A/N: HUGE THANKS to my wonderful beta for this fic, Eowyn315!!!





“I’m telling you, Slayer, do *not* let him in this house!”

Angel’s pleading, apologetic expression changed in an instant when he heard Spike’s voice. He peered around the Watcher and the Slayer standing near the doorway and caught sight of the younger vampire, tied to a chair in the living room and fiercely warning them against letting him in.

“Um – what is Spike doing here?” he asked uncertainly.

“Well – a lot’s been happening, Angel, and…” Buffy caught herself, frowning as her eyes narrowed in reluctant suspicion. “I mean – if you even are Angel again. I’m sorry, but – we can’t be sure yet, and…”

“It’s me, Buffy. I’m telling you the truth…” He paused, taking a step closer to her, as close as he could come with the barrier in place, and holding her gaze with his wide, searching dark eyes. “Look in my eyes, Buffy – you have to see that it’s me.”

His words were spoken softly, with an intensity of emotion that caught at her heart.

Or rather, it would have, if Spike had not been reciting the words with him in a high, mimicking voice.

Buffy turned her incredulous eyes toward Spike, not sure whether she was more stunned that he had known what Angel was about to say, down to every last word, tone, and inflection; or irritated that he had ruined what surely would have been a powerful moment between her and her restored love.

*If* Angel was really restored, that was.

“Shut up, Spike,” she muttered in warning, rolling her eyes as she looked back at Angel regretfully. “But – I’m sorry, Angel. I – I thought I knew that it was you a few days ago – and I was wrong. And – and if anything Spike is saying is true, then – then we have good reason to believe that your soul hasn’t been restored…”

“I – never said that.”

Buffy turned toward Spike again in surprise and exasperation, giving him an expectant, questioning look.

He let out a heavy sigh of resignation, as he reluctantly admitted, “That’s not what I said, Slayer. He’s got his bloody soul back – for all the good it’ll do anyone. All I said was you shouldn’t let him in. Soul or not, he’s still dangerous.”

Now Buffy looked *really* confused.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “If Angel has his soul back – if he’s back to normal – then…then it’s safe – right? Angel’s good. He wouldn’t hurt us…”

“Slayer,” Spike said, his voice low and full of forced patience, his eyes focused somewhere just beyond her. “Please, just close the door – and listen to me.”

“Buffy, this is ridiculous,” Angel interrupted, drawing her eyes back to him uncertainly. “Why would you listen to him? He’s an evil, lying monster who’s killed two Slayers before, and all he wants is the chance to make you the third. You can’t trust anything he has to say.” His eyes were earnest, sincere, as he added, “Buffy, you know I would never hurt you.”

“Well, before we make any decisions regarding either vampire,” Giles broke in, clearing his throat and stepping forward, effectively ending the moment between the Slayer and her vampire lover, “we ought to perform the soul locating spell again, and determine whether or not either of them actually has a soul at this point in time.”

“Good,” Buffy nodded, taking a step back, suddenly self-conscious. “Good idea. Let’s do that. And – and there will be no inviting in – and no untying from chairs – until we know for sure exactly what we’re dealing with here.”

“Knowing whether or not we have souls isn’t going to tell you that,” Spike insisted.

“Just – shut up, Spike,” Buffy bit off the words, reining in her temper at the last moment, her voice low and barely controlled as she turned a warning glare on him. “Unless you’d rather I just gag you, too, because that can be arranged. I’m sure Giles has some duct tape around here somewhere.”

She gave him a wide, false smile, which he answered with a sarcastic, mimicking grin.

“Okay,” Jenny spoke up a bit nervously, after a quick glance at Willow revealed that she did not seem ready to move, let alone perform the spell. “I’ll, um – I’ll get started then.”

At some point during the conversation, the little redhead had slowly backed up, until she was standing against the far wall, her eyes focused on the floor. Scanning the room, Buffy’s eyes fell on her, and the Slayer’s expression softened with guilt and regret.

“Willow,” she began softly.

Willow did not wait to see what she had to say, just immediately turned on her heel and strode quickly into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind her and disappearing from their sight.

Buffy started to go after her, but Giles caught her arm.

“Buffy,” he said gently, shaking his head at her in mild reproof. “Give her a bit of space, yes? I’d imagine this is all – rather difficult for her to deal with.”

As he spoke, the Watcher shot a dirty look of disgust at the dark vampire standing in the doorway, and Buffy once again felt terribly uncomfortable and self-conscious, uncertain how to respond in this situation. She glanced up at Angel, who seemed equally uncomfortable, clearing his throat and tucking his head.

“I – I’m sorry, Buffy. I – I remember what happened – and you have to know that wasn’t me. I – would never…”

From across the room, Spike made a soft, scoffing sound in his throat, drawing a troubled frown from Buffy and a frustrated snarl from Angel.

“Spike, would you shut up?” he demanded. “Just stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you!”

“It has *everything* to do with me, you soddin’ bastard!” Spike snarled back at him, straining against the bonds that held him to the chair, obviously wanting to do more than verbally attack the older vampire.

Buffy flinched slightly in surprise – and something else, a darker feeling – at the intense emotion in Spike’s voice, and she found suddenly that she could not look at him, or at Angel. She was almost afraid of what she might see revealed in their eyes.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice low and holding a note of warning that drew the attention of both vampires. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re all just going to back off the situation for a few minutes, cut the fighting and sniping at each other. Miss Calendar’s going to do the spell, and in the meantime, Angel, I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to wait outside.”

She gave him an apologetic look, and he nodded his reluctant agreement. She closed the door softly and leaned against it as she turned serious eyes on Spike.

“And once we’re done with that, *you* are going to tell me *everything* that you saw in these visions you’ve supposedly had.”

***********************************

“So Angel’s soul and Spike’s soul are precisely where they’re supposed to be,” Giles stated flatly, echoing what Jenny had just told them after performing the spell again.

The teacher nodded solemnly, her dark eyes focused on his. “That’s what the spell showed. Both Angel and Spike now have their souls. It should be safe to untie Spike, and to let Angel in.”

“And why do neither of those ideas sound good to me?” Xander remarked caustically.

Willow suddenly reappeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, surprising the rest of them. When she had their attention, she stated calmly, perhaps *too* calmly, “If you invite him in here – I’m leaving. I won’t be here – with him.”

“Willow – I know this is hard,” Buffy said after a long moment, heading toward her friend. “But you have to understand that he’s not the same person who – who attacked you. He’s…”

“He’s *precisely* the same person, Red!” Spike interrupted sharply. “Don’t listen to that bloody shite, love. Angel and Angelus are one and the same. Always have been and always will be.”

“That’s a lie!” Buffy snarled, whirling around on him with narrowed, furious eyes.

“It’s not!” Spike shot back in defiance, his blue eyes blazing into hers. “And you’d better bloody well hope you get that through your head faster than you did in the future I saw, or you and everyone you care about are gonna find out the hard way!”

Buffy closed the distance between them in an instant, drawing back her fist and backhanding Spike viciously. “I told you to shut up,” she hissed, her eyes blazing with fear and fury, and sparkling with tears at the vampire’s words, which had done nothing less than to bring her worst fears to life.

The blow had been hard and powerful, and Spike’s head remained turned to the side for a long moment, a sarcastic smile twisting his features before he laughed softly, bitterly, shaking his head.

Slowly, he looked back at her, glaring up at her as he said in a quiet, even voice, “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s already too late to save you, Slayer.”

“To *save* me?” she echoed, with indignant disbelief. “What are you talking about, to *save* me?”

“Willow!”

Xander’s concerned voice drew their attention, and Buffy turned to see that her friend had left the room again. “What – what happened? What’s wrong?” she asked, as Xander stalked past her toward the kitchen.

“What do you think?” the boy muttered disgustedly.

As he passed her, Buffy caught his arm. “Wait, I’ll go,” she offered. “I should talk to her…”

Xander pulled his arm out of her grasp, replying coldly, “No, maybe you’d be better off just staying here and indulging your vampire obsession.”

Buffy flinched, as stricken by the words as by a blow. She shook her head emphatically, opening her mouth to protest, “Xander…”

“Really, Buffy – you should stay here.” Without another word, Xander followed Willow into the kitchen.

Buffy stared after him for a moment, before lowering her head with a deep, shaky sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” she muttered under her breath. “Things are supposed to be getting *better*…Angel has his soul back…”

“She’s right not to trust him, Slayer…”

Buffy looked up at Spike, her eyes dark and angry, and he knew that he should heed the warning he saw there – but he cared too much to let the terrible future ahead of her happen without at least attempting to stop it.

God help him, he cared too much…

“This is nothing, Slayer. This is just the beginning. You think things are bad between you and your friends now? Give Angelus a month…”

The Slayer turned to face him fully, taking a menacing step toward him. “Spike, soul or no soul, you say one more word, and…”

“Okay, okay…”

“*One. More. Word*.”

Spike finally took the hint, and said nothing more for the moment.

Buffy turned to her Watcher, as she often did when unsure of which direction to go. “Giles…?”

“I’ll handle this, Buffy,” he said softly, his expression unreadable as he regarded her, before turning to open the door. “Angel,” he said coolly, icy blue eyes piercing into the soul of the vampire, causing him to avert his gaze as quickly as he had given it to Giles. “We have established that your soul has indeed been restored. I am certain that Buffy will want to speak with you at some point soon, as will I. There are – details, specifics, which must be discussed. But I am not going to invite you into my home. You are not welcome here tonight, Angel.”

The dark vampire looked up at the Watcher, stunned by his words. “But – but Giles…”

But the Watcher had already closed the door firmly in his face.

Buffy stared at her Watcher, as surprised as Angel by his decision. She didn’t know whether she felt more relieved or disappointed by his turning Angel away. Her eyes were questioning, uncertain, as she waited for him to clarify his decision.

“You have your friend, and your boyfriend, to consider in this situation, Buffy,” he said mildly, holding her gaze with compassion, but also with a firmness that would not allow her to deny the truth. “One has wronged the other. It’s really quite simple.”

“I – I know,” Buffy whispered, lowering her gaze, suddenly feeling very much ashamed, as she swallowed back the hard lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m sorry…”

“And you should tell her so. But – now is not the time. Now that two of Spike’s three claims have been proven to be true, I think it’s time to hear what he has to say about the future events he has seen.”

Buffy’s heart sank with dread at those words, though she knew her Watcher was right.

She just was not at all sure that she wanted to know what it was that Spike had seen.

*********************************

Angel stormed away from the Watcher’s apartment, fuming.

He wished that he could have gotten into the house without an invitation, more now than before, because he would have loved to have throttled the old man for his arrogance, his interference in something that had nothing to do with him.

It was going to be hard enough making things right again with Buffy as it was, without Giles sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong and turning her against him. Frustration filled him as he stormed down the sidewalk back toward the mansion where he had left Drusilla.

He wondered vaguely what would happen if he decided to take out his frustration on the dark vampiress when he got there. Would the fleeting moments of pleasure he would find with her drive the soul from his body again?

Would he care if they did?

It was strange, how detached he really felt from the whole situation – as if, in a way, it really didn’t matter all that much to him if Buffy forgave him or not. Emotionally, he supposed it didn’t, really. He had longed for her, desired her, for so long, and now that he had been with her, he simply – didn’t.

He had tasted the girl who had been the face of his redemption – and had decided that, perhaps, redemption was not all it was cracked up to be.

Still, it would be quite a bit safer to have the Slayer as his girlfriend than as his ex-girlfriend, of that much he was sure.

And now, he would not be able to talk to her for hours, maybe longer. By the time he finally managed to get Buffy alone, away from the meddling influence of her Watcher and her friends, Spike would already have had plenty of time to turn her against him completely. Giles probably hadn’t been thinking of his keen vampire hearing when he had so arrogantly slammed the door in his face, but Angel had clearly heard the conversation taking place inside.

It was so unfair that he was being blamed for what Angelus had done to Willow.

And really, nothing had happened.

The pathetic little wallflower had finally been touched by a man – and she couldn’t handle it. She chose to whine about it to her friends, and now *he* was the one paying for it!

And it was all Spike’s fault.

Angel was sure that if Spike hadn’t been in there, running his mouth about how dangerous Angel still was, Giles would have let him in. Spike had merely fed the fire of Willow’s fears, and managed to keep him out, when he was the one who actually had a *right* to be there.

What was Spike doing there, anyway? Why was he not still starving to death in the Crawford Street mansion?

Why had Buffy helped him?

“Dangerous, huh?” he muttered resentfully. “Yeah – I’ll show him how dangerous I am. When I’m through with that boy he’ll *beg* me to kill him! And if Buffy goes along with his stupid lies – well, she’ll be sorry, too. They’ll all be sorry they ever messed with me!”