Chapter One

"There's trouble in Restfield. Need the Slayer to sort it," Spike commented as he sauntered into the Magic Box. "Bloody demons chanting and raucous shaggin’, equal a bloke’s sleep being disturbed!"

Five figures glanced up from the research table and eyed the vampire with varying degrees of disinterest.

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Who? And why do we care if you can't sleep?"

Spike blinked at the older man's question. He hesitated at the front of the shop, unwilling to come in any further. The blond vampire was acutely aware of the dislike and, in some cases, out right hatred that he evoked in the so-called "White Hats" of Sunnyhell.

The petite redhead at the table frowned; her eyes blanked slightly as she tried to seize whatever memory was hovering just out of her grasp. "Slayer? Is this one of your mind games, Spike?" Willow asked, her curiosity slightly peaked.

Spike's jaw dropped. "Are you all stoned? Oi! Captain Cardboard! You can't have forgotten your main squeeze," Spike spat out the last few words, suppressing the jealously that tinged them. He began to pace.

Riley frowned. "Main squeeze? What the hell are you talking about, Hostile 17? I don't have a girlfriend." Riley's tried to stop his hand from moving to the bite tracks on his inner arms, left by his latest vampire conquest.

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it, ignoring both Anya and Giles' pointed glares. "Is this ‘bug the crap outta Spike’ night? Slayer, about so high…" Spike held his hand at shoulder height. "Blonde with big hazel green eyes and a nice rack." Spike paused for a moment. 'Nice rack? Where the bloody hell did that come from?'

"A friend of yours, Spike? ‘Cos I have to say; I wouldn't be surprised if you knew someone named Slayer. I mean some of the lowlifes you associate with, honestly." Anya tilted her head slightly and watched with poorly concealed amusement the sight of the blond vampire's jaw dropping with his half smoked cigarette attached to his bottom lip.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you lot?" Spike plucked the cigarette from his lip and threw it to the floor in a flash of anger.

"She's called Buffy," Spike hooked his thumbs in his waistband and rocked on his heels waiting for some sort of reaction. The frustration was radiating off his tense form. "Buffy Summers, your friend and protector of all that is good and right! Right stuck up little prig, prone to smashing me on the nose for the hell of it? Ring a bell?"

Willow felt something in the pit of her stomach when the obviously agitated vampire mentioned that strange name. 'What was it again?'

"Look, Spike, we don't have time for your stupid games." Giles sneered as he stalked over to the peroxide blond vampire, his Ripper persona in full force. He grabbed the smaller man and pinned him to a display case. "I want you to piss off like a good boy." With that, Giles dragged the stunned and unresisting vampire to the door and threw him out. Slamming it shut, the Englishman locked it before Spike could re-enter.

"Willow, we really need to work on a dis-invite for public places. Now, back to the subject at hand. Dracula."

"The Initiative has agreed to help out. I contacted Graham. He and a select group are coming over." Riley leant forward and smiled earnestly. "It'll be good to see them again."

"You remember to ‘just say no’ this time, right?" Anya peered over the book she was reading.

Riley smiled. "Yeah, I do...Don't worry, guys. I wouldn’t go back, not after everything you did for me."

"Well, we worry about you. I mean you are my favourite demon-fighting T.A. I can't believe those goobers were pumping you up with drugs!" Willow pouted.

Tara ran her fingers through Willow's fiery locks, calming her irritated lover.

"Honey, it's okay. We managed to save him, and Riley got rid of Adam, so we're all okay now." The usually silent blonde added, "We just need to find a way of getting Xander out from Dracula's control before we can stake him and his nasty B..Brides." Tara stumbled over word as a faint memory of blonde hair and red leather trousers flashed through her mind.

"Tara! What is it, sweetie?" Willow sensed her girlfriend's distress for a spilt second.

"Nothing. I just..." Tara shrugged, a fine line appeared between her fair eyebrows. "Spike really was weird just now. What did he mean by Slayer?"

Giles looked over. "Absolutely no idea what the idiot was talking about. Riley, remind me a again why we haven't put him out of our misery?"

"Because it's wrong, Giles. He can't fight back. He’s impotent...flaccid." Riley tried not to show too much glee at his words and failed miserably, much to the delight of the others.

Giles stared at ex-Initiative soldier, his words tickled at the edges of his subconscious. The man could see Spike chained in his tub and someone leaning over and feeding him. The image vanished in a flash, and the tweed-clad man shook his head, forgetting the images and sighed. "We need to get something on Dracula and rescue Xander before it's too late." Giles reached over and patted Anya's hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, we'll get him back."

"I hope so. I will have to disinfect him thoroughly. I mean, how disgusting, devouring spiders." Anya shuddered delicately.

Spike stood outside the Magic Box, his blue eyes widening with every overheard word. "Bloody hell! Drac's around? Sodding bastard owes me eleven quid with interest. Hang on!" Spike peered into the shop window and watched as the Scoobies laughed and researched. "They have no idea who the Slayer is. What the hell is going on?" Then the Watcher’s final words sunk in. "Rescue puffy boy? Wonder what the hell the git's gotten himself into?"

Spike froze. He could feel something inhuman watching him. The Cockney vampire twisted slowly and scanned the street. His nostrils flared as the vampire scented the air. It was familiar. Spike casually looked up, out of the corner of his eye he spotted the large grey wolf. It was sitting on the rooftop of one of the shops further down the street. 'Something's not right here.’ Spike snorted, he lit another cigarette and leant on the wall next to the Magic Shop. He held the animal's gaze until it turned and loped off, all the while listening in on the muted conversations of the Slayer's friends.

'Why the bloody hell am I worried about the blonde bint? Should be soddin’ glad she's vanished. I'm not effing Peaches!' Spike thought angrily to himself. But the former Scourge of Europe's mind was filled with Buffy's large, serious eyes and a flash of Joyce's concerned face. Spike balled his fists in frustration. He had a soft spot for the elder Summers woman; the chipped Vampire spun on his heel and dashed off towards Revello Drive.

"Did Spike say there were demons chanting and having sex in his cemetery?" Anya peered over her research book. "’Cos if that's so, it may not be a good combination, maybe someone should...you know."

Willow and Riley stood.

Giles glanced up. "Yes, right, the two of you should go. Please be careful."

"See you later, sweetie." Willow leant over and pressed a gentle kiss to Tara's lips.

"Be careful okay?" Tara eyed her lover worriedly; this was the part of Willow's life she hated. But Willow had the power to fight demons, and with Riley's army training they were an unstoppable force.

Willow nodded and followed Riley out of the store into the night.

"You have any idea what Spike was talking about?" Riley asked as they strode down Main Street.

"That Buffy girl?" Willow felt a tingle in her stomach. "No idea! But he seemed
real positive we knew who she was."

"No one you know from class?" Riley suggested.

Willow thought for a moment. "Nope, not from class and I don't think there was anyone called that in High School. Kinda a weird name, though."

"Very Valley Girl, ditzy name, isn’t it?" Riley shrugged ending the conversation.

Spike stood under the tall tree outside the Slayer's house and watched as Joyce moved from room to room. Spike waited until the older woman disappeared into the kitchen before climbing onto the roof. The agile vampire crept over the shingles and peered into the Slayer's room. Everything was still there down to the irritating pig sitting on her bed. Spike sagged against the window frame with relief. The vampire tried to ignore the emotions rolling through his body, which had been evoked from the realisation that the pain in his arse was not completely erased from Sunnydale.

"Spike?" Joyce's voice startled the vampire and sent him flying off the roof in a flurry of curses and growls.

"Soddin’ hell, woman!" Spike growled. He lay at Joyce's feet, the blonde woman smiled down at the humiliated vampire.

"You okay?" She asked, her warm voice filled with concern.

Spike closed his eyes as embarrassment flooded him. "Yeah, feel like a right nit though! Creature of the night here and I jump like a pansy and fall off your roof."

Joyce reached down and pulled the vampire to his feet. "Come on, I'll get some cocoa going and we can catch up."

Spike trotted after the gentle woman. "So where's the Slayer?"

"Who?" Joyce turned and looked over at the pole-axed demon standing behind
her.

Spike felt his stomach knot and a shiver ran down his spine. 'The Slayer's own mother has no idea who or where she is.'

"What room was I just looking into?" Spike decided to play it safe rather than start blathering on about missing daughters.

"The spare room? You know, the one I offered to you to stay in, why?" Joyce pulled Spike into the house and headed into the kitchen. “Marshmallows?" Joyce turned with the bag in her hand. "You okay?" She frowned at Spike's worried expression.

"Wot? Um, yeah. Love marshmallows, ta, pet."

"Spike, are you okay? You look really worried!" Joyce exclaimed as she reached for Spike.

The vampire remained silent, he could smell the Slayer all over and the scent was driving him nuts. He had no idea what to do or say. He automatically took the mug of hot cocoa and sipped it.

"Mum?"

"Yes, Spike, what is it?" Joyce sat down at the breakfast bar and pulled the preoccupied vampire down next to her.

"If you knew someone was missing and needed help what would you do?" Spike blew on his hot drink, his eyes never leaving the woman who sat next to him. He was shocked by the idea that she had wanted him to live in her home, but at the moment was more focused on using her as a moral guide.

"I'd try and help, maybe call the police. Or is this one of those mystical thingies we don't mention?" Joyce sipped at her mug.

Spike stood. "Right! Help…I guess I could do that?" He tilted his head and looked at his only friend for approval.

Joyce reached over and patted him on the arm. "Yes, you could, Spike, I think you could help a great deal." Before she could add anything else, Spike disappeared with a burst of vampiric speed into the night.