Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.

SECTION 1 - HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life

((Jim Steinman wrote it, I think, even though the site where I found the lyrics says it's Bonnie Tyler) - Bonnie Tyler




Chapter 1.05
Friday, May 24th, 2002


By the time that their food arrived, Rosa was content that the two grown ups were going to behave and not get any more silly ideas. They had moved back into the house once they were ready to place their order and Wes had opened a bottle of wine. Any earlier awkwardness was gone and Wes had propped up a large cushion, half resting against the arm of the settee, half on his thigh so that Marie could lie back against him. His left forearm was draped across her midriff, his fingers twined with those of her left hand and, though he occasionally used his right arm to reach over the chair arm and lift his glass to his lips, his hand more often stroked Marie's long dark hair in an unconscious but tender gesture while they talked. 'And about time,' the little girl thought to herself as she watched discreetly, pretending to be too interested in her new toy to pay the pair much attention. Once she was sure they weren't going to do everything wrong again, it wasn't even an act.

Rosa supervised the pair for another two hours, in any case, which was more or less the time required to share a large amount of Chinese food and watch a Disney movie. Then, she let them pay court around her bed for the night, taking turns to read pages from 'The Wind in the Willows' until her eyes drifted closed, her arms wrapped firmly around the bright orange plush tiger.

Marie lifted the book from Wes's hands, shifting the bookmark before she closed it, and set it on the bedside table next to the monitor she normally employed. She took him by the hand as they crept from the room. Once the door was firmly, if very quietly closed behind them, Wes used their joined hands to draw the latina back toward him. His other hand reached to cup her cheek as he paused, his lips only half an inch from Marie's. "I've been wanting to do this for hours," he whispered, still conscious of small, flapping ears just the other side of a thin door.

It was Marie who closed that last half inch. Their first brief touch was like the opening spatters of rain after a drought, wondrous but a long way from being enough.

---

"Come on, love." Spike tried to lead Buffy toward the edge of the roof. "You said we weren't stoppin' here all night an', if you want to have a hope of convincin' her that we actually did the rounds, then we probably want to clear out."

"Heyyy, we've got a witness to prove we at least went looking for vamps."

"An' the fact that this witness can put us right here at the school, talking to the kid's old man?"

"Is totally irrelevant?" Buffy's shoulders dropped and she started to follow the vamp as if there were lead weights in her shoes. "Okay, you're right. If we don't go somewhere that is else we're going to be totally busted."

When they reached the back edge of the building, Spike swept Buffy into his arms. "Hold on tight. The first step's a doozy." He stepped over the edge and plummeted twenty feet to the ground, letting his legs absorb the impact before he placed Buffy back on her own feet again. "Now, if you didn't look hot as hell in that get up of yours, I might be tempted to point out its impracticality... again, but-"

"Okay, so the skirt-motorcycle combination was not of the best, and I can't compete with your Spiderman impersonation in these boots, but at least I didn't look out of place when we had to talk to Mr Michaels-."

"As I was saying, but I will point out that there's but one decent drinkin' establishment in this sinkhole an' seein' as you're all dressed up pretty like, we might as well try our luck there, as trail 'round the graveyards an' get you dirty."

"You want us to patrol in a club?"

"Well, to coin that phrase of which you California folk are so fond... Duh? It's Friday night an' I'm a big bad vamp out lookin' for fresh meat. What'm I gonna do? Head for the hottest spot in town and find myself a tasty little mini-skirted morsel or skulk in a graveyard in the hope that someone who isn't armed with a crossbow will decide to just wander through in the middle of the night?"

"So, we'll pretend that the fact that cemeteries don't serve alcohol has no bearing on your opinion and move onto the other problem with that bit of logic. You want to tell me why when I patrol the graveyards I keep findin' vamps?"

"That's the newbies. Sometimes takes them a while to find a place to hang their hat. I mean, who's goin' to live in a cemetery?"

Buffy cleared her throat loudly and stared at the leather-clad blond as if he'd lost his mind.

"Let me rephrase that, who would live in a cemetery if they were worried about runnin' into a slayer... as opposed to placin' themselves right in her flight path."

"Are you saying that you lived in a crypt so that you would see me?"

"Wh-what? No . God, no." Spike stuttered, not wanting to even examine the subject of exactly how long he had been in love with Buffy too closely in his own mind, let alone set Buffy's imagination to work. "Just... central location, handy for the sewers, four walls an' a roof ready made. All points in its favour which, for your average vamp, would be negated by the fact that you go marchin' 'round the neighbourhood on a regular basis, as opposed to some cave with a stream runnin' down the wall or some pretentious mansion that still only has runnin' water in the garden, is too big to keep clean an' is about as far from what passes for civilisation in Sunnyhell as it can be whilst still fallin' within city limits, an', of course, since the obvious plan of action for 'what to do if the rightful owner turned up an' didn't like his new tenant' was no longer an option, I'd have been kinda... charcoal."

"Methinks the vamp doth protest too much," Buffy sing-songed, as she skipped backwards away from him.

"An' methinks, if you think, then we better declare a public holiday... An' the club is over that way."

---

Marie held Wes at arms length as they both struggled for air. "I'm sorry," she gasped between breaths that made her breasts heave. "We should-."

"Sorry for what?" he asked, drawing her away from her daughter's bedroom door.

"I shouldn't let things get so-. It's too much, when I'm not ready to... I'm not like this. I'm not a tease."

Though his bedroom was closer, the watcher led the woman downstairs and seated her on one of the sofas before pulling over a footstool so that he could sit opposite her. "You're not a tease... but you are like this. You are a wonderful contradiction, and whatever you may have been brought up to believe, there is nothing wrong in being that way."

"But-."

"Marie, you're a beautiful, passionate woman. It shows in everything that you do. Your feelings for Rosa, your friendships, your enthusiasm for your work, and in our relationship. However, I'm aware that you are about as far from promiscuous as it is possible to be. Believe me when I say that I love both those things about you. When we do make love..." The watcher's eyelids closed, as if for a second he was anticipating that future time. "It will be special for both of us.

In the meantime, let me worry about my self-control. I would rather cope with a little minor frustration than feel that you're having to hold back on my account, like you feel you have to be on your guard around me. I'm not some youth who is unable to control himself.

If we spend all our time trying to avoid any sort of intimacy, then it will only serve to make you more self-conscious about it, and build a barrier between us. Trust me, I would rather have a thousand moments like our kiss upstairs where we step back afterwards, take a few deep breaths and regroup, than have you ever feel uncomfortable."

"Wes," Marie took his hands in hers. "I can't make any guarantees. I'm hoping things are going to work out between us. I already have feelings for you and so does Rosa, but this is all early days and I don't know when I'm going to feel able to give you what you want."

"What I want is a woman at my side who wants to be there. I want someone who has the same sort of intense long-lived feelings for me that I have for her. I even want a woman who hopes that, when we get around to it, that our kids look like me, as much as I want them to look like her. Contrary to popular belief, that doesn't often happen overnight and it's not something that can be rushed, but it is something that I believe is worth waiting for."

"Me too, but it's hard. Thomas was my best friend before that friendship turned to love, and I came to want him because I loved him. It was so much easier than this. I know you can make me weak at the knees with just one kiss. I don't know how much of that is hormones and how much is because of the feelings I have for you. It's not your self-control that worries me. It's mine."

"Then, I shall just have to ensure that you incontrovertibly fall head over heels at the earliest opportunity. How am I doing with that?"

Marie gave a shy smile. "Scoring high in all categories."

"Glad to hear it. Maybe christening the jacuzzi is taking things too fast for now, though?" Wes offered Marie a chance to back out of their earlier plans.

"Perhaps, but we've got at least one film to watch before we have to decide."

"I'll leave the water heater on, then, shall I?"

"Why not?"

---

"This place is kinda like The Bronze, except it's darker and my feet are sticking to the floor. Shouldn't that contravene some health code or other?" Buffy asked.

Spike shrugged. "Looks like the place has gone downhill. Used to be a bit more upmarket."

"Which decade would that be?"

"'Bout four year back. C'mon." Spike drew Buffy toward a set of narrow stairs she hadn't even noticed before, pulling aside the chain that stretched across them with its 'No Admittance' sign."

"Spike?"

"Get over yourself. There're some gantries for the lighting crew, let us get the lie of the land, once we check that no one else is usin' them."

The body slammed into Spike fast enough that he had to take a couple of steps back as he caught it. She was limp in his arms, fresh blood dripping from her neck, but her heart still pumped, even if it was weakly. Spike thrust the girl into Buffy's arms and took off in pusuit of the vampire, who, alerted by his and Buffy's conversation had thrown her at him. He trailed his prey more by scent than sight, springing from platform to platform until he reached an open skylight. Buffy was left to look after the girl, keeping pressure on the wound and calling for an ambulance. Apprehending the culprit was his job. Spike took to the rooftops with glee, thrilled that he might perhaps have found a worthy opponent.

---

Saturday, May 25th, 2002



"We're back. Hello?" Dawn called out.

"Hi, sweetie!" Tara's voice echoed downstairs closely followed by the girl herself. "How did it go?"

"Someone managed to get thirty votes for May Queen, even though she wasn't on the ballot slip," Brandon told the witch proudly.

"How did you manage that, honey?"

Brandon grinned and answered for her. "I think it might have had something to do with telling the only freshman on the cheerleading squad that she looked like a hooker in front of about a quarter of the school."

"I didn't say she looked like a hooker. I said she was whorish and it was only about a quarter of the freshmen, not a quarter of the school."

"Doesn't matter. Everyone in our year knows already. If it wasn't last week of term, for everybody other than Kirsty, the whole school would know by Monday."

"Where are Spike and Buffy?" Dawn questioned Tara again.

"Buffy called from the hospital before. Sounded like they ran into some trouble. Buffy got left with the patch up and Spike was in hot pursuit."

"Did she say when they'd be back?"

Tara shrugged. "She spoke to Faith. I don't know."

"Is it okay if Brand stays for a while?"

"It's fine by me."

"Guess since we have an actual sofa that Faith's out?"

Before Tara could answer the sound of a large motorcycle pulling up at the side of the house alerted them to Spike's return. The three moved through the kitchen to the back porch to check whether the vampire had brought Buffy home with him.

By the time Dawn and Buffy had exchanged reports on the night's happenings, everyone had forgotten about Faith again. It was only when Buffy went to get the milk from the fridge that they found the note.

"Faith? Is this your handwriting?" Buffy called through to the living room.

"She's not here. She said she was going out on patrol and then she was meeting Travers, but she made it back again. Then, sometime after you called, she must have gone back out. She's probably at The Bronze or something."

Spike pulled the note from Buffy's fingers.

"What does that even mean?" the slayer asked. "'So long and thanks for all the fish'? We never even had fish. Pizza, burgers, Mexican, no fish."

Spike put the note down on the counter, slipping his arms around Buffy's waist and resting his cheek against hers. "It means that someone developed a taste for classic literature while she was banged up. It also means she's gone."

"Let's hope it doesn't mean that she knows the world's about to explode," Brandon added.