Author’s Note: Thanks to Kar again for being a generally awesome beta. Thanks to all my wonderful readers for the feedback. In addition to making the whole writing experience worthwhile, it gives me inspiration for future chapters and lets me know what's working and what's not. Eleven is coming along and hopefully I’ll have draft to Kar by the end of the week.

Characters not my own. No infringement intended. Some dialog borrowed.

In our tenth installment Spike learns what Buffy has decided, our heroine gets zapped, Willow is on the case, Buffy asks Joyce for a favor, and that's not all. It's a big chapter.


Chapter Ten: Gone

She was standing at the sink scrubbing away when he barreled in, blanket smoking. Didn’t even look at him, just stuck a pan in the drying rack and asked, “You couldn’t find a less flammable time of day to take a stroll?”

It had been about 36 hours since he’d seen them home from the hospital. After Dawn’s arm was set and she was declared fit to go home, he’d sat with the Little Bit. They’d pretended to watch the evening news while Willow and Buffy had their row in the hallway. Watcher’s old car was either getting the dents smoothed out, or Red was parking it somewhere other than Chez Summers.

Driving with her bloody thoughts when she had two perfectly good hands had cost Dawn the use of one of hers. Wanted to throttle the batty bitch but Buffy had done a pretty thorough job of browbeating Willow herself. Didn’t need him for back-up. He’d offered to patrol so she could explain things to her mum and had taken his anger out on a few unfortunate fledges.

Then he’d gone home to his Buffy-scented bed and two sleepless days were enough. Had to see her. “Your concern for my well-being is touching, Slayer,” he replied, coming up behind her and running one hand up her spine to the nape of her neck. “How’s the Niblet?”

Her heart rate was beginning to ratchet up and he could feel her leaning into his hand ever so slightly. He kneaded his thumb into the muscle there. “Good,” she groaned, and he applied more pressure. “Dawn’s – oh – good.”

Encouraged, he ran his other hand through her mane of loose hair. Silky and still a bit damp from the shower, held it up to the bits of dangerous sunlight filtering through the closed blinds. “This hair,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” she demanded. She whirled around, reeling him in close as he failed to let go.

“Nothing wrong with it,” he clarified, running one hand through it. “Love this hair. Love the way it—” He just managed to register the door opening and took a step back, dropping his arms.

“Harris Taxi Service!” Xander announced.

“Nothing!” Buffy blurted, jumping away like he was electrified.

Spike leaned against the fridge and lit a cigarette. It served to stifle the grin threatening to break across his face. Buffy thrust her hands back in the dishwater and began abusing a fork with the sponge.

“Uh huh.” Xander was studying the Slayer’s back intently. When Xander turned his suspicious gave to him, Spike leered at him. Xander formed an exaggerated moue of disgust. “Is Dawnie ready to roll?”

Dawn popped in to the room so suddenly he knew she’d been hovering about the whole time. Backpack slung over one arm, she winked at him. “Hi, Spike. Bye, Spike. Come on, Xander, we’ll be late.”

“Thanks, Xand.” Buffy had managed to stop blushing, but he could still hear her heart thudding along.

“No problem, Buff.” The boy gave the two of them one last glance before herding Dawn out. “Come on, gimpy girl. Got a Sharpie in the car. Let’s fancy up your cast.”

“Well, that was smooth, Slayer,” he drawled.

“Shut up,” she snapped back at him. She continued to mess about the sink for a few minutes, finally letting the water out and patting her hands dry on a rag. When she finally turned to him again, she seemed more composed, leaning against the rim of the sink, thoughtful look on. “Put that thing out,” she ordered.

He sauntered over and tossed the end of the cigarette over her shoulder and into the sink. Spike had planned to say something witty as well, but the Slayer grabbed his jacket with both hands and his mouth was rather blocked by hers. "Mom's already gone," she gasped into his ear before biting down hard on the lobe. Tangled together and blind, they bounced off the counters like a bulky pinball. He grasped her hips and lifted her to sit on the edge of the counter.

Little hands on his waist and wasn't much of one for preliminaries, was she? "Slow down, Slayer. Have the place all to ourselves and the whole day before us." The thought of it, of a long luxurious day of fucking in Buffy's own bed was a bit overwhelming. He rested his head against her shoulder for a moment until the vertigo passed.

"No, we don't," she protested. She lifted her hips and shimmied her jeans off. "I have an appointment." Her underwear quickly followed.

"So we're doing this then?" he said after a moment.

With his cock in her hand, she gave him an incredulous look and squeezed him gently. "What about this is confusing to you?"

Girl had a point. He let her pull him in for another long kiss and then slowly, so he could memorize every second of it, sank into her. "Didn't really answer my question, love," he managed after a moment.

Her eyes were closed. "Move please," she replied flatly. He obeyed with some vigor. "Yes! I mean, yes, we're -- ah -- doing this, Spike." She wrapped her legs tight around him and grasped at his jacket for traction.

"Did your thinking, then?"

"Yes."

"Not telling the Scoobs though?"

"No."

"Want me for your dirty little secret, Buffy?" he purred in her ear. By way of reply, she moaned helplessly and wound one arm around his neck.

"Please," she breathed, her voice dropping an octave. And yes, he thought as he sped up, he would give her what she wanted. Wouldn't do to get his hopes up too high about what he was going to get from this, from her. Was enough to have her wrapped around him, warm and tight and wanting and panting his name deliriously. Bucking and shouting and taking him with her. Unlife could be a lot worse.

He rested his forehead against hers as she shivered and struggled to catch her breath. "Love you," he gasped.

"I know," she answered, gently tucking him back into his jeans. "I know." Her face was too confused for him to read, but she kissed him softly once more. He wished he knew what she was thinking. What she was feeling. "I have to go. Be careful out there."

"Right." He hefted the blanket as he watched her slip back into her clothes. "Wouldn't want me going up in flames."

"No, I really wouldn't," she said quietly, her back to him.

Well, there, that was something. Practically a love poem.

---------

The interview had gone well, she thought. She was pretty sure she’d be all College Girl again in the fall. It was a little scary, seeing as how she was a whole three semesters behind. And it all felt so normal, which was pretty extraordinary for her. Normal was nice. Normal was good.

Morning vampire quickies weren’t bad either.

The memory made her feel hot all over. It also made her wonder whether Spike was sleeping the day away, and if so, about the many ways she could wake him up. There was something hugely wrong with her, and she didn’t care.

She walked past the salon and studied her reflection in the window. Maybe she did need a change. She hadn’t really done anything since her funeral other than get it trimmed when she and Mom had hit the spa. But Spike liked it, apparently. It gave her a slightly surreal feeling to be considering his opinion, like she’d woken up in the world without shrimp or something. As she contemplated a split-end, a trio of murky forms appeared behind her. There was a weird buzzing feeling in her gut, and suddenly her reflection was gone.

Huh.

“What happened to Buffy? She's gone,” she overheard Xander saying as she pushed open the shop door.

”She's right here. Table four. I put her with your family.”

”Great. Except, we don't hate Buffy. Let's put her back at table one.”

”Well, where do I put D'Hoffryn?”

”We're not inviting D'Hoffryn.”

”We have to, Xander. He's my ex-boss! You're inviting your work buddies.”

Buffy decided to weigh in. “She’s got a point.”

”Hey, Buffy... Where ... where are you?”

”At table four, apparently.”

”Well, that remains to be seen,” Anya said, looking around nervously. “Much like you.”

”Don't strain yourself looking, Xander. I'm invisible girl.” Xander’s hand flailed around and crashed into an area that hadn’t been touched by human boys in a while. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Her clothes are ... invisible ... too. Buffy, how did this... wait a sec, have you been feeling ignored lately?”

Buffy sighed. “Ignored? Not really. No, this isn't a Marcie deal. I don't know what happened. I was cruising Main Street after my interview—“

“How did that go?” Anya asked brightly.

“Oh, I think I’m in.”

Xander gave his fiancé a look and she protested, “You’re always saying I should at least pretend to be concerned with the events in your friends’ lives.”

Buffy smothered a laugh. “I thought you were very convincing, Anya.”

“Thank you.” Anya pointedly moved the ‘Buffy’ tag back to Table One. “Why would anyone make you invisible anyway? I mean, invisible Slayer's gotta be way more effective than the standard variety.”

”Yeah, I'm less with the why and more with the how. We get the how then we got how to make her unseen sight seen again, right?”

"So we do that how?" Buffy asked.

”Well, I could go check the spot where Buffy disappeared. Snoop for clues,” Xander suggested.

“Good plan, Xand.”

“You’re not freaking?” Xander asked. “Because this seems to be in the realm of the bad.”

“Kinda fun though,” Buffy replied from right behind him. She giggled when he jumped and twirled around to glare at a spot over her shoulder.

“Well, seems pretty obvious it's some kind of spell that's done this to her.”

”Spell from who? You said it yourself; it makes no sense for one of her enemies to make her invisible.”

”Maybe it's a mistake,” Anya suggested knowingly. Buffy counted the beats until Xander got it.

”A magical mistake. Who'd be messing with that kind of pow-,“ Xander shook his head. “Okay, I’m on it. Buffy—“

“Oh, I’m good,” she insisted. “I’ll just find somewhere to lie low for awhile and you guys can buzz me when you have something. Although I’m sorta hoping it doesn’t wear off before patrol time. Looking forward to sneaking up on something scary while its defenses are down, and … I gotta go be somewhere!” she realized aloud. “Thanks guys!”

--------

She could do this. Really. They found paint scrapings and a pylon and there was some van chasing Buffy and she could do it. She could find out who was harassing Buffy without using magic. After all, there was Xander, her one-man cheering section, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

Good ol’ Xander. She had forgotten, somewhere along the way, what a good friend he was.

She thrust the traffic cone at him. “You should take it to the Magic Box. It might help you and Anya figure out what kind of spell was used.”

”What about you, Wills?”

“Well, I got paint scrapings... and a tire mark. I'm gonna find this van that's been stalking Buffy. By the way, where is Buffy?”

Xander made a face. “She mentioned sneaking up on someone scary.” He tilted his head to the side and squinted at her. “I think she might be at Spike’s.”

Willow laughed. “No really, Xander.” Off his look she rephrased, “Oh really? I guess they have kinda been hanging out lately.”

Xander shook his head. “She’s not answering her phone.”

“Maybe she can’t find it? It’s probably invisible too.”

“I’ll try tracking her down,” he volunteered.

“Right,” Willow breathed. “Okay. Work to do, the hard way. No magic short-cuts. Promise.”

Xander squeezed her shoulder. “I know you can do it, Will.”

Willow straightened her back. This was it, her chance to show them what she could do. And maybe word would get back to Tara, who might even eventually forgive her. Now if only she could manage not to blow it…

--------

“God, that’s weird.”

Buffy gently pushed at his penis again, watching as it seemed to move by itself. When she turned her head she could also see the goofy sated look on his face. Post-coital was a good look on Spike. Rumpled hair and the sneer smoothed out, lanky body heaped on the pillows.

She could get used to that. Which was a thought that probably ought to scare her, but instead made her wonder how her mother would feel about Spike staying over when she was out on buying trips. She could send Dawn to Janice’s for the night. Not that the crypt wasn't comfy, but it would be nice to be able to sneak downstairs for a carton of ice cream afterward. Or, you know, during, because you could probably fit a spoonful of triple fudge ripple right where his stomach dipped--

"Still there, love?"

She confirmed it by stroking her hands down his legs. Being invisible was making her brazen.

"Do you ever get used to not showing up in the mirror?" she asked. She hadn't really thought about it before, but he'd occasionally worn eyeliner in his evil days, which she could barely get right with a reflection. "How do you know if your roots are showing?"

Instead of answering he grabbed her arms and dragged her up to lay alongside him. Pre-coital Spike wasn’t a bad look either. But for some reason he was avoiding her question. “Hardly seems fair,” he muttered into the valley between her breasts, “should have a blindfold around here somewhere.”

“Maybe next time?” she offered weakly. The idea was appealing in a way that was probably deeply bad. Maybe they could even find some rope or… wait, he was trying to distract her. “Spike, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oft times Clem let’s me know.”

“Oh.” She stroked her thumb across his cheek. “Vampires aren’t usually solitary like you,” she mused. Giles might not believe it, but she had listened to his Vamp 101 lectures. "Do you just love me because you’re lonely?”

He made a noise and pressed his face closer against her invisible belly. “Lonely ‘cause I love you, Slayer,” he whispered to her navel.

She ran her nails over his scalp and considered that. She knew, of course, that even chipped and despised for being a pseudo white hat, Spike was a fearful presence in the demon community. Knowing that he could, but chose not to, terrify other demons into bringing him dinner was a big part of her ‘why this is okay’ list. But she’d never really thought about what the meant for him beyond missing out on nummy hot plasma.

Somehow she would talk Mom into having him over on Christmas Eve or something. Okay, so it would be weird and really awkward because her mom was so not thrilled about the whole thing. But Dawn would like it and Spike would love it, even if he acted like he was doing it just to please her. And it would be nice, really, to do something for him.

“Quiet, Buffy. You sure you’re alright?”

“The gang’s on it. I’m not much help with the research part.” She tugged at his hair. “Get back up her,” she ordered gently. “I’m starting to feel lonely.”

“Whatever you say, pet,” he groused with exaggerated reluctance.

She smiled at him, realized he couldn’t see it, and decided to say something she probably wouldn’t have if he could see the blush spreading across her entire body just thinking it. “Well, I was going to ask you to put that hard thick cock of yours inside me and fuck me, Spike, but if that’s too much trouble—“

She swallowed the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbled up when he abruptly pushed inside. He growled at her as he pumped his hips and she relaxed into the mattress. It was amazing to watch him without having to worry about what her own face gave away. But then she saw something over his shoulder and froze.

“Spike? Spike?” Xander was standing by the foot of the ladder with a hand slapped over his eyes. “Um, what are you doing?”

”What am I ... What does it look like I'm doing, you nit?” Spike tried desperately to cover. “I'm exercising, aren't I?” When he did a ‘push-up’ to demonstrate, she had to bite down on her arm to keep from making a noise. She felt stupidly disappointed when he sat back and wrapped a sheet around his hips. It was also way weird to be naked with Xander right there. Not that he could see her invisible boobs, but still. Half-hidden by Spike, she nudged a pillow over her lap.

“Exercising. Naked. In bed.” Xander looked dubious. “Right. I’m looking for Buffy.”

“Haven't seen her.” Spike protested, way too quickly. She rolled her eyes

”Well, uh, you wouldn't. The fact is she's come down with a slight case of invisibility.”

“Yeah? How did—“

“Look, if you hear from her, tell her we’ve got some kinda urgent info for her and she should call Willow right away.” He reached for a rung.

“Sure, no problem,” he replied to Xander’s vanishing feet. When the crypt door slammed he laid back on the mattress. “Better find your kit and call the witch. Could be important.”

She bit her lip and tried to figure out how she was going to locate her clothes. “We weren’t really finished here,” she grumped.

He laughed a little and fumbled around in the sheets, came up with a handful of air that turned out to be her shirt. “Think of a way you can make it up to me.”

In fact, by the time she had managed to find her clothes and left him tenting the sheets and smoking a cigarette all contemplatively, she had thought of several ways. Assuming she could get her Halloween costume out of the house without Dawn noticing.


-----

Getting taken hostage: minus. Getting whomped on the head by Mr. Misogyny: minus. But hey, solving the mystery magic-free: big plus.

Buffy seemed to agree. "Pretty neat, you finding the van. So ... how did you manage to do it exactly? I mean, to locate it?"

Willow looked her friend over. Something about her seemed different, but maybe it was just the invisibility day. "The hard way. The spell-free way. The oh-my-god-my-head's-gonna-fall-off, my-feet-are-killing-me way. The Velma way, like a good little Scooby."

"We should get a snack," Buffy suggested, gesturing to the Espresso Pump. "You know I'm here so much now, maybe I should ask for an application."

Willow quietly admitted, "I don't know how I got through this day."

"Well, the important thing is that you did. It's a... good first step."

"How are you doing, post-invisibleness?"

"Not too bad." They ordered their drinks and found a comfy couch to crash on. "I wish Dawn hadn't seen me -- or, you know, not seen me, at the Magic Box when my arch nemi-sissies called with their ransom demand."

"She freaked?"

"Big time. She said something about a prophecy and then it all got too high-pitched for human ears." Buffy shrugged. "We need to keep her out of Giles' old books."

Willow watched Buffy stir her chocolate and lick her spoon. She wanted to ask more about Dawn, about how she was doing and if the younger Summers would ever forgive her, but she had a feeling she knew what Buffy would say. It would be nice to know where she stood with her best friend though. "You know, this is nice. You and me and the talking. I kinda miss you."

Buffy blinked back at her. "Will, you know I love you…”

But

“…and you did save me from becoming pudding…”

And go me! But

“…but you did break my sister’s arm.”

There it was. Willow nodded. “I get that. I know you need to be mad at me for awhile and I deserve it, really deserve it. I just want us to be okay.”

Her friend gave her a wan smile. “So do I.”

"You know, Buffy, I'm never going to give it up completely."

"I know. No one expects that. It's just... sometimes a stake is the right thing. And other times I need a bazooka. But not very often."

Willow grinned and relaxed into the cushions. "That might be your worst metaphor ever." She felt her face crumple. “I feel so stupid… I just did what I was supposed to do, but I…”

“And, yet you want a cookie?” Buffy finished for her. Willow nodded. “Believe me, I get that.” Buffy squeezed her hand gently and Willow could feel it there, the power that coursed through Buffy. She watched as Buffy made a ‘one minute’ gesture and wandered up to the counter.

She’d never really thought about it until after Riley bolted; how it must be a constant struggle for Buffy, reining in her power, always having to think about what would happen lest she forget herself and crack someone’s spine with a friendly hug. Did it just become natural after a while, holding yourself back? If Buffy could do it, so could she.

Her friend returned with a smile, what looked like a job application form, and a plate full of sweets. She held out a lemon bar. “Come on,” she tempted the witch. “We’ll work off the calories on patrol.”

------

Joyce stared at her daughters and tried to think of a better response than "You want me to do what?" Buffy had her hands stuffed in her back pockets, her jaw set. Dawn had the sort of wheedling face on that was normally reserved for requests along the lines of Can't we get a puppy? I promise I'll take care of it.

"God, if it's going to be such a big deal, then forget it," Buffy huffed back at her. But Joyce knew her daughter and knew that this was, indeed, a very big deal.

"No!" Dawn moaned. "It'll be cool! He hasn't been over in forever."

Joyce sighed and took a seat on the couch. Her head was generally feeling better these days, but she could feel a serious headache coming on. "Dawn, I need to talk to your sister."

“He was really good at Thanksgiving that one year. Could he come over for that, too?”

“Dawn, go to your room!”

"FINE!" Dawn made one of those noises that became impossible once you graduated high school and stormed up the stairs.

Buffy perched on the arm of the couch and waited for her to say something. When Joyce instead raised an eyebrow at her, she blew out a breath. "Look, I know you don't like that I'm seeing Spike--"

"Is that what you're doing?" Joyce asked bluntly. Extending an invitation for an event a month away? It answered far too many questions Joyce hadn’t let herself ask about how serious the situation was. "Seeing Spike? You're dating?"

Buffy looked away. "Not exactly."

"Do you friends know you're 'seeing' Spike?" Buffy didn't answer, which was an answer of itself. "Buffy, do you think this is fair to him?"

Well, that got her daughter to look at her, to look at her as though she had lost her mind. "That's what's bothering you about this?"

Joyce pondered that question for a moment. "Would you like me to list the things that bother me about this? For one thing, he's a vampire. For another, I don't like to think I raised the kind of young woman who takes advantage of a man's feelings." Her daughter looked mortally affronted. "And I've seen first-hand how Spike deals with getting his heart broken. Inevitably--"

Buffy sighed. "We've been over this already, Mom. And I've been very clear with him about my feelings, I promise."

"So you have feelings for Spike now?" This conversation was not easing her concerns one bit. "The other day you were adamant that you don't love him."

"There are other feelings than love, Mom!"

"Just what every mother wants to hear about the man her daughter is sleeping with! What are you doing with him, Buffy? Do you really see a future in this... relationship?"

Buffy studied her shoes for a long time before answering. "I'm gonna say some stuff, Mom, and you're not going to like it. But I need you to hear me." Suddenly her skittish girl was gone and the Slayer was addressing her. "I didn't ask for my life back, and I don't know how long my third chance is going to last. A long time I hope, but I'm on borrowed time here. I'm not trying to get myself killed, Mom, I promise.” For a moment her voice softened and Joyce felt her hearting breaking for Buffy. “I don't even think about heaven much anymore.”

Her daughter closed her eyes for a moment before asking, “Do you know how old the longest-lived Slayer was, Mom? Giles says the oldest confirmed records say 25."

Joyce felt her brain actively rejecting this idea, objecting to having to know this fact. As a mother she could not believe that twenty five years was a respectable lifespan for her child.

Buffy stood and wandered the room a bit as she continued. "I want to break that record, really I do. And I know you've always wanted me to have a normal life, and thank you for that."

She was staring out the front window at the night outside. "I like having a little normal in my life, too. I like thinking I'm going to have a future. I'm going back to school. I'm even getting a job until classes start. Did I tell you that? But the kind of future you're asking me about? It's not going to happen. You think I'm not being fair to Spike because I don't return his feelings, but at least I'm not wasting his time. I mean, am I worse if I date Joe Normal who thinks maybe I'm the girl he'll take home to mom and maybe he'll marry and have kids with or whatever? I can't give anyone that future."

"Buffy, my god." Joyce felt like she could barely breathe. "You're getting a job?"

She felt immensely stupid once the words were past her lips, but it was the one point in her daughter's speech that she was remotely capable of addressing at the moment.

Buffy blinked at her and then let out a hysterical giggle. She wrapped her arms around Joyce's shoulders from behind and pressed her cheek to the top of her head.

Somehow, for Buffy, it would be different, had to be. Her daughter was special. She refused to believe anything else. "You understand that I can't... I don't accept that," Joyce insisted.

"I know," Buffy sighed. "That's what makes you the best mom ever."

Her mind seized on something else as well. "By the way, your sister mentioned something about you being invisible earlier?"

-------

'Buffy's boning Spike.'

Xander had uttered this little pronouncement when he'd returned to the shop. He sounded absolutely certain and when he explained about seeing Spike having sex with an invisible girl and seeing as how they knew an invisible girl... Well, he was probably right.

Now with Buffy visible once more and Willow having successfully helped them out with a non-magical solution, Xander and his girl friends all seemed to be feeling pretty good. But the conversation had been awkward, what with all the not-talking everyone was doing.

For once they had been eager to hear about the wedding plans, which was a pleasant change. Buffy was trying to talk her into some sort of pale green silk for the bridesmaids but she was fairly certain that the point was to make the attendants look as hideous as possible when compared with the bride. There was some disagreement among the online forum posts on this point.

Was Buffy enjoying him, she wondered. Of course vampires had a lot of stamina, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Technique was important. Her first husband had plenty of one and little of the other. They had to be willing to adapt, to learn. Quality really was the goa, as she'd had many additional unfortunate opportunities to discover in 1100 years. Spike seemed attentive enough, and Drusilla had kept him around for a century so he probably knew how to make a girl happy. Buffy might have to do some reeducating though, unless she and Dru had similar tastes, which, well maybe they did actually, given the overlaps in their sexual histories.

And he loved her. That gave in an extra something, certainly, being loved. And keeping it clandestine -- or at least thinking you were -- often spiced things up nicely. She had avenged many a woman whose wandering man seemed more attracted to the danger than the other woman. Xander got his danger fix helping Buffy though, so she wasn't too worried about that.

So yes, she thought, probably Buffy was enjoying him. And then she stopped really thinking very much at all because Xander did that thing she had taught him. And really, technique was essential.