Notes: Some lines in this chapter have been snagged and altered or outright filched from the episode Into the Woods.

Disclaimer: Not mine, all Joss.

And the Dream Shall Set You Free
Chapter Seven

*****
They didn’t fill the waiting area by the nurses’ station, but they made a pretty good attempt, and the fact that they were there filled Buffy’s heart.

Of course, that didn’t mean that they weren’t annoying.  Giles paced heavily, Willow kept asking the time, Xander couldn’t sit still, and Riley kept grabbing her hand no matter how many times she tried to move it.

Out of all of them, Buffy decided, that was the worst.  Or, well, maybe the worst part is that I can’t say anything about it right now.

She wanted to… kind of.  Mostly, what she wanted was for her mother to come out of the operation safely.  After that, she wanted Glory to disappear and take her skanky wardrobe and Key-seeking, Dawn-stealing… things with her.  She’d faced down four major apocalypses, and she wished she could find the courage to break up with her boyfriend.

I’m such an emotional coward, she sighed.

Even though their talk had ended with Riley leaving in a huff, he thought that conversation had reset them – that they were back where they’d been just a few months ago.  But I’m not there with him, she thought almost wistfully.  I don’t think he even realizes it.  I need to tell him.  After Mom’s surgery, I’ll tell him.  It’s not fair to him if I drag it out any longer.  Not when…

She wasn’t thinking of her dreams of Spike as nightmares any more.  In fact, in some ways, she looked forward to them.

And that made her feel that her apology to Riley was incomplete.  She had apologized for her distance, for her anger over Spike’s near-dust experience, for the way she’d ignored him after killing the Queller demon.  But she hadn’t made an attempt to kiss him, nor responded to his kisses, and she felt increasingly uncomfortable.  She hated deception almost as much as she hated causing him pain.

He needs to know, Buffy, she told herself firmly.  He needs to find someone to love him, who will love him better than me.  That’s how I have to look at this.  Somehow, a weight she didn’t even know she was carrying lifted from her shoulders.  She did love Riley – he was a friend, a good friend even… but that was all.

Buffy was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice Dr. Krieger approaching.  Dawn nudged her.  “Buffy,” she whispered, “Mom’s doctor is…”

She spared a moment to squeeze Dawn’s hand.  Hearing her sister so afraid was just wrong.  She rose to her feet, drawing Dawn with her.  “Doctor,” she said, and her voice was a little croaky.

She didn’t get any further, as Dr. Krieger launched into a glowing report on her mother’s surgery.  Relief and joy washed over her, and while she heard the exclamations behind her, she didn’t pay any attention to them.  Trying to hold her tears of happiness at bay and failing, Buffy turned and grabbed Dawn, hugging her tightly enough that she actually squeaked.  “She’s gonna be okay, Dawnie!” she whispered.  “Everything’s gonna be all right!”

Dawn’s return embrace wasn’t as strong, but it was no less heartfelt.  Buffy let her hands comb through Dawn’s hair, fine strands twining around her fingers, before releasing her entirely.

It felt like the only thing left to worry about was telling Mom the whole truth about Dawn, and no matter what she’d already guessed, Buffy knew she would still love Dawn as her own daughter.

Her blinding smile dimmed slightly when she saw Riley looking at her expectantly.  No, she thought regretfully, giving him a reluctant hug, not quite the only thing to worry about…

***
Dawn had suspected something was up by the way Buffy was so eager to get rid of Riley when they left the hospital.  It was just starting to get dark at that point, and she’d half expected (and mostly dreaded, to tell the truth) that Buffy would jump at the chance for Riley to accompany them.  Especially since my sister is all uber-psycho-protective of me lately, she thought.  Ever since she did that weird smelly spell and totally wigged out at me.

But it seemed Buffy didn’t want her boyfriend to come with them, and Dawn was equal parts grateful and suspicious.

When Buffy dragged her into Restfield Cemetery, she had her answers.  “Are we going to see Spike?” she asked, and there was an edge of anticipation in her voice she just couldn’t quite contain.  She made a face when her sister rolled her eyes at her enthusiasm.  I can’t help it if he’s like the coolest thing ever, she thought disdainfully.

“Duh, Dawn.  Why else would we be going into a cemetery when it’s getting dark?”

“Well,” Dawn replied hopefully, “you could always be taking me on patrol.”

“Didn’t we already have this discussion?” Buffy huffed and walked faster.  “That is going to happen on the twelfth of never.”

“Meanie.” Dawn pouted briefly, then her excitement at seeing Spike bubbled up again as they reached his crypt.  Buffy pushed the heavy door open and stepped in, and she couldn’t believe it.  “Jeez, Buffy, did Mom forget to tell you about knocking?”

Buffy paused, half inside the crypt, blinking incredulously at her before grabbing her arm and yanking her in as well.

“Ow!” she cried, and rubbed her arm petulantly when Buffy released her to close the door.  “Freak.”

“Brat.”

“Slayer.  Nibblet.”  Spike’s deep voice drifted over them, and they paused in their budding argument to face him.  He was lounging in his icky green chair, leaning back against one arm and twisting around to face them.  “Hope you didn’t come all this way to have a squabble just for my sake.”

Dawn blushed, and even though the light was dim inside, she could see that Buffy did, too.  “Sorry,” they muttered, almost at the same time, and then shot glowery looks at each other, blaming the other.  Or well, Dawn thought darkly, at least I’m blaming her.

Spike gave a snort of laughter.  “No doubt that you’re sisters.”

Buffy turned her scowl on Spike, but after only a few moments it melted away into a grin.  “Don’t remind me,” she said.  She hopped up onto the sarcophagus nearest Spike’s chair, and belatedly, Dawn followed.

Spike nodded, smiling.  “Good to know your mum’s all right.”

Dawn gaped at him.  “But we… How did…”

He cocked his head a little to one side, studying them.  “You’re here, and you’re actin’ like regular sisters do.  Stands to reason your mum came through her operation.”

Infuriatingly, Buffy just continued to grin, letting Dawn do her landed fish impersonation.  “Yep!  Mom’s all tumor-free now.  I can’t tell you what a huge relief this is.”

He nodded again and settled back into his chair.  “Glad to hear it.”

Suddenly Buffy leaned forward, frowning and staring at Spike.  “Hey, are you all right?” she demanded.  “You look tired… well, normally I’d say dead, but in your case…”

Dawn turned to study the vampire, now shifting nervously in his chair.  He did look tired, as Buffy had said.  She remembered how he’d been after he’d first escaped from the Initiative last year, and it wasn’t quite that bad, but he still looked paler than usual, with dark rings around his eyes that definitely weren’t from eyeliner.  “We didn’t wake you up, did we?” she asked, worried, then turned her best angry-teenager glare on her sister.  “See?  I told you!  Knocking is a virtue!”

“Dawn…”

“No, I wasn’t asleep,” Spike answered with a sigh.

Buffy’s frown grew deeper.  “Expecting company of the not-so-friendly kind?”

“Maybe.  No cause for your concern, love.  I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just…” Buffy sighed.  “I worry, is all.”

Dawn nodded emphatically.  “Me, too.”

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, pets, but… thanks.”

“You want me to patrol tonight, so you can rest?”

“But…” Immediately Dawn swallowed the rest of her objection, and wished she hadn’t even gotten that much out.  I don’t need the sisters-only ice cream party.  I don’t. Even if she really only said it to get rid of Riley tonight. “Buffy, I think that’s a good plan.  Spike really looks like he could get some sleep.”

Spike shot her a sour look.  “Thanks ever so, bit.”

Dawn shrugged.  “Gotta call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she replied, and managed a grin.

“And no, Slayer, I don’t want you to patrol.”

“You should rest!”

“I’ll rest afterwards.”

Buffy’s scowl grew heated. “Being exhausted is no way to patrol!  And trust me on that, ‘cause I oughtta know!”

Spike returned her glare.  “An’ I said I’ll rest afterwards.”  Then his face settled into his familiar smirk.  “Got some payback I need to dish out.”

“Oh, well, payback.”  Buffy’s tense posture relaxed a little, and she offered him a smug grin.  “Now, see, that I understand.  Why didn’t you say so?”

Dawn rolled her eyes.  “Man,” she muttered. “Is the language of violence the only way you can communicate?”

“Oh, hush, you.  Let’s get home.” Still grinning, Buffy slid down off the sarcophagus.  “Thank you, Spike.  I can start patrolling again tomorrow night, and hey! The night after is our usual night to patrol together, so I’ll swing by, all right?”

Dawn squeaked in protest when she found herself being pulled off the sarcophagus.  But before either she or the vampire could summon any words, the whirlwind of Slayer motion was practically out the door, towing Dawn in her wake.

“Later, Spike!” Buffy tossed cheerfully over her shoulder, and pulled the crypt door shut behind her.

Outside, still being dragged along, Dawn stumbled over the uneven ground and nearly turned her ankle.  “Ouch!  Buffy, slow down!”

“Sorry, Dawnie,” Buffy said, and slowed down marginally.  “But we’ve still got to get the ice cream, and I just want to get home before it gets too much later.”

Dawn stopped still, staring at her sister in shock.  Her grip on Dawn’s arm caused Buffy to halt as well, turning to face her with a question on her lips.  Before she could say anything, Dawn whispered, “I didn’t think you meant it.”

“Huh?” Buffy’s brow wrinkled up in confusion.  “What are you talking about?”

“The ice cream,” Dawn continued, now staring at her shoes.  “I thought it was just a… a ploy to get away from Riley.  I didn’t think you meant it.”

Buffy’s hand was warm and gentle as she stroked her hair.  Dawn leaned into the touch, knowing how much her sister liked to play with her hair.  “Of course I meant it,” Buffy said softly.  “Yeah, it was a great way to get rid of Riley, but that’s not why I said it, Dawnie, not at all.”

Looking up through her eyelashes, Dawn managed a trembling smile.  “Can I have Chunky Monkey?”

Buffy made her blech face.  “Eew.  Yes.  Just don’t expect me to share.”

This time, when they started walking again, Buffy wasn’t pulling her along, and had slowed her pace to match Dawn’s.  Dawn bumped her shoulder against her sister’s, just happy to have some quiet time alone with her.

***
She was right there in his arms, but she was still a million miles away.

Of course, Riley couldn’t really say anything about that – just yesterday, Buffy had gotten the news she’d been hoping to hear ever since her mother’s ordeal had started.   She was allowed to be all space cadet if she wanted to be.

But he couldn’t help but think it would have been nicer to actually hold his girl, not the board she was masquerading as.  She had apologized for not being there for him, for being as distant as he’d once accused her of being… but it hadn’t changed anything.  She was as much not here as she would have been if she were still at the hospital.

Riley felt like all his careful prep was going to waste.  Soft music, candles on most available surfaces, the living room furniture pushed out of the way so they could slowly sway together before – he hoped – going up to her room… and she just wasn’t with him.

Wanting to reach her, he coaxed her head to rest against his chest as they moved.  At least I won’t have to see the distance in her eyes this way, he thought, and was ashamed.  “So, how does it feel?” he asked softly, trying to get her to let him in.

Buffy relaxed against him ever so slightly.  “It’s wonderful – like all the tension has just completely left my body.”

And he couldn’t begrudge her the happiness in her voice, now that her mother was going to recover, but he couldn’t hide the hint of hurt as he spoke.  After all, they hadn’t been together since Buffy had been stabbed by the vampire.  “Oh.  And here I had that scheduled for a little later tonight.”

Buffy looked up at him at those words, frowning a little, and he wondered just what she’d heard in his voice.  After a moment, her brow smoothed and she apparently decided to ignore it.  “I want to thank you for understanding about me and Dawnie wanting to have a private, sisters-only ice-cream-a-palooza last night,” she said instead.  “We really needed that.”

“Sure, Buffy.” It was difficult to keep the resentment from his tone this time.

He’d thought for sure that Buffy would have packed Dawn off with the rest of the gang last night, and let it just be her and him.  And maybe he’d been a little… pushy in trying to get her alone tonight, but it still felt like he wasn’t spending any time with her at all.

Like she’s avoiding me, he thought.

Just then, Buffy stifled a yawn, and that really became the final blow.  They stopped swaying and he stared down at her in disbelief until she flushed and pulled away.

Suddenly, he felt very empty.

“I’m sorry, Riley,” she said, studying her feet.  “The past few weeks have been filled with all kinds of stress, and now it’s like I can finally… well, knowing that Mom is going to be all right is just a huge relief.  No more sleepless nights for Buffy!” She flashed him a guilty looking grin.  “I’m really sorry, but I think I’m just going to go bed soonish, and maybe sleep late tomorrow.  I’ll see you then, all right?”

It was only then that Riley got what she was saying.  She was throwing him out.  In the nicest possible way, but still.  It took everything he had to push his anger back down.  “I… yeah.  I’ll see you later.”

She winced a little at his curt words, but just then he found it really hard to care.  “I’m sorry, Riley,” she repeated quietly as he made his way to the door.

“It’s all right,” he replied, though his tone clearly said it was anything but.  “I just… talk to you tomorrow.”

He didn’t think he’d be able to control himself if she apologized again, so it was probably best that she didn’t.  She also didn’t offer to kiss him good night, either, and he was upset enough that he could tell himself he didn’t care.

The door closed softly behind him, and the finality of it bothered him – but not enough to overcome the hurt anger.  He strode away, his destination fixed in his mind.

***
Last night had been a fluke, and Spike believed that sometimes, you had to make your own luck.  So that was why he was lurking in the shadows just down the street from the Slayer’s house, eyes trained on the front door. And when Captain Cardboard appeared, wearing an angry scowl, Spike knew.  He’s goin’ back there.  Bloody wanker!

It didn’t, however, explain why he’d spent most of last night’s payback – er, patrol –  wrestling with this very issue – to tell the Slayer or not – before deciding at last to sleep on it and see if it was just a one-time thing.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

He took one last drag off his cigarette and ground the spent end under his boot before trailing after the soldier boy, staying far enough behind that it wasn’t too obvious that he was being followed.  Even so, once or twice, Spike had to duck into whatever darkness would hide him when Riley unexpectedly glanced behind him.

He stopped just short of the nest, peering carefully around the corner of a building to watch Cardboard enter, and the door close.  Spike withdrew, back around the corner, leaning his head against the bricks and staring up at the small patch of sky visible between the buildings.

What the bloody hell am I doing? he asked himself, and ran a hand through his hair.  Why the hell should I care if he’s such a blazing idiot that he’d go to a place like this?  Let him find out first hand what happens when one of those emaciated trulls gets carried away.  He pushed off the wall and stalked back the way he’d come, lighting up another cigarette.  How can a git like that have a girl like the Slayer and still…

He stopped short, closing his eyes briefly.  Oh, bollocks.  What am I gonna do about the Slayer? If he ends up dead and she finds out I knew about his li’l nocturnal jaunts, I’m as good as dust.

He wasn’t quite sure he believed that any more… but it wouldn’t have been too far from the truth only months ago.

Christ, I don’t want to tell her.  He took a fortifying drag.  It’s not like she’s gonna believe me, either.  Don’t need any more Slayer punches to the nose.  Yeah.  With a nod, he resumed walking, secure in his decision.

It therefore came as some surprise when he discovered himself not only on Revello Drive, but on the Slayer’s porch, staring at her front door.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.  “Gone all soft.  Might as well trade in my fangs for a white hat.”

Why in hell am I riskin’ a thrashin’ to tell her what she’s never gonna believe?  The thought came out of nowhere – ‘cause she’ll be more hurt if something happens to her honey and I didn’t say something – and he couldn’t deny the truth of it.  He sighed and reached for the doorknob.  Besides, I kinda like the Slayer now she’s not such a flaming bitch.  Don’t want her to go back to the way she used to treat me.  Satisfied that he was only doing this to save himself grief, he tested the door.

***
The vampire tinglies on the back of her neck screamed and woke Buffy from a very pleasant dream.  She jolted upright, grabbing for a stake before remembering that vamps needed invites, and that there were only two vampires that could come into her house.

“Slayer?”

And one of them is the one I was just dreaming about.  Shaking away what remained of her sleepy fog, she shoved the stake back under her pillow.  “Spike?”  She could just make him out, a light-crowned shadow just inside her bedroom door.  “What are you doing here?”  The surge of adrenaline had already started to fade, and she slumped a little.  Then some bits of her dream came floating back to her. 

Firm abs beneath her hands, warmed by her touch, cool lips heating against her throat, clever fingers inching under the waistband of her jeans…

Quickly, she pulled her attention back to him when she heard him take a deep breath.  “Slayer… Buffy, there’s something… something I have to show you.”

She shivered.  Not helping with the saying my name like that!  Then the rest of his words registered.  “What is it?”

“It’s… something you need to see.”  The white of his head moved, and she could imagine him looking away, anywhere but at her.  “Come on, we should hurry.”

Now she was frowning.  “Spike, what is it?”

“Buffy, I can’t… I just have to show you.  So you’ll believe me.”  The last he said so quietly that she wasn’t actually certain she’d heard correctly.

She nodded, sighing quietly.  “All right, let me get dressed.”  With her finger, she made a circling motion, indicating he should turn away.  That he did so without protest – or taunting – impressed on her the seriousness of the matter, whatever it was, and she dressed as fast as she could, pulling on the first things that came to hand and letting her pajamas fall.

Once outside, the pace Spike set was just a bit too fast for conversation, and she wondered why he didn’t want her asking questions.

Within a short while, they were standing at the back of a run-down building.  The stairs leading to the door were old, the outside facing covered with the remains of faded posters.  When she glanced at him, Spike nodded toward the stairs and the door.  Before she could mount the stairs, though, he grabbed her arm.  “This isn’t to hurt you, pet,” he said softly, his eyes focused intently on her face.  “Just want to tell you that.  This isn’t to hurt you… but it’s something you need to know.”

Bewildered by his words – her heart sinking as she contemplated the possible situations that might await inside – Buffy nodded.  He released her arm and gestured for her to precede him up the stairs.  Once at the top, he reached around her to open the door.

Vampires!  There were several vamps inside – a possible nest, yeah, she thought, glancing at Spike, but not anything that couldn’t wait until our patrol tomorrow night.

He met her gaze, as if he were expecting her to question this, then tilted his head toward the open door.  “It’s all right, pet,” he said quietly.  She nodded and stepped inside.

It was the worst kind of nest.  The smell of decay and death hit her at once, and she had to fight to keep from gagging.  The walls were covered with graffiti, the sticky floor littered with all kinds of trash.  Old sofas with mismatched cushions added the unpleasant odor of mildewed upholstery to the mix, and Buffy really wished she didn’t have to breathe.  She stumbled forward, then stopped, staring in shock.

On one of the sofas – one that she wouldn’t ever want to sit on –  she saw a skinny vamp in ratty clothing, sucking on the neck of another, better dressed one.  Slowly, however, it dawned on her that the one being sucked was human, and that the vamp wasn’t draining him, was just taking tiny, unhurried sips…

“Spike?” Her voice trembled.  “What…”

“I know, love,” he replied softly, right in her ear.  “I’ll explain it in a bit, promise.  Now, upstairs.”

Mechanically, she moved in the direction he indicated.  When she’d come in, she’d automatically placed every vampire, wondering why she hadn’t brought a stake.  Now one of them stepped away from the wall, to confront not her, but Spike.  She heard the vamp say something, though she didn’t bother to decipher the words, and then Spike’s deep voice issuing an order to be quiet.  In a moment, he was at her back, something familiar in this strange and horrible new place. 

The irony of feeling comforted by having a vampire as old as Spike at her back was not lost on her.

The corridor into which the stairway emptied was little better than the main room below, lit by a single filthy window.  Still stunned by what she had seen below, she let Spike guide her to a door that was just slightly ajar.  Then he pushed the door open fully, and she looked in.

The room was only illuminated by the moon and what little light was reflected up from the unbroken street lamps outside.  By the window were two figures, distinguishable from the shadows only by the gleam of light on pale flesh.  Buffy recognized the wide chest, marred by a rough patch of scar tissue.  Riley?

Seated between his legs, bent over his arm – right where he told me he got a cut when I saw the bandage yesterday! – was a vamp girl skinnier even than the ones Buffy had seen downstairs.  She was sucking his blood.

“Harder,” Riley ordered, his tone harsh, and the vampire growled in response, but whether she was rebelling at his word or pleased to take more, Buffy couldn’t tell.

She didn’t know when she’d covered her mouth, but she had.  And when both Riley and the vamp girl looked up, she knew she’d made some sound.  The vamp dismissed her immediately, either not knowing what or who the Slayer was, or not caring.  Riley tensed, his face filled with shock and something like fear.  “Buffy,” he whispered… but made no attempt to remove the vamp from his arm, or to get up.

Somehow, that was the last straw.  Knowing only that she needed to get away before she gave into the riot of emotions seething inside, Buffy pushed past Spike and ran down the stairs as fast as she could.  In the main room, a vamp – stuck in the 80’s to judge by his hair and jacket – tried to get in the path of her flight.  “Hey, where do you think…” he started, but never got to finish as she shoved him away.  He flew up and back into the wall with the force of her push.  Plaster crumbled around him, and she flung open the door to the outside.

She stopped at the bottom of the outside steps, panting as though she’d run miles and miles, and as soon as she stopped moving, the confusion overwhelmed her.  How could he do that? How could he let a vamp feed from him?  With a guilty start, she remembered her own bites from the undead, and she fisted her hands and pressed them to her eyes.  Oh, God, I’m so confused…

“Slayer?”  Spike’s voice was low and rough and right next to her.

Slowly she lifted her head to glance over at him… and it struck her then.  It was her fault.  Somehow, she’d driven her boyfriend to this… with her unbidden feelings for Spike and her sudden cooling toward Riley, however obvious or not, combined with the insecurity he’d felt about his surgery.  Her over-protectiveness.  Her secrecy.  She had forced him to this somehow – made him betray her trust… and her friendship, even if she wasn’t in love with him.  “My fault…”

“Buffy?”

She jumped at the sound of her name and found Spike frowning at her, as if he were concerned.  “I didn’t mean…” He trailed off.

The door above them flew open and she spun around at the noise.  Riley was halfway down the steps in just a couple of long strides.  He saw Buffy and stopped.  “Buffy…”

She took a deep breath, forcing down the need to run that filled her.  Behind her, she felt Spike edging away, backing off to hide in the shadows, and she wasn’t sure whether to thank him or not.

Even without him there to draw more of Riley’s anger, this was going to be painful. It’s already painful, she thought, and let out a soft breath.  It’s been a slow, painful death since I realized I’m not in love him.

Riley took the last few steps, until he was just in front of her.  “I think we need to talk.”

She crossed her arms, wishing she’d worn a heavier jacket to keep out the chill – and knowing it wouldn’t have helped.  “Yeah, we really do.”  She eyed him and deliberately stepped back a pace.  “So talk.”

He looked at her, his face pleading in the glare of the street lamps.  “Let’s go somewhere else, okay?”

“Here is good.”  She was surprised at how cold her tone was.

Apparently, Riley was, too; he flinched.

“Is this where you give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?” And somehow, her voice didn’t even quaver.  “‘Cause I think I could quote it word for word at this point.”

He bristled at that.  “Hey, this isn’t just my fault here, Buffy,” he retorted.

“Funny, but I didn’t see anyone holding a gun to your head so you’d let her bite you!”

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and she could see that he was trying to hold back his anger.  Somehow, she caught hold of the edge of her temper.  “Riley, I’m not going to pretend that I know what was going on in there.  But whatever it is, if you’re letting them bite you, it’s too dangerous.  It’s…”

“Maybe I wanted to figure out what it was like… why you let Dracula bite you…”

That thin rein of control she had snapped.  “God!  I didn’t let him do anything!  Does the word thrall mean nothing?”

“And Angel? Did he use thrall too?”

The bitterness in Riley’s voice made her pause, drained away her anger.  “No.  Angel… I made Angel bite me to keep him from dying.  He loved me… and he nearly killed me.  Why do you think I’m telling you this is dangerous?  He loved me and he had a soul and he still almost drained me.”  Her voice rose as she tried to convince him.  “Those vamps in there… they don’t have souls and they sure don’t love you and they’re not gonna care if they kill you!  What if she’d taken too much? I could have been staking you in a few nights!  Do you know how that feels?  To have to kill someone I care about?”

Something in his eyes died as her words hit home.  “Someone you care about.”

Hoping he wasn’t going where she thought he was going, Buffy frowned.  “Of course…”

He stared into her face.  “But not someone you love.”

He was.  She simply couldn’t meet his gaze, and blushing, she looked down at the pavement.

He took an unsteady breath. “Buffy…” The pain in his voice cut her, and she closed her eyes.  “You don’t love me.”

“Riley…” She just couldn’t get the words out.  All the things she knew now she should have said days ago stuck in her throat.

“You… you don’t love me.  You don’t need me.”  His flat, humorless snort of laughter made her look up.  “I thought… I thought that maybe you would.  I wanted you to need me.”

“Please, Riley, I…”

“She needed me, Buffy!”

Even though she’d already dimly suspected that it would end up being something like that, it was still a shock to hear him actually say it.

“She needed me, and for just those few minutes when she was sucking my blood, I was everything to her.”

He knows, she thought, a bit numbly.  He knows.  “And I don’t need you like that,” she said very quietly.

Pain creased his features, and Buffy regretted saying it that bluntly.  But it’s the truth, she thought sadly.  I don’t need him like that.  “I’m sorry, Riley.  It’s not fair to you… but you’re
right.  I don’t love you that way.  You’re my friend, and I love you like I love all my friends… but I’m not in love with you.  I kept thinking I… But I’m not.  And I will probably never need you the way you want me to.  I wish I’d had the courage to actually… but Riley, you should have said something.  You didn’t have to do this.”

Riley took a step forward, reaching for her. “Buffy…”

She moved back.  “How long would you have kept doing this if I hadn’t found out?”  But she shook her head when he opened his mouth.  “No, I guess I don’t want to know after all.  Funny… I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with a way to tell you without hurting you.  I wanted us to still be friends, if we could.  Now I’m not sure we can.  I trusted you, Riley.  But I guess it’s only fair if I can’t now because you don’t trust me, either.”  Buffy turned away from him.

“But I do, Buffy!  I only kept it…”

“No, you really don’t,” Buffy replied as gently as she could.  “If you trusted me… it never would have come to this.  And if you don’t see that, then maybe I’m not the only one who isn’t really in love.”  She faced the deep shadows in the alley, wishing she could make out the platinum glow of Spike’s hair.  She knew he was still there; her vampire tinglies hadn’t gone away, and he was a lot closer and stronger than the vamps inside.  “Spike,” she called, and could not keep her sadness or exhaustion from her voice.  “Spike, would you walk home with me, please?”

“Spike?” Riley growled behind her.  “What’s he doing here?”

“He brought me.” As Spike emerged from the darkness, she gave him a tired smile she knew didn’t reach her eyes.  “You don’t mind, do you?”

“‘Course not.”  He tilted his head, nodding for her to precede him again.

She was emotionally drained and paying attention to little else.  She was therefore taken by surprise when Riley grabbed her arm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.  She was even more surprised by Spike’s snarl, but apparently not as much as Spike himself was, if his expression was anything to go by.  “Let me go, Riley,” she demanded in her iciest tone.

He ignored her.  “Buffy… you’re here with Spike? What was all that about vamps and not being able to trust them?” His words were clearly meant to sting.

But they didn’t.  Buffy yanked her arm away, using more force than was really warranted.  “Okay, first, I said I couldn’t trust you anymore… and trust is a two way street even for friends, never mind couples.  Second, you were the one who let me be able to trust Spike… at least in part.”

Riley just gaped at her.  “What?”

She poked him in the sternum with her index finger, hard enough to make him wince.  “You put the chip in his head.  If you hadn’t, we would have kept fighting until one of us killed the other, and I would never have had an opportunity to know him… or discover that I could trust him.  Spike has always dealt straight with me, no matter how much he hated me, and once I trusted him, he’s never given me a reason not to.”

With that, she walked away, leaving both Spike and Riley staring after her in something like shock.

After only a few moments, Spike caught up to her and matched her pace, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.  They had nearly reached Revello Drive when Spike broke the silence.  “What you said to Finn back there… must have been hard.”  His voice was full of forced indifference.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  As if feeling her sidelong gaze, he looked up at the sky, then down at the sidewalk, anywhere but at her.  She gave another sad smile.  “Yeah, well, sometimes the truth is hard… and sometimes it’s not.”

Part of her wanted to explain how she was glad he was chipped, even though she knew he hated it, that she was happy she had the chance to get to know him… but most of her was too exhausted to open the discussion, afraid that it would lead to an argument about who would have killed who, and hurt and angry feelings.  And I just can’t deal with that right now, she thought.  I just want to pretend for a little longer.

Then they reached the house.  As Spike was turning to go, leaving her on the porch, Buffy realized she didn’t want to be alone just yet – she didn’t want Spike to go.  Reaching for something that would have him stay just a little longer, Buffy called softly, “Hey… you… you said you’d tell me what was going on in that place.”  She was tired, and there was more in her tone than the curiosity she was striving for – there was sadness and loneliness and betrayal and a definite pleading.

And she didn’t care if he heard it.

“I did, didn’t I?” Spike returned to the porch, and waited for her to unlock the door.  The resigned look on his face told her that she really wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

***
There’s a nest like that nearly every city with enough vampires, Spike had said.  “Because there are always people who want the thrill of playin’ with death and are willin’ to pay well for it.  So some enterprisin’ vamp gets together some of his friends and puts them to work.  They get some blood from a willin’ victim and some of his hard-earned cash, too, and the mark gets the thrill of cheatin’ death.  Everyone’s happy… until the night the vamp takes too much.”

Of course, the vamps were gone from their nest by the time she’d rounded up Giles and Willow and Xander at the Magic Box the next morning.

It pissed her off, and her anger only grew when Giles admitted he’d heard of places like this.  Anya hadn’t helped any with her description of hot and cold running blood.

“You knew about this?” Buffy asked, and couldn’t help the hint of accusation in her tone.  If Giles had known – if he had told me… What? You could have still been happy with Riley?  You haven’t been happy with Riley for a while.  It’s just now you know you weren’t the only one keeping secrets.

Giles gestured with his glasses.  “I haven’t seen it since… my Ripper days,” he admitted softly.  “I’d no idea there was such a nest in Sunnydale.”  Thoughtfully, he bit down on one earpiece.  “And even if I had, I might not have said anything.”

“What? Why not?” Buffy paused in the act of opening the weapons chest and looked over her shoulder, surprise painting her features.

He was a bit irritated by her question; she could hear it in the way his tone hardened.  “Your energies are perhaps better focused on a less ambiguous evil… such as Glory?  These people are willing victims.”

Buffy relented – he was reminding her that she had an additional duty to protect Dawn.  “I know.  But they’re vampires.  I’m the Vampire Slayer, and I need a good slay.”

And if she’d been thinking about it, she would have expected the nest to be empty when the four of them arrived.  But she wasn’t, and it was.  She stomped down from the upstairs, surly at being deprived of her slaying satisfaction.

“Buffy, however did you discover this place?” Giles was looking around the littered room with no small disgust.  “Did you come across it while on patrol somehow?  I can’t think that any informant would willingly point you here…”

She tucked her extra stakes back into her satchel.  “Spike.”

She was surprised by the looks of astonishment and disbelief that flashed over Giles and Xander’s faces; twin expressions of distaste.

“Spike?” Xander glanced around the room, as if he thought the vamp in question was about to pop out of the shadows.  “Why would he spill on a place like this?  I mean, whatever happened to good old vampire solidarity?”

“I must agree, Buffy.” Giles was already cleaning the lenses of his glasses.  “What possible motive could he have for telling you?”

“He had what he thought was a good reason,” she replied, staring down at a still warm kerosene heater.  How tempted am I to kick the damn thing over and let this place burn? So. Very. Tempted.  “And really, he wasn’t wrong.” She could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t look up.

Willow was the first to break the heavy silence that followed Buffy’s last statement.  “Okay, so, no vampires to slay here.  That doesn’t mean you won’t catch them some other time.  Right?”

Buffy looked up at that and nodded.  “Right.”

“So, let’s go back to the Magic Box and do some research until it’s time for class.”

Predictably, Xander groaned.  “Research? Oh, no, c’mon, Wills.  My eyeballs are bleeding already!”

Completely without sympathy, Willow pushed Xander toward the door.  “If they’re already bleeding, we’ll make sure they bleed for a good cause,” she said, in that strange blend of teasing and resolve she’d perfected.  “Glory isn’t going to find out about herself…”

As soon as they were out the door, Buffy said, “I know what you want to ask, Giles, but could we do it somewhere less… stench-y?  It’s not quite as bad as when the vampires were all here, but my nose is about to leave with no forwarding address.”

Giles smiled.  “Yes, well, I suspect mine is about ready to do the same.”  He motioned her to the door, and they stepped out into the sunlight.

Buffy was impressed that Giles managed to restrain his curiosity until they were in the back room of the Magic Box.  “So, why would Spike take you to a nest like that?” he asked mildly, taking off his glasses.  Instead of cleaning them, he simply held them in his hand.

Buffy paced between the vaulting horse and the far wall, and it was a long moment before she answered.  “Riley.  Riley was there.  One of the vampires was biting him.”

“Oh, dear Lord.  How did… I mean, is that… oh, good Lord.”

She snorted.  “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, too.”

So he took you there to… kindle some… bad feelings between you and Riley?”

Buffy glared at him so fiercely that he had to look away.  “Yeah, because the fact that Riley was there willingly wouldn’t have done it on its own,” she retorted with far more bitterness than she actually felt.  “No,” and she went on in a much softer tone.  “I honestly think that he just wanted me to know what Riley was doing.  No ulterior motives, as hard as that might be for you to believe.”  Realizing that there were words on her tongue that she wasn’t nearly ready to say, she shook her head and grabbed her satchel.  “I’m gonna check on Riley, just to make sure he’s okay… ready for the ass-kicking I’m so gonna give him.”

“Buffy… after this… I mean, far be it from me to tell you… but surely…”

She stopped, her hand on the still-closed door into the shop proper.  “No, Giles,” she whispered.  “I’m not… I can’t… I don’t think we could…. but even after all this, I still want him to be my friend, if he’s willing.”  She glanced over her shoulder, and knew her feelings were plain on her face from the way his expression softened.  “I definitely own some of the blame for this, though.”  Too quickly, she turned away and opened the door.  “Catch you later.”

But Riley did not open his door to her knock or soft call, and she had left her key at home… not that it felt right to use that key to get in; it felt less right than it ever had.  After a little while, she walked away, trying to ignore the way her stomach kept churning in dread.

***
Knowing Finn as he did, Spike expected him to show up at the crypt any time, and resigned himself to a sleepless day, just to avoid getting staked as he slept.

But as the day wore on and the wanker didn’t show, Spike found himself drifting off in his chair.  After all, he thought, propping his head up on one fist, didn’t get a lot of sleep yesterday…Could head down below for a bit of kip.  Then he shook his head at the thought.  Be damned if I’ll let White Bread think I’m hidin’ from him.

When dusk crept in, he was still awake, and starting to consider an option he didn’t much care for.  Wouldn’t have taken him all this time to try to make up with the Slayer.  ‘Least, I hope she wouldn’t take him back… an’ from what she said last night, maybe she isn’t in love with him anyway.  The very thought gave him a shiver of satisfaction that he couldn’t deny or explain.  No, he concluded, frowning, if Captain America hasn’t shown up here breathin’ fire, he’s either too drained to put in his appearance or he’s dead.  And if he’s dead, he’s sure not going to stay that way.

A few months ago, he would have laughed his arse off at the thought of the dependably self-righteous git joining the ranks of the undead.  In fact, he was about ready to start snickering at the irony when the Slayer’s words popped into his head.

“To kill someone I care about?”  There was an else in her words; Spike could hear it loud and clear, though she’d never said it aloud.  She’d had to send bloody Angelus to Hell, and the way she’d cared about him… well, the girl probably had all kinds of scars.

She really doesn’t need to deal with Finn on top of everything else.  He was startled at the thought, and quickly amended it.  Besides, it’s about time I get some back at the bastard for what he and the other soldier boys did to me with this bloody chip.  Satisfied, because he refused to think about why he wanted to spare the Slayer pain, and convinced that he didn’t have to worry about wood making a sudden appearance in his chest if he dozed off, Spike closed his eyes.

***
Buffy was officially worried.

Actually, no, she thought, striding swiftly through the sixth cemetery of her patrol.  I went way past worried at last night when Riley didn’t answer his phone.  I think I’ve wandered into frantic… with a side of humongous guilt.

Because she knew the drill.  In Sunnydale, anyone who had been missing for this long wasn’t ever going to be seen again.

At least… not alive.

Because he’s been turned.  If he hasn’t gotten in touch with me, with us by now… it’s because he’s been turned.

Even though she’d been in love with Angel, even though she was still trying to deal with what she felt for Spike… the thought of Riley as a vampire touched off those feelings that she normally held for the vampires she hunted; disgust and distaste, cool and impersonal – almost too emotionless to be called hatred – and the certainty that they needed to be staked for the greater good. 

Somehow, between taking care of her mother at the hospital during the day and patrolling and taking care of Dawn at night, she’d managed to avoid having to talk to her friends about what had her so worried.  And that was good, too, because it kept her from really dwelling on it every minute.  Yeah, she thought grimly, I’ve only been thinking about it every other minute instead.

Weird as it seemed, it felt like she’d already done her grieving – that she’d mourned for Riley and their relationship before it had actually ended… before he’d even died. 

And maybe, somewhere beneath all her guilt was the distress that it had worked out like this, the sorrow that she had to kill someone else she cared about… but there wasn’t anything more than that.  At least… not right now.  Maybe later she’d be able to get past that and do some honest grieving.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to do her duty.

She had escaped the Magic Box as soon as dusk had fallen, her only excuse that she was eager to get out on patrol.  She didn’t think Giles had bought her act, though.

I wish Spike had been at his crypt, she thought almost wistfully, and really wasn’t surprised at having that thought at all.  The past couple of days, she had wanted to be around Spike more and more.  But he hadn’t been – around, that is.  He’d even missed their patrol last night, and she couldn’t think about that, because she didn’t want to deal with something happening to Spike as well.  God, she thought, quickening her pace through the last few headstones, I just couldn’t take that, too…

The few fresh graves she’d crossed had been neatly raked.  She hadn’t seen any evidence of the ground having been disturbed, especially by anything crawling out from underneath.

She headed into the general vicinity of the nest Spike had shown her.  I hope I can find him before he rises… I don’t want him to have killed anyone.  For a moment, she closed her eyes and let her regret fill her.  I’m so sorry it had to be this way, Riley.

That was when she felt the vampire tinglies run down the back of her neck, screaming the presence of the undead.  An instant later, she heard a crash, loud and clear.  Moving even faster, she tried to focus on where she thought the sound was coming from.

Then she was there, a street or two away from the abandoned building she and Spike had visited, and so was Riley. 

Moonlight illuminated the end of the alley where it widened in the space between the buildings.  Even though she’d expected it, Buffy’s heart still sank at the sight of Riley’s glowing yellow eyes, the fangs and ridges that turned his wholesome features into a menacing mask. 

She tightened her grip on her stake and prepared to fight.  In the space between one heartbeat and the next, she flashed back to fighting Angelus, and how he’d used Angel’s knowledge against her.  So not looking forward to that, she thought, then steadied herself to take that necessary
step…

And watched in amazement as Riley went flying into the wall of the building directly across from her.  Glad she was hidden in the shadows, she wondered what would be strong enough to take on a vampire, even a fledgling… and if she needed more weapons.

Then another figure stepped into the moonlight, and Buffy sagged in relief at the blinding flash of white crowning it.  Spike.

***
Riley Finn didn’t know it, but he was being toyed with.

Searching the alleyways and deserted buildings that riddled Sunnydale had been a daunting task, but luckily, Spike had found Riley’s body not too far away from the now-abandoned nest, tucked in an unused dumpster.  From the numerous puncture marks in his arms and legs, it appeared that every vamp in the nest had taken a turn at feeding from him.

The moment Finn opened his eyes – ridges forming as he did – he was greeted with the hardest blow Spike could possibly deliver.  Spike watched with unholy glee as the wanker’s head snapped around, cracking hard against the brick wall of the building behind him.

“Bloody hell, that felt good.”  He straightened up, smirking down at Captain Cardboard where he lay stunned.  “Bloke could get used to that.”  He shook out his hand and flexed his fingers a couple times.  “Let me do it again.”  He pulled the fledgling upright and leaned him against the wall.  “Stay right there,” he ordered, patting Finn’s cheek more than a little patronizingly.  Finn kind of lolled against the bricks until Spike drove his fist into his stomach.  He doubled over with a groan, only to be met with Spike’s upthrust knee.

Finn ended up sprawled on the pavement.  Spike surveyed him with satisfaction.  “Tables are turned now, aren’t they, you bastard?  The bloody chip you shoved up my brain ain’t protectin’ you any more, is it?  Time for Spike to get a little payback.”  He dragged the other to his feet once more, only to have him pull away.

“Not a… fair… fight,” Riley coughed, and wiped away the blood trickling slowly from his mouth.

Grinning, Spike bounced on the balls of his feet.  “You plannin’ to fight back?  Good on you, mate.  Would hate to think you were just gonna take it.  Tell you what – I’ll even let you win for a minute or two.”  He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers, the gesture universal for ‘bring it on’.

Finn’s punch rocked him back a step, but didn’t knock away his grin.  And for the next couple of minutes, he absorbed blow after blow, watching Riley’s overconfidence grow.  At last, he dodged one of the other vampire’s haymakers and grabbed his arm.  “Time’s up,” he said, and flung Finn into a wall hard enough to make him recoil from the impact.

Just then, he felt the familiar shiver on the back of his neck that signaled the Slayer was approaching.

Regaining his feet, the fledgling rubbed the back of his own neck.  “Well, that’s cool.  That means Buffy’s on her way, doesn’t it?” Then he grinned around his fangs.  “Hey, I’m all undead and evil now.  That means she’s finally gonna want me more than you.”  He took a step forward.  “I mean, apparently all it takes to win her heart is to have one that doesn’t beat.”

Spike frowned, even as the prickling sensation heightened.  “What are you on about?”

Finn laughed nastily.  “The Master… Angel… Dracula… you… c’mon, it’s obvious!  She’s got an undead fetish.  Now, I can play the part, too.”  With a lascivious lick of his lips, he went on, “And I’m not neutered either, Hostile 17.  I can see how much she really likes getting bitten… and just how sweet she tastes as I drain her dry.”

Where the rage came from, Spike had no idea.  He just knew he had to hit the wanker as hard as possible for spewing such filth.  So he did, and still wasn’t satisfied, even as Finn flew across the alley.  He stalked after him, slipping into his vamp face as he did.  “Fair fight’s over,” he snarled, and pulled out a stake.  Moving at full speed, almost too fast for the eye to follow, he struck, long before Finn was even aware of what was happening.

The stunned look he wore as he crumbled to dust nearly assuaged the burning anger.  “Pillock,” he muttered, and kicked at the ashes, conveying in that one word all his contempt.  “Just glad the Slayer didn’t hear that rubbish.”  The mere thought of what Finn had said made Spike wish he was whole once more… just so he could stake him again.

“Spike?”

He whirled around, having forgotten about the Slayer’s approach.  “Slayer? I was…”

But she was looking at the pile of dust that had been her boyfriend, and he stopped, waiting for her to say something.  For a long moment, she just stared down, and finally, a slight breeze swirled the dust away.  As it did, the Slayer sighed and glanced up at him.  Her eyes were dry, but her face was filled with pain. “I…”

“Slayer,” he growled, “if you say it’s your fault, so help me, I’ll…” He suddenly paused, and she arched one eyebrow at him.  “Well, I’ll think of something that doesn’t hurt me more than you,” he finished lamely.

Her mouth quirked in a tiny grin that disappeared within seconds.  “It still feels like it’s my fault, though,” she said quietly, and turned away.

“What, ‘cause you introduced him to what lurks beyond the streetlamps?” Spike snorted.  “He was in the Initiative, pet.  An’ he was with you, helpin’ you for a long time.  If he didn’t know what he was gettin’ into, he was an idiot.  An’ you sure aren’t to blame because he was an insecure wanker, either.  He was that all on his own.”

Buffy was silent for so long that he began wondering just what was going on inside her head.  At last, she met his eyes and smiled – the same half-smile she’d given him at the Bronze only a few weeks ago.  “I’m glad you… God, it sounds so bad, but… I’m not sure I could have…”

He reached out, laid his hand on her shoulder.  “You could have, pet,” he said softly.  “You know you could.  But there’s nothing wrong with wantin’ to save yourself pain.  He certainly wasn’t listenin’ to you the other night, but…” He stopped short and dropped her gaze, unwilling to admit those particular words aloud.

Then her warm hand covered his, as it had that night in her backyard, and she smiled at him – a real, full smile.  “Thank you.”

And that she squeezed his hand before finally relinquishing it, that she seemed reluctant to let him go… Well, all at once, it wasn’t so hard to understand his sudden rush of affection for the Slayer.