******

Buffy was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. Her face, which had gone without sunlight for over a hundred days, was still pale and drawn. The circles under her eyes were hard to hide, even under the heavy concealer, but she gave it a valiant attempt. Satisfied that she passed for someone at least halfway alive, she took a deep breath and turned, digging through her trunk to find a few stakes.

Dawn watched from the doorway as Buffy went through the motions. As far as she was concerned, her sister could paint her cheeks, slash her mouth with red, and dab pressed powder on her nose, but her eyes could never be made up to look anything other than destroyed. That’s how the Slayer looked. Destroyed. And it was a bitter pill for Dawn to swallow. She had spent weeks looking for spells on her own to bring Buffy back, but in the end, she wondered if they should have.

"Buffy?" Pushing away from the wall, Dawn walked into the room and sat down on the bed. "Can we talk for a second?"

Buffy, her back to Dawn, sighed a little and continued to paw through the contents of her trunk. "Yeah, whatever."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you never talk to me anymore. You don’t-"

"Dawn, I’m just a little busy lately."

"Getting drunk isn’t really a good excuse."

Buffy glanced over her shoulder. "I mean busy with killing evil forces."

"Like you do so much of that lately, too."

"Okay, now I’m getting mad at you." Buffy turned back to her trunk, swearing. "Where the fuck is that Holy Water?"

"Are you actually going patrolling?"

"There are some vampires who need to be taken out and I want to do it tonight."

"Can I come?"

"Never gonna happen."

"I got to patrol with the Buffybot sometimes!"

"Well, put her back together then. You’re not slowing me down."

Dawn opened her mouth to tell her that she’d rather have the Buffybot, but bit her tongue instead. She couldn’t blame Buffy for being upset or for having trouble with being brought back. With perfect clarity, Dawn remembered what it was like to find out that she was the Key. That couldn’t even be half as traumatizing as being brought back from Hell. She chewed her thumbnail and decided to take the conversation in a different direction. "Giles made Spike your watcher."

"What!?" Buffy cried, jumping to her feet. The knife that she held in her hand slipped and cut across all four fingers, literally flaying them open. "Owww!" she cried in shock.

"Oh my god!" Dawn jumped to her feet, grabbing up a spaghetti strapped pajama shirt on the floor. She wrapped it around Buffy’s hand and screeched, "Giles!"

"It’s okay," Buffy told her, stunned that she had dealt herself such a painful injury. She swore under her breath when she heard the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairwell.

Giles was the first through the door. He surveyed the blood droplets on the floor and the blood soaked shirt wrapped around Buffy’s hand and grabbed her arm, fearing that she had cut her wrist in desperation. He gently began unwrapping the soiled material, but she pulled away. "Buffy-"

"I’m fine." She held her hand against her chest. The throbbing in her fingers felt ... good. It made her feel alive. "It’s just a little cut."

Spike raced through the door in full vampire face. "You’re bleeding. I could smell it halfway down the block."

"Ew." Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "You may as well put your fangs away. You’re not eating here!"

He felt the ridges on his forehead and cursed, then closed his eyes and forced the demon away. He had been heading back toward town when the scent of her, strong and sweet, wafted through the air. "What happened, love?"

"I’m not your love." Buffy groaned when Willow slipped in behind Spike. "There’s nothing to see, people! I’m just fucking fine!"

Willow ignored her. "I’ll get the first aid kit."

"I don’t need it!"

"I’ll get it anyway!" Willow snapped back at her.

"Let me see it." Spike reached for her, grabbing her arm and yanking her toward him when she tried to pull away from him. "I’m not going to play games with you! Either you do this the easy way or Red puts a spell on you to keep you still. Which is it?"

Buffy didn’t doubt that he would be able to make good on his threat. She rolled her eyes and held her hand out, aware that Giles was watching the exchange carefully. Spike was her new watcher? Surely she had not heard Dawn correctly. She hissed a little and shied away as the vampire peeled the shirt away, pulling at her torn flesh. "Oww!"

"What did you do?" Spike wiped at the fresh blood and surveyed the damage. "You need stitches."

Giles leaned forward, his glasses on the edge of his nose as he, too, studied the wound. "Yes, I daresay you’re right."

Buffy glared at him. "You asked him to be my new watcher?"

Glancing at Dawn, who looked away quickly, Giles shook his head. "I asked him to help you out from time to time. I did not tell him that he is your watcher."

"I’m not doing what he says," she told him.

"Well, you’ve hardly ever done anything I’ve said so that shouldn’t be too hard for you to acclimate yourself to."

"I can’t believe you’re pawning me off on Spike!"

"I believe I just told you that he is not-"

"Whatever!" Buffy pulled her hand away from Spike, who had wisely chosen to remain silent during the exchange. "I have to go."

"To the hospital," Dawn told her, gently touching her arm. "You have to get it fixed."

"I’m the Slayer. I don’t need hospitals."

"Well, you’re going." Holding the bloody shirt back out to her, Spike nodded at the door. "Let’s go."

Willow came back into the room carrying the larger than life first aid kit that Joyce had invested in years earlier. "Where are we going?" she asked, setting it on the bed. She held up a scroll in one hand. A scroll wrapped with a yellow ribbon. "Buffy, this was on the floor by your pants. Do you need it or do you want me to toss it?"

Buffy’s eyes widened and her hand shot out on its own. She wrapped her fingers around it, not even noticing the blood that smeared all over the parchment. She felt it grow hot against her flesh and gasped, unable to believe her eyes as the parchment disappeared only to be replaced by a metal cylinder and lock set.

Bob had said that one bloody fingerprint would make the contract binding.

Buffy had just put five prints on the parchment.

The deal was sealed.





*~*~*~*~

"What is that thing?" Dawn asked, staring down at the locked tube that used to be a roll of parchment.

"It’s a joke." Buffy tossed it into her trunk and slammed the lid, shaken to her core. She hadn’t even read the scroll so surely that would void any deal that may have inadvertently been struck. She put her hands behind her back, willing them to stop shaking. "I should patrol."

"I thought we established that you were going to the hospital." Giles motioned for her to come with him, then frowned when she stood her ground. "Buffy-"

"Let me see," Willow gently reached for her, turning her friend’s palm upward to survey the damage. "Ouch. I can fix it."

"With more magic?" Giles snapped.

Willow shook her head, scowling at him. "No. With conventional medicine."

"She should see the doc," Spike told the girl.

"She doesn’t want to go." Willow turned back to Buffy and said, "Do you want me to see what I can do?"

"Sure." Buffy shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. The uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with her hospital phobia and everything to do with the unholy alliance she had just formed. She glanced up at Dawn, who was close to tears. "It’s okay. I’m fine."

Willow kneeled down in front of Buffy and opened the kit. "Dawn, can you get me a big basin full of water and some clean towels?" To Spike, she added, "Can you get the alcohol out of the bathroom?"

With only Giles and Willow left in the room, Buffy felt a little more comfortable. She stared at her watcher ... her ex-watcher ... and said, "What do you know about Belzor?"

"Spike’s the authority on Belzor," Willow replied before Giles could. "He knows everything about him."

"They were probably best friends while they killed millions of people," Buffy said, pointedly looking at Giles. "I feel so safe in his torture capable hands."

"I did not appoint him your watcher!" Giles sat down at Buffy’s vanity, moving a hot pink feather boa that tickled his nose. "I asked him to help you occasionally and you are the one who has been spending all your time in his company. So don’t -"

Willow had unwrapped Buffy’s hand and gasped. "It’s healed."

"What?" Giles leaned forward, staring down at what had been bone baring cuts. There wasn’t even a scratch anymore. "Good lord."

Buffy tentatively flexed her fingers, shocked to see that they were indeed completely healed. "Well, that’s better."

"That’s quick healing, Buffy, even for you." Willow pulled the Slayer’s hand back into hers and studied her flesh again. "Not so much as a scar. Have you been hurt at all since you’ve been back?"

"What do you mean?" She wondered how they would take her telling them that her heart had hurt nonstop since her return.

"I mean, have you had any other injuries that you healed this fast from?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don’t know."

"It’s uncanny." Giles shook his head, studying Buffy. "Do you feel different? Stronger perhaps? You told me after you died at the Master’s hand that you awoke feeling different, more in tune with the Slayer inside you."

"I feel-" Buffy mulled her words carefully. How could she say that she felt devastated, scared, scarred, angry, miserable, and so many other things? "-okay," she lied because okay was not in remotely in the same ballpark as her emotions and the truth was not something she could speak.

Spike returned with the alcohol, followed by Dawn. Willow quickly explained that Buffy was fine and left the room, carrying the first aid kit. Dawn followed her, looking bewildered and Spike sat down next to Buffy, peering at her hand for himself.

"Do you always heal like this?" he asked.

"Apparently I came back stronger."

Spike lifted her hand, pressing against her flesh despite the dried blood there. "It doesn't hurt at all?"


Buffy rolled her eyes as he massaged her fingers. "You know," she sighed. "I am so fucking tired of living under a microscope. You people bring me back and then question my every move, examine me and then cross examine me, and then you act shocked when I get pissed. Just get out of my room!"

Giles glared at her. "You’re behaving like a spoiled child."

"Well being spoiled was never a luxury that I had." She snatched her hand away from Spike and stood, shoving a few more items into her bag. "Saving the world a million times doesn’t exactly leave a lot of time for simple things like having a life or a death for that matter. Not even death can buy me a get out of SunnyHELL free card. But you go ahead and run, Giles. Have a nice life. One that I'll never have. Send me a postcard about it."

"Slayer-"

"Shut up!" Buffy shouted, shoving her bag onto her shoulder. "Don’t wait up for me."

"Where are you going?" Dawn came back into the room carrying a tub of ice cream and moved aside quickly when Buffy brushed past her. "I thought we could stuff ourselves and watch Lifetime television since-"

"For the last time," Buffy shouted. "I’m going out to patrol. Xander was attacked and it’s my job to find what did it. I don’t get to leave! This is my life. So don’t act shocked when I go out and do my job! You brought me back for this!" To Spike, she added, "So help me god, if you follow me I’m staking you. Just leave me alone. For one fucking night ... leave me the hell alone. All of you!"

They watched her slam out of the room with their mouths agape. Spike paced back and forth for a few seconds, then followed her.

"Spike, I think she was serious." Dawn chased after him. "Just let her go."

He winked at her, tapping the end of her nose. "Now when have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?"