Disclaimer: We own no part of BtVS or AtS and write only for fun and not financial gain. No copyright infringement intended.





Chapter One:


“Well that was a bloody doddle and a piece of piss,” Spike said as he stepped out of the darker part of the cave, kicking one detached demon head across the cave floor and clutching another in his hand.

He tossed the head, went forward a few paces, and then dropped to his knees in exhaustion. He resisted the urge to lean against the wet and slimy cave wall next to him. If only that was the last test. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on. The smell of seared flesh from the burns on his torso was enough to make him gag, and he was sure that more than a few of his ribs were cracked.

Nevertheless, he would go on and he would pass all the tests. One thought kept him determined. Buffy. In utter desperation, Spike had traveled across the globe searching for a way to make things right. He was glad that his search had taken him so far away from her, where he couldn’t hurt her. There had been no doubt in his mind that what he sought to do was possible. It had been done once before — even if it had been a curse — and he was bound and determined to have it done to him. He made the rounds and finally ended up in Africa in a stinking, fungus-infested cave. It never occurred to him that he could turn back. No, he’d fight for what she needed or dust while trying.

He sneered at the glowing green eyes on the other side of the cave, hiding in the dark and out of reach.

Sniffing defiantly, he asked, “Got any more ruddy tests, ya ponce? I'll take anything you throw at me.” Spike leaned back, tilted his head and smirked, using the tried and true method of psyching out his opponent. “If it'll get me what I need to take care of the Slayer, give her what's coming to her," he said, glancing down, unable to look the demon in the eyes as he thought about her. "You just bring it on. Bring on the whole---"

What was that sound? He scanned the area, trying to see what was crunching, hissing and crackling on the ground. The area grew darker and appeared to be a shifting black sea. Bugs? He rose up higher on his knees. Spike had no idea why the demon thought bugs would be a test. They began to cover his body and while it tickled, he wasn’t exactly shivering in his boots.

One of the little buggers went up his nose as they covered his face. He could feel it moving around inside, and now he was just pissed off. Spike was covered in them. He growled, trying to keep his teeth clenched, but a few of them forced their way in and the growl turned into a frustrated scream.


*~*~*~*


Buffy’s head hurt. The deep pit of despair in her stomach increased as Giles continued to speak. She could detect the weariness in his voice. She stayed behind the wall and out of Willow’s sight while the deranged and magically souped-up witch goaded Giles. However, when the Watcher started talking about caring and losing people, Buffy stepped into the gaping crack in the wall.

The Magic Box would never be the same. Acrid smoke rose around Willow as books and other debris smoldered and burned. Poor Giles; all those books, gone. And Anya—she would have a heart attack when she saw her retail dreams destroyed and reduced to rubble.

Finding it difficult to look at Willow, Buffy wondered how much of her friend was left in that dark and veiny shell. Willow’s eyes were huge black pools of emptiness, and all wrong. If there were just some way to get her back, Buffy would do it. She knew what it was like to grieve for someone she loved and she’d gone through the angry stage when her mother had died, wanting to blame everyone. Willow had gone too far with threatening Dawn. There was still hope, because she hadn’t killed Jonathan or Andrew yet. One thing Giles could do well was talk, and if anyone could get through to Willow with reason, it would be the Watcher.

Instinctively, Buffy stood taller, ready for action, when Giles said, “I wonder what Tara would say about that?”

Those empty eyes narrowed slightly and Buffy knew that he’d pushed too far. Willow said, “You can ask her yourself.”

Buffy could see the arcs of electricity shooting from Willow’s hands, but she was able to jump and push Giles out of the way of the falling upper deck just in time. They landed roughly on the hard floor as bookcases, metal and wood came crashing down behind them, leaving a thin veil of dust rising in the air.

Buffy looked up quickly, keeping her eyes on Willow and trying to anticipate her next move.

Willow hadn’t budged from her position and in a flat tone, she told Buffy, “You’re always saving everyone; it’s kind of pesky.”


*~*~*~*


Spike had nothing left. With his back against the floor, he stayed perfectly still, every fiber of his being—inside and out—in terrible pain. He couldn’t give up, but any more trials and he didn’t think he would make it. The light filtering through his eyelids blacked out then came back and he heard the crunching of large feet. He slowly opened his eyes, dreading what he’d see next. The cave demon stood over him, his iridescent green eyes glaring down on Spike.

The resonating voice said, “You have endured the required trials.”

Spike fought the urge to relax. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet, and being that the creature was a demon, he didn’t have too much hope that it would hold up its end of the bargain.

Weakly, Spike said, “Bloody right I have.” With some effort, he pushed himself up and glowered at the creature. “So give me what I want. Make me what I was… so Buffy can get what she deserves.”

“Very well,” it said, its eyes glowing brighter as it reached out with a gnarled, roughened limb. “We will return your soul.”

*~*~*~*

Buffy cringed when the witch bent down and reached into the fire by her feet. Instantly Buffy thought of Spike. No matter what they were going through personally, she had begun to rely on him in battle and right about now he’d be really useful. It was going to take time for her to get used to him not having her back. If anyone could fight his way out of this situation, it was Spike. She half expected to see him jump out and catch Willow by surprise. In fact, she longed to see him.

Willow glared at her and moved the ball of fire from one hand to the other and back. “You’re thinking about Spike?” she asked incredulously. “Now that is pathetic. You both are, really. The lovesick freak of a vampire and the twisted slayer.” Willow glanced behind her and then fixed her glare on Buffy while she placed her free hand over the ball of fire. “Spike should go back to a time when he was killing slayers, not doing them—and you! You should go back to the grave where I should have left you to begin with!”

A blue arc of electricity covered the top of the ball of flames. Willow blew on it and threw it up in the air where it burst into tiny particles. Confused, Buffy watched it with furrowed brows and then everything went black.

One minute Buffy was next to him and then she was not. Giles stared at Willow in horror at what she’d done. His mind reeled with the possibilities of where his slayer could be. Had Willow just sent her back to the grave that she’d been forced to claw her way out of eight months ago? Was she alive in that grave or was it too late for Buffy? He tried to get up, but the pain shooting up his back wouldn’t allow for it.

“There,” Willow said with satisfaction. “I thought she’d never disappear. My will has been done and now I have you all to myself.”

“What have you done with Buffy?” he managed to ask as he sat up.

Willow sighed and tilted her head slightly. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore. I’ve put her out of her misery and back into the grave.” Giles tried to stand up, his eyes wide with terror, as Willow picked up another ball of fire. “Now it’s time to take care of Jonathan and that other one with this. It'll find them. It'll bury them. Along with anyone helping those Dead Men Walking.”

She moved her hand over the flaming ball before tossing it up. It tore through the ceiling, leaving a gapping hole and disappeared into the star-filled night.

“You have to stop this, Willow. We need to get Buffy back.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Willow said, shaking her head. She pointed at Giles and as she lifted her hand up, he floated until he hit the ceiling. “You're such a hypocrite. Waltzing in here with your borrowed magicks. So you can tell me what? Magic's bad? Behave? Be a good girl?” She chuckled. “Well, I ... I don't think you're in any position to be telling me what to do.”

Giles groaned in pain.

Willow scowled at him. “I used to think you had all the answers. That I had so much to learn from you.”

“Willow…”

With one gestured from her, Giles dropped to the floor. He glared at her and thought about the fireball on its way to destroy Jonathan and Andrew. Dawn and Xander were with them and they would be killed too. So much death. He had to save them. Mustering all the strength that he had left, he called on his borrowed magic and said, “Insurso!”

Stumbling back from the green arch of magical energy, Willow scowled and after catching her breath, she said, “That was rude!”

“Willow, you need to stop.” He got to his knees.

“What I need…” She surged forward and grabbed Giles by the shirt. “…is a little pick me up.”

Giles gasped in pain as the power left him and flowed into Willow. She stumbled back and fell against the counter, holding her head.

“It's incredible.” She panted, a small smile on her lips. “I mean, I am so juiced. It's like no mortal person has ... ever had ... this much power. It's like I'm connected to everything. I can feel – it feels like – I ... I can feel...” The smile faded. “...Everyone. Oh, my God. All the emotion. All the pain. No, it, it's just too much.”

“You can stop this.”

“Yes. I have to stop this – the poor bastards. All this suffering has to end.”

She rose up into the air as magic began to swirl around her. Lightning flashed and then she was gone.

“No,” Giles groaned, just before he passed out.


*~*~*~*

The demon's claws dug into Spike’s skin as it slapped him across the chest and pushed against his burns. The pain was excruciating, but it got even worse when Spike’s chest began to glow bright yellow. It was as if someone were pulling his lungs through his ribcage and stuffing molten lava in their place.

Spike’s head flew back and he screamed in agony, wondering if he’d go blind as his eyeballs seemed to be burning out of their sockets. His demon instantly tried to reject what was happening, raging inside him, tearing at his flesh.

He saw his first kill, his mother, the family with the three young children, the bride about to say her vows. So many. Then there was a flash of light followed by many more flashes of light and the roar of a subway car.

The memory was so vivid; he could feel the vibration under his knees and the crack of her neck as he twisted her head in his hands. He felt the dead weight of the slayer under his thighs, even as so many other terrible deaths flashed before his eyes. He stared wildly from side to side. Where was the cave? The demon? He let his eyes drop to his hands and stifled a scream as he saw that they were still clutching her head. He jerked his hands away and grabbed his own instead as the bright lights stayed steady.

There was no logic to it. None of it made sense. He ran his left hand over his face, felt the eyebrow piercing, and frowned. He peered down, and she was still there. Nikki Wood: dead with a broken neck. He’d done it. He’d killed her. How could this be? It was a memory – a hideous, bloody intense memory – but that’s what it could be. Spike got off her, but fell to his knees, the weight of guilt and dread and unease too heavy to allow him to stay on his feet in the fast moving car.

He was evil! He’d done so many terrible things. He looked around and shook his head, trying to clear it. Where was the cave? Buffy!

Oh, God. Buffy. There’s no way she can ever love me. So much death, blood, evil.

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his body as more and more memories assailed him. Terrified faces, screams of agony; person after person, pleading for their lives. And in almost every case, he was smirking, reveling in their fear and pain and hoping that they’d try to run so he could play cat and mouse with them.

Suddenly, he was lying flat on his back. He rolled over and realized that he was still beside the dead slayer; the slayer that he’d killed over twenty years ago.

The soul! It had to come out. The guilt, the memories were going to crush him. He ripped at the pin-covered vest until it tore in half and then he grabbed at his chest, scratching and clawing. If he could just tear his ribcage open, the soul might just float right out.

It vaguely registered that the train had stopped. The hiss of the doors opening was like the jaws of hell opening wide, trying to pull him in. He sat up, screamed and shouted, “No!” The doors slid closed and then the train was moving again. More and more images from his past came to him. He was reliving every death in perfect detail.

If this was hell, he knew that he deserved it. He glanced at the dead slayer, but quickly turned away and moaned as the voices started accusing him again. His victims pointed at him, swirling around each other, crowding his mind and vision.

The burning pain clinging to his chest—his head—his eyes, it wouldn’t go away. Spike slumped back down until he was lying on the dirty floor of the car again, and his arm came into contact with the still warm slayer. He sat up and shuffled away from her, shaking his head, his breath coming in ragged unnecessary gasps. No relief for the wicked in hell, he thought. It was all too much for him. His eyes rolled back in his head and with a sigh, his world went black

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Chapter Two



Spike moaned and leaned into the gentle touch of the hand caressing his cheek.


“Buffy?” he whispered.


His head whipped to the side and his eyes flew open as that same hand slapped him.


“Who’s Buffy?”


Spike blinked quickly and squinted up at the figure looming over him.


“D-Dru? Drusilla?”


He pushed with his hands until he was sitting up on what he discovered to be a waterbed. The way it wobbled as he moved made him feel queasy.


What the hell is going on?


“Of course it’s me, my sweet William,” trilled Drusilla, as she sat next to him and caused another ripple of the bed.


Spike swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He felt wrong — everything felt wrong. He cast his eyes around his surroundings, squinting as lurid pinks and oranges clashed everywhere in the large room. Drusilla was wearing a long leopard print skirt, slashed to the thigh, and a t-shirt emblazoned with The Sex Pistols album cover – Never Mind the Bollocks. Her hair was a tangled mess of back-combed peaks.


“Am I d-dreaming?” asked Spike quietly.


Dru’s pretty face turned demonic as she frowned at him. “Who’s Buffy?” she snapped.


“What? Er…The Slayer…she’s The Slayer.”


“Ooh! Was that her name?”


Dru clapped her hands together and leapt off the bed. She returned, grinning toothily at him and swinging a soft leather coat to and fro. Spike’s eyes opened wide as he stared at it in horror. He scooted backwards across the bed until he fell off and hit the floor with a thump.


Dru giggled and her face shifted back. “You said that you liked her coat.”


“No. No. Not real. Not true.” Spike shook his head violently, eyes wild.


Dru climbed over the bed and scowled as he continued to back away, sliding along the shag pile carpet. He stared up at Drusilla.


“H-how did I get here?”


Dru sat on the bed and bounced a couple of times before peering down at him. “I carried you.” She cocked her head. “Why did you go to sleep after you killed Buffy?”


“What?” Spike grabbed his head and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Images flew through his mind of him hurling Buffy to the floor in the bathroom. Of him pinning her down. Of him… “No! I didn’t kill her! I didn’t!”


“Oh, but you did, my lovely, Spike. Killed her right and proper you did. Then you had a nap in the subway car. I found you and brought you here.”


Dru dropped the coat at Spike’s feet; he gasped and recoiled as if it were a cross.


Nikki Wood. Oh, Christ! She’s talking about Nikki Wood.


He kicked at the coat with his booted foot. “Get it away from me! What have I done?”


His vision greyed as he was assaulted by memories of his kills — hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Men, women and children.


Oh, shite, so many children!


He curled into a ball, shuddering and trembling, his hands covering his face in a vain attempt to block out the images that were assaulting him.


Drusilla slid off the bed and knelt before him. She reached out and touched his face.


“Spike?”


He pushed her away violently. “Don’t touch me! Killer’s hands!” He held his hands out, fingers spread. “Like mine,” he added quietly.


Dru stood up and began to whine. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips and swayed slightly.


“Sweet William’s being mean, but the pixies say that he’ll be good again. Too good.”


Spike stared at her. His soul! He was burning up from the inside because of his soul! But how could it be?


I’ve just got my soul, but I’ve just killed Nikki Wood.


His mind could take no more and he zoned out as he wrapped his arms around his knees.


Dru watched him for five minutes before she walked over and prodded him with her outstretched index finger. Spike groaned but didn’t move or open his eyes. She prodded him again. Harder.


Same response.


“Boring, Spike!” grumbled Dru.


She flopped on the bed and giggled as it wobbled beneath her. She tried to rouse Spike three times before she had an idea. She bent down and kissed her lover’s head.


“I’ll be back soon. Stay there.”


She locked the door carefully behind her. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see Spike like that. But she knew what she had to do.


Wherever Spike’s mind was, it certainly wasn’t in the motel room with his body. From time to time, his position changed slightly but never moved from his place in the corner beyond the bed.


It was hours before Drusilla returned to the motel room. She had gotten distracted by the bright Christmas lights along the streets and in the window displays of the stores, and then by the thrill of the hunt, but she was back now dragging a semi-conscious young girl that she’d found hanging around the bus station.


Just what my Spike needs to get him back on his feet. Killing that nasty old slayer must have taken it out of him. Soon be right as rain again.


Dru was smiling and humming softly as she opened the door. She flicked on the light and her brows furrowed when she saw him still in the same place. He didn’t acknowledge her as she approached him.



“Spike, are you hungry? I’ve brought you some dinner – nice and fresh she is too.” Dru leaned her head to the side and listened for a moment. “Heart still beating – she’ll be easy to eat.”


Spike moaned continually and his hands alternated between scratching at his chest and his temples. Dru hesitated, unsure of what to do. Spike was normally so strong. He was the slayer of Slayers. She pulled the limp body of the girl towards Spike until her neck was level with his face. The wound where Dru had partially drained her was still open and some blood dripped onto Spike’s arm.


His features shifted and he licked at the blood. Without opening his eyes, he raised his head and sank his fangs over the bite mark and sucked nosily. The girl’s life ebbed away as he drank. As her heart beat for the final time, Spike suddenly screamed and clutched at his own chest. He became aware of his surroundings again and stared in horror at the body lying next to him.


He looked up at Drusilla. “I felt it.” His words came out as a sob.


Dru just gazed back at him; she had no idea what he meant.


“I felt it,” he repeated earnestly. “I felt her soul leave her body.” Fat tears began to roll down his cheeks.


Dru scowled. Spike was being very odd. He even smelled a little different. Maybe she’d taken too much of the girl for herself? Maybe Spike was still hungry?


“So you want another one?” she asked brightly.


“No!” Spike struggled to his feet, one hand on the wall to steady himself. “No more. Too many already.”


He shuddered as he stepped over the body and, without a backward look at Dru, he ran headlong out of the room and into the corridor. Dru laughed wildly and clapped her hands with glee. Ooh! Spike wants to play! Goodie!


She counted quickly to fifty before racing after him.



Spike had no idea where he was going. He didn’t care as long as it was as far away from that body as possible. Forgetting that he didn’t need to breathe, he panted heavily as he ran. Even though it wasn’t yet dawn, there were lots of people at large in the ‘city that never sleeps’ and he jostled several as he ran by. He ignored their angry yells. His eyes were wild as he heard every heart beating as he passed.


Got to keep going! Don’t stop!


Raw hunger still gnawed at his belly and the demon within was almost winning the battle with his soul in its need for sustenance.


What difference will one more make? The other voice in Spike’s head was soft and enticing. You need to eat – you can’t help what you are.


Spike ground to a halt at the entrance to a dark alley. Without even realizing that he had, he took a couple of steps into it and vamped out. His enhanced sight enabled him to make out the figure of a man huddled under some old blankets next to a dumpster. The man was surrounded by old bottles and food cartons that had spilled from it. As Spike watched, a couple of large rats scurried over the sleeping man’s feet and an old newspaper fluttered over the blanket.


No one would miss him…no one would ever know…


Spike licked his lips. His footfalls were catlike and soundless. As he got closer to the man, he paused and then sprang, lightning quick.


His hands reached their target and his mouth watered as the blood hit his tongue.


“Spike!” Dru’s voice rang out loud in the narrow alley. “What are you doing?” She came closer, her nose wrinkled with disgust at the stench.


Spike froze. He just stared at her, the body still held to his lips.


Awakened by Dru’s voice, the homeless man stood up. “Quit your yelling! Some people are trying to sleep!” His words were slurred by the cheap liquor he’d consumed.


Dru turned and glared at him, her yellow eyes blazing. His mouth fell open and he backed slowly away. “What are you?” He glanced at Spike who was kneeling in the filth beside the dumpster. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” he muttered as Spike’s eyes met his.


Dru leapt forward, grabbed the man’s head in both of her hands and twisted it sharply. The crack sounded like a gunshot to Spike.


“No,” he moaned pitifully.


“Shh, Spike. It’s all right. I’m here now.”


Dru bent down and gently took the still warm body of the rat from Spike’s hand.


“I’ll look after you.”


Spike watched as she threw the furry creature into the dumpster.


“Why did you do that? Why not eat him?” She inclined her head in the direction of the man she’d just killed.


“Couldn’t,” Spike whispered, shaking his head. “Can’t…”


Dru reached out to touch him but Spike shook her off. “You killed him.”


Dru looked back at the man. He looked like nothing more than a pile of rags. She had no intention of eating him. She shuddered. He would have tasted sour. The down and outs always did. She preferred her meals to be well fed and plump. But Spike just ate a rat! A rat! Rather than eat a human. No matter how rank a human was – it was nothing compared to the acrid taste of rodent!


Dru lost patience when Spike shrank from her touch once more. Eyes blazing amber, she punched Spike soundly on the chin. He collapsed with a sigh and Drusilla carried her unconscious lover back to the motel.


*~*~*~*


It soon became clear to Drusilla that keeping Spike in the motel wasn’t going to work. He never seemed to be aware of her at all and frequently screamed at the top of his voice. She needed to find somewhere else for them to live but couldn’t leave Spike alone. What if he woke up properly and ran away again?


She pulled the blankets off the bed and ripped them into strips before plaiting three strands together to make a stronger rope. She repeated this until she had four ropes of about three feet long. She lifted Spike to the bed from the corner that he always seemed to crawl to and tied him spread eagled on it. She worried that the rope wouldn’t be strong enough but it was all she had, and she hadn’t been able to get Spike to feed since he’d taken the rat.


Spike tossed his head weakly and his moans became louder – the precursor to a full bodied scream. Dru quickly stuffed a pair of her underpants in his mouth.


“I’m sorry, darling. But you have to be quiet. I’ll be back soon.”


Spike became aware of his surroundings for a moment and tugged ineffectively on his restraints. His starved body was too weak to break them and he was soon lost to his nightmare memories, simply thinking that if this was hell, then he deserved it.



Dru returned later, bubbling with excitement. “Oh, Spike. I’ve found us a lovely place and we can stay there as long as we like.”



Spike’s eyes flickered open, and he tried to spit out the fabric in his mouth. Dru rushed over and pulled the underpants free. She bent and kissed his lips but gave a feral growl as his mouth didn’t respond. When she pulled away, he licked his dry lips and spoke.


“Stake me.” His voice was as dry and cracked as his lips. “Please. I’m a bad man.”


Dru scowled at him impatiently. Why was being bad, bad? She sighed. “We’re moving somewhere new. Are you going to walk with me?”


Spike’s eyes had lost focus once more and he was trapped within his memories. Dru couldn’t risk him wriggling and screaming as she moved him across the city and so she punched him and knocked him out cold.


She gathered him up in her arms. “I’ll make you all better.”


*~*~*~*


Drusilla glanced at the door. Should she lock it? Spike was huddled in the corner where he’d scuttled once he’d regained consciousness and didn’t look like he wanted to run away but she couldn’t be sure of it. She wanted to go out to play. He was no fun anymore and she didn’t want to cut short her pleasure to come to check on him. She smiled as she slammed it shut and turned the key in the lock.


Spike could shout all that he wanted now and no one would hear him. She’d found the perfect place. A top floor loft apartment previously owned by a singer/ songwriter, and it came complete with a soundproofed room kitted out as a recording studio. The sex had been amazing and the poor man had never even felt her fangs in his throat. Dru licked her lips at the memory. She was hungry again and needed to feed.


Spike was slowly wasting away and the lack of sustenance wasn’t helping his soul in its fight to gain precedence over the demon. Spike’s mind was close to the breaking point.


Dru unlocked the door and walked slowly towards the stricken figure of her lover. She knelt next to him and shifted her face so that she could bite her wrist more easily. She held it to Spike’s dry, chapped lips. For a moment, she thought that he wouldn’t take it. That there was no hope left for him. Then, he inhaled deeply and brought his demon swiftly to the fore. His yellow eyes opened and he weakly clung onto her arm as he sucked the sluggish blood out of her.


He drank until Drusilla forcibly pushed him away. “Enough now, Spike!”


He growled but didn’t resist and his face slowly faded back to human. Dru couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. She couldn’t bear to see those blue eyes so tormented. He sighed deeply.


“Thanks, love.”


He fell into the first dreamless, visionless sleep in weeks. The blood went to work at healing the physical wounds where he’d clawed desperately at his chest in a vain attempt to tear the soul out, and where he'd scratched at his temples to rid himself of the demon’s thoughts. It also began to heal the mental wounds; it began to give him the strength to carry the burden that was his soul.

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Chapter Three

Los Angeles, California, January 16, 1981

Thirty-eight months was a long time to be stuck in the past, but Spike had adapted and made the most of it.

He consulted the slip of scrap paper that he held near the steering wheel, made one last right turn, and then lowered the volume on the radio. Taking his foot off the gas pedal and rolling down his window, Spike let the DeSoto roll to a stop across the street from the address that he’d written down a few months ago.

Spike swallowed hard and drummed his fingers on the wheel. They were home but he had guessed as much, as he couldn’t think of too many places a pregnant woman would go, so near to her due date. A few of the windows glowed with light, but the curtains were drawn to keep out the chilly winter weather. He chuckled, thinking about the story Joyce had once told him about Hank having her bags packed and stuffed in the trunk of the car for two weeks before Buffy was born. He would bet that they were in the tan sedan parked in the driveway right now.

He’d been doing a lot of betting since he’d left Dru in New York. It wasn’t all that exciting since he always had a sure thing, but it was a quick and easy way to make a few bucks. Money that he needed, now that he wasn’t too keen on nicking things anymore. Pig’s blood, cigarettes, a place to live and even the look-a-like DeSoto took cash.

A light went off downstairs in the Summers’ home and then a few minutes later the only light upstairs went dim. Spike had hoped to get a glimpse of Joyce; just thinking about her and knowing that she was alive put a lump in his throat. After rolling his paint-covered window half way up, he reached for the paper bag on the floor of the passenger side, pulled out the container of blood and then opened the glove compartment and took out his trusty flask.

The air was thick with the promise of rain and the lush green lawns glistened with evening dew. He had nothing better to do, so he settled down to watch the house. Spike wasn’t sure when Joyce had gone to the hospital. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be tonight, and it was very possible that she had gone in during the day, but he’d wait and see. If not, he’d come back tomorrow night and the night after that.

A dark-haired woman walked briskly down the street, her stiletto heels clicking on the pavement. Spike ducked until she passed and the footsteps faded away. She reminded him a little of Dru and he wondered what the vampire might be doing now.

Spike and Dru had been inseparable except for that time when he’d been captured and kept on that submarine, and a couple of times where they’d fought and taken a break from each other for a week here and there.

He’d left her only a few months after arriving in this time. Drusilla had been beside herself while he worked to come to terms with his soul and the fact that he was no longer in the year 2002. She’d tried over and over again to get him to eat, bringing him women, dogs, and even rats, but he’d drink only from her wrist when she offered. When he got to the point where he could accept what had happened to him, he insisted that she not bring her kills back to the apartment. She had finally stopped doing it when he started locking her out.

It annoyed Spike when she began bringing her demon lovers around. He didn’t care what or who she shagged anymore, but he didn’t need to hear or see it. Dru had tried many times to get him in bed with her again, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her; he wanted Buffy.

He had to hand it to Dru. She had been patient and done her best to help him, and he loved her for it. But, there was only so much she could take. She was disgusted with his lamenting about all the evil he’d done and even more disgusted with him when he refused to join in the fun of the hunt or take any of her offerings.

The night he left Dru, she had been having a raving fit about his newly discovered need to be good. He’d dodged cups and other breakables, and he’d finally had enough. Locking himself in the soundproof room that had been his little escape from it all, he’d been pacing, trying to talk himself into doing something, when he came face to face with Nikki’s duster, hanging from a hook on the back of the door.

Spike touched the cool, soft leather and shuddered. He hadn’t been able to put it on and didn’t know why he even kept it hanging there. He’d never asked Dru how it got there either. One day, he’d looked up from his corner and there it was.

He couldn’t continue on as he was, with Drusilla killing and trying to drag him back. No, he had to do something. Find a way to get back to Sunnydale in his own time and show his Buffy what he’d done for her. His eyes were drawn to the coat again. The only way he would make any progress would be if he got a little of himself back and took charge of the situation.

His mind made up, Spike yanked the duster down and shrugged into it. He breathed in the scent of Nikki and had to fight with himself not to take it off again. Spike threw the door open and went searching for Drusilla. She got up from the couch with a hopeful expression when she noticed the gleam of determination in his eyes.

“Is my Spike back?”

“I’ve got to go, pet.”

Drusilla moaned and swayed as she stood, holding trembling fingers to her temple. “You’re leaving me alone. Not yet.” She shook her head. “It’s all wrong.”

Spike closed his eyes and blocked out the sight of her distress. He shouldn’t hurt his sire — he’d spent most of his existence trying to avoid just that — but there was no other way. He cautiously approached her and gently held her by her shoulders.

“I’ve got no choice. You wouldn’t be happy with me as I am now, and I couldn’t stand…” He looked down, his heart aching for the days when he didn’t care about anything but her. He was there, in that time, but he couldn’t live it. Not with his soul prodding him. The memory of Brazil and her indifference as she chose to cavort with Fungus demons suddenly came to mind. He released his hold on her. “It can’t be helped. I have to go away. Listen carefully. You’ve got to stay away from Europe, but especially Prague.”

Leaning closer, he got on his toes and gently kissed her forehead. She was cunning and ruthless; she’d do fine without him. He walked to the door but paused when she pouted and asked, “Now what am I going to do for fun?”

With a sly grin, he said, “I suggest Brazil. There’s this colony of Fungus demons out that way. I’m sure you’d be quite happy there for a while.”

Drusilla hadn’t chased after him that night; he’d strolled away, only knowing that he had to head west. After slowly making his way across America, searching for anyone who could help him get back to his own time, he ended up in Los Angeles six months before Buffy was to be born.

He’d resisted the urge to look up Joyce and concentrated on finding out who might know what about time travel. As the days continued to slip by, with Spike not any closer to finding a way to get back, his curiosity had got the better of him. In two days time, the greatest slayer in two centuries would be born. The love of his life. The one person on the earth that he hadn’t wanted to hurt, but had managed to nonetheless.

A car door slammed and brought his attention back to the house across the street just as the dim light went out and the house fell completely dark. Spike sighed, downed the rest of his pig’s blood, and then started up the DeSoto. Tomorrow night, he’d be back. He spent the fifteen-minute drive to his place recalling Buffy’s face. Her image had never faded from his memory and he could clearly see her frowning at him now. He missed her.

The next night, Spike came out of his room and headed for the kitchen. His roommate, Volkov, sat at the small table, reading the newspaper. Passing as a human, the one-fourth Lister demon, had been at his cousin, the palm reader’s, place the day that Spike had walked in, looking for anyone in the community who could point him in the right direction as far as demons, witches and powerful seers went.

Volkov had quietly listened to Spike’s cautious probing and then interrupted to ask his cousin what she thought of the advert he was going to put in the paper for a new roommate. Spike saved him the trouble of paying for an ad and they’d been sharing the house peaceably ever since.

“Did you hear Carter’s State of the Union address last night?” Volkov asked.

“Nope. Was busy.”

Spike smirked at the demon, who glared at the large microwave. It was the first purchase that Spike had made for the tiny house, and Volkov insisted the thing was going to blow up the whole neighborhood. Spike had resisted the urge to inform him that in ten years just about every home in the U.S. would have one. Instead, he extolled the virtues of it and the fact that he wouldn’t have to heat his blood in the pots on the stove anymore.

The microwave pinged, he pulled out his steaming mug and took a seat opposite from his friend. “So what did Ol’ Jimmy boy have to say about the state of things?”

“He tried to keep it positive. The Union is freer and more compassionate, he says.”

Spike snorted at that and took a sip.

Volkov rustled the paper and suddenly laughed. “Leon Spinks was mugged last night. Says here the thieves got his gold teeth.”

Spike swallowed his blood and smiled. “I wonder if someone we know did it?”

*~*~*~*

Spike pulled up and parked in the same spot he’d staked out the night before, but he didn’t shut the engine down. The lights were off at the house and the sedan was missing from the driveway. He was mulling over his options when he saw the car pull into the driveway and stop. Hank got out and jogged around to the other side.

The vampire gasped when he saw Joyce. She was on the other side of the car, and he could only see the top of her shoulders and her face. Her skin glowed with health, but she looked weary; her hair was teased up and cut shorter than he’d ever seen it, ending at just above the shoulders. His chest ached and it only got worse when she came round the front of the car and he got a view of her large abdomen.

Buffy.

Knowing Joyce’s future and how it would affect her daughters, he wanted to rush over there and tell her to make sure she got regular checkups on her brain every six months. He couldn’t do that.

Spike had decided that if he was going to be stuck in this time — and it seemed to be the case — that he would preserve this time line’s future as much as he could. He would change the way he did things, but he still didn’t know what the purpose of his little shift in time was about. He’d searched for answers and when none could be found, he’d waited and hoped that someone would contact him, or that a seer might know what he was supposed to do. But there was nothing. He was trying to be very careful about what he did until he had answers.

Hank gently put his hand on the small of Joyce’s back and they slowly walked to the door, talking quietly and smiling at each other. Spike wondered what exactly had happened to split the couple up. Buffy could have benefited from having two loving parents instead of an absentee father and a mother who was doing the best she could. The door closed behind them and lights went on as they moved about the house.

Spike waited. He drank his dinner, downing the contents of his flask, and amusing himself by humming songs that hadn’t been created yet. He was planning to stay until dawn if he had to.

At three o’clock in the morning on January 19th, 1981, the lights went on in the Summers’ home. Spike had been dozing with one eye slightly open. He sat up and put the key in the ignition, though he didn’t turn the engine over. He was drumming his fingers nervously against the wheel when they calmly left the house and made their way to the car. They had to stop once while Joyce had a contraction.

Spike winced and hoped for Joyce’s sake that the pain wasn’t too bad, but the anticipation of this moment had been building for him as much as for the happy couple and he wanted them to hurry. Hank backed the car up and then took off quickly. Spike watched them from his side mirror and took note of which way they turned before he stared his own engine and switched the lights on.

*~*~*~*

Light now streamed through the blinds in the waiting room and Spike wisely sat in the farthest seat from the windows. The hospital crew had come and gone with lunch for the patients and still no news about the Summers. Spike had struck up a conversation with one of Joyce’s relatives in the waiting room when she arrived an hour after he got there. He knew that they were related when she’d asked the receptionist about Joyce’s condition. He let the lady, Sheila, believe that he was the brother of another woman who was also there to have a baby.

Worried, Spike had wondered out loud why it was taking so long. The woman had asked if it was the first baby and, when he nodded, she informed him that first babies often took their time arriving. He’d grinned and closed his eyes. It figures you’d take your time arriving. Always did want to do things your way.

Then the receptionist let Sheila know that the Summers’ baby had arrived and that it was a healthy girl. An hour later, she got up and left to take a peek at the baby. Spike desperately wanted to follow, but he didn’t want to be seen or make it obvious that he was there for Buffy. When Sheila came back in, with happy tears in her eyes, she wished Spike luck and then left the hospital.

He got up and patiently waited for a good time to slip in through the double doors. Then he cautiously went down the corridor and followed the signs until he came to a glass walled nursery. There were three babies lined up in little cart beds. Two in blue blankets and one in pink, but the pink one did not say Summers on the name card.

Taking his time, he went from room to room, listening at the doors until he heard Joyce’s sleepy voice. He didn’t stand around too long, and when he heard Buffy’s loud cries he walked away, wiping at his misty eyes.

Spike couldn’t go anywhere, as the sun was up, so he continued to roam the different wards of the hospital, crinkling his nose at the odor of antiseptic, cleaning agents and sickness. He went by the nursery a few times and, once, baby Buffy was there. He fought the urge to stand there and just stare, but he only allowed himself a small glimpse before moving on.

As darkness fell and the windows darkened, he decided to take one more peek at her before he left. He touched the glass and sighed at the peaceful sleeping baby with the distinct nose. That was his Buffy. His love. He inhaled, hoping to catch a whiff of her scent, as he’d been yearning for it since he’d gotten his soul, but the glass was in the way.

When a nurse came in, picked up one of the little boys and then left through a side door, an idea struck him. Thinking back to where he had seen it earlier in the day, he quickly headed back to the employee locker room and found a surgical outfit complete with a little green cap to go over his shock of blond hair. He took his clothes with him in a large plastic bag that he’d found near a locker.

From his vantage point in a supply closet, he watched the staff for patterns of movement. As late as it was, fewer and fewer staff roamed the quiet halls. Spike waited as Buffy was carried to Joyce and then brought back again a few minutes later. When the nurse left her to sleep with the other babies, he slipped out of his hiding place, leaving his bag of clothes there to change into when he came back.

Spike walked purposefully into the room and, keeping one eye on the glass window, he approached Buffy. He picked up her chart and made a show of looking it over while he gazed at her. She was quiet, her eyes half closed. A nurse walked by and he thought he was doomed, but she just nodded and smiled at him and kept going.

Focusing his attention on the tiny infant, he smiled at her as his vision blurred with unshed tears.

“There you are, little Buffy. Been waiting a while for you to finally get here.” His eyes got wide when she moved her arms and made a gurgling sound. “Ah, pet, you were a beautiful baby. You are a beautiful baby.”

Tentatively, he reached his hand out and touched her wrist and before he knew it, she had a firm grip on his finger.

He let out a low chuckle and looked out the glass partition to make sure he was safe to stay a little longer. “Look at that, love. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve always been strong, straight out of the womb. What a grip.” Spike sobered up and leaned closer to her. He could barely contain the love trying to burst out of his chest, but he whispered, “I’m here, Buffy, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m going to be watching over you and…” At that very moment, he made a decision. Sod the rules or what he might do to mess up the future. “I’m going to make things better for you this time around. No dying, no stupid cursed vampires to break your heart and I’m even going to try to save your mum for you. But, you have to be the Slayer. This world needs you.” He rubbed his large thumb across her tiny fingers and with his voice cracking, he told her, “I need you.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Spike’s voice adopted a wheedling tone as he smiled down at his friend.

Volkov rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right! What sort of vampire are you anyway?”

Spike’s face split into a grin – he was going to get his own way, he was sure of it. “I’m the vampire that’s not gonna snack on you while you’re sleeping. . . if you come with me.”

Volkov sighed dramatically and heaved himself up from the chair to stand next to Spike. “Ice Capades! I share a house with a vampire who likes Ice Capades!”

Spike vamped out his features and snarled. “Still scary, though!”

Volkov chuckled. “Still scary, Spike.”

Spike shifted his features back and forced a smile. It was funny how he felt the weight of his soul more acutely at some times than at others. Right now, the word ‘scary’ had triggered a pang of remorse for the people that he’d terrorized in the past.

“We’ll go in my car,” said Spike, giving Volkov a nudge with his elbow.

“Damn straight we are. This whole evening is on you. The tickets, the snacks, the works. No way am I using any of my hard earned money on this.”

“No worries.” Spike pulled out a wad of cash from his jeans pocket. “Worked hard and had a good day at the office.”

Shaking his head, Volkov walked towards the door. “Your ‘office’ is anywhere that will take your bets, preferably where liquor is available to drink. That’s really not all that hard, is it?”

Spike scowled and gave Volkov’s arm a thump as he pushed by him to get outside first. “’Tis, too. Lot of effort working out the statistics.” He tilted his head to one side as Volkov stared at him. “What?”

“I don’t think you know what a statistic is.”

“Hey! I win loads so I must be doing something right.” He grinned unashamedly.

“Hmm,” replied Volkov, not entirely convinced. “I don’t know anyone as lucky as you are.”

Spike rarely, if ever, lost. In fact the only time that Volkov had seen Spike lose was when he bet on Dancing Brave, the eventual runner up in the English Derby horserace last year. When he’d asked Spike if his bet had won, Volkov could have sworn that he’d heard Spike muttering something about forgetting the bloody stupid jockey had cost the horse the race. Volkov had thought better of asking Spike more about it as the vampire had stomped around the house in a mood for the rest of the day. He hadn’t dared to ask how much money Spike had lost.

“Good ole Coventry City,” said Spike, shoving the cash he was still holding back into his jeans pocket.

“Huh?” What was the vampire talking about now?

“Coventry City football club. In 1987 they were — uh…they won this year’s English F.A. Cup Final over Tottenham Hotspur at Wembley yesterday, three – two, and I won enough to keep me going for about three months,” replied Spike, leaning on the roof of the DeSoto and grinning broadly. “Got great odds. Don’t you just love it when the underdog wins?” Especially when you know that they do!

When the vampire was in a good mood like this, Volkov found it infectious and he grinned back as he opened the car door and got in. Spike got behind the wheel and floored the car, making the tires squeal loudly.

“Do you always have to drive like the Hounds of Hell are after you?” grumbled Volkov.

“Just don’t want to be late, is all.” Spike threw his head back and roared with laughter at the disgusted look on his friend’s face.

“You owe me one for this, big time!”

“Quit moaning. You know that you’ll love it.”

About forty-five minutes later, Spike parked the DeSoto in the already crowded lot and the pair headed over to the entrance. Spike scoured the area trying to find the Summers’ car. He was sure that they would be here to see the show tonight. He really didn’t relish the thought of coming to see it for a third consecutive night. He’d lied to Volkov about going to a club yesterday and had asked him to come tonight so that it might actually be fun, rather than painful. Spike stifled a shudder. What the hell was Buffy thinking, liking bloody Ice Capades? Mind you, she did look cute as a button when her folks took her ice-skating each week. She was getting pretty nifty on the ice.

Spike spotted a blonde ponytail bouncing several yards in front of him and his un-beating heart clenched. It was her. She was here. Dressed in Barbie Doll pink, the six-year old slayer-to-be was holding each of her parent’s hands and giggling as they kept swinging her up off her feet.

“Hurry up.” Spike caught hold of Volkov’s arm and began to make him walk more quickly to the entrance.

“Jeez. You really do want to see the show!” exclaimed Volkov. “I thought you were joking.”

Spike could see that he was seriously losing ‘cool’ points with Volkov and quickly added a lie. “Look, I’ve been shagging one of the skaters, all right? Just want to see her perform…um…her other skills.”

Volkov stopped short. “You’re screwing a human? Are you mad? Does she know?”

Spike tugged impatiently at Volkov’s arm again. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the Summers disappear inside. “What? That I’m a vamp? ‘Course not.”

“But you’re cool..."

“Look, mate. She spends the night flitting about the ice half-naked . Trust me, I feel bloody warm to her! Now come on!”

He dragged Volkov through the doorway and tapped his foot impatiently as he paid for their tickets. God! I hate paying for stuff! Not that he had much choice with his soul searing if he stole anything. He could only just cope with cheating the bookmakers with his bets, outright stealing something was just…wrong. Shit!

Spike’s good mood had returned by the time the pair was settled in their seats just four rows behind and slightly to the right of the Summers. He had a perfect view of Buffy. Her little face was flushed with excitement; her pink cheeks matched her outfit. Spike watched Hank and Joyce’s body language carefully. He wasn’t sure when they'd actually split up. He knew the year that they got divorced – 1996 – but he wasn’t sure if they had been parted for very long before then. Tonight, however, they looked like a very happy family unit. The lights dimmed in the seating areas and everyone settled down to watch the show. Everyone except Spike, whose eyes were fixed in fascination on the mini Buffy. Spike could see how much Buffy loved her father as he watched her holding onto her dad’s hand and bouncing with excitement in her seat. She’d feel his departure acutely, of that Spike had no doubt. He sighed softly. Maybe I came back in time just to watch over her – to keep her safe? He’d long ago decided that he wasn’t too worried about having to live through the same decades for the second time. Well, apart from having to listen to sodding ‘Lady in Red’ by that whining git, top the charts for weeks on end all over again.

Volkov nudged him hard in the ribs. “So, which one is it?”

“Huh?” Spike tore his attention from Buffy.

“The one that you’ve been…” Volkov let his words hang in the air.

“Um, that one,” said Spike, pointing quickly to a dark haired figure whizzing past.

“That’s a man!”

“Not him, you git, the one behind him.” Spike snorted in disgust.

“Oh!” Volkov chuckled a little. “Had me worried there, buddy.”

Spike joined in the laughter and they had trouble stopping when they were shushed loudly by a large woman sitting behind them. Spike bit the inside of his lip to keep from getting even more raucous. The last thing that he wanted was for the Summers to notice him.



*~*~*~*

Spike was surreptitiously following Joyce and Buffy around the mall three weeks later when he became aware that he wasn’t the only one paying attention to them. He leaned against the wall in the corner of the store and switched his attention from Buffy to the man that he’d noticed hovering around the pair as they wandered from store to store.

He was average height and weight, and wore clean, well cut clothes that were the standard attire for a man of his age – about forty. All in all, he did look like ‘Mr. Average White America’. What he didn’t look like was anyone to be afraid of, but something about him set Spike’s teeth on edge.

Watching him watching Buffy was beginning to creep Spike out.

Shit! Is that what I look like to others when I’m watching over them?

Spike had to admit that with the bleached hair and his black clothes that he looked a lot more threatening than old ‘Mr. Average’ over there.

He tensed as the man approached Joyce and Buffy. He would have relaxed when the man spoke to Joyce, if he hadn’t been able to see her expression when he’d ruffled Buffy’s hair with his right hand. Joyce’s smile had faltered and she’d nodded to the man and pulled Buffy away from him. Spike saw Joyce glance anxiously over her shoulder as they walked away, but the man had turned and was heading out of the store.

I’ll cut that git’s hand off! No right to touch Buffy! Sod this bloody soul! It wouldn’t be right to kill the bloke, but I sure as hell can still give him a scare.

Spike followed him for half an hour as the man wandered the mall, walking in and out of several stores, but there was nothing in the least bit suspicious in what he was doing. Spike sighed and decided to go home.

Maybe I’ll just check on Buffy once more before I go.

Using scent was useless in trying to find her in the crowded mall. In fact Spike tended to avoid using his nose at all when in contact with a large group of people since quite a lot of them didn’t smell so fresh. So Spike wandered along the upper level hoping to spot them in the walkways. He smiled and leaned on the rail when he saw them walking out of a candy store on the lower level with Buffy happily sucking on a lollipop.

Spike thought that he’d misjudged what he had seen. He just put it down to his being very over-protective of the young Buffy. Then, Spike growled low in his throat when he saw the git walking briskly along. And this time ‘Mr. Average’ was definitely following Buffy and her mom.

“Oh balls!”

Spike broke into a jog and ran to the stairs. He stared around wildly when he got to the lower level. Where had they gone?

“Thank God,” he muttered as he spotted Buffy and her mom going into a department store.

The man was still following and closing the distance between him and the Summers. When Joyce took Buffy into the changing rooms, Spike debated with himself as to whether he should just confront the man now and get him the hell away from the Summers. A quick glance around made him decide against it. The place was crowded with shoppers and he couldn’t afford to be tackled by security if ‘Mr. Average’ cut up rough.

With his un-beating heart feeling like it was trying to crawl out of his chest, Spike kept watching the three of them. He took his eyes off them for a second when a loud crash near to the counter pulled his attention away. When he glanced back, he could see no sign of the man. Joyce was buying some crockery and Buffy was…Buffy was…nowhere in sight!

Bollocks!

Spike’s eyes darted around the store.

Where the hell was she?

He caught sight of her standing in front of a cabinet displaying china animals.

Oh, thank God!

He breathed a sigh of relief that was cut short when he saw ‘Mr. Average’ walking briskly towards her.

Oh, fuck! Where’s Joyce?

Spike looked at Joyce and saw her still engrossed in her purchase. He walked quickly towards Buffy, pushing several shoppers out of the way, not heeding their complaints. Spike’s left fist clenched when he saw the man bend down and talk to Buffy.

I’ll just hit the fucker and take my chances with security.

Buffy’s tiny hand reached up to take ‘Mr. Average’s’ outstretched one. Spike growled under his breath and then was pushed violently to the side as Joyce raced past him.

“Get away from my daughter,” she yelled.

Spike staggered several steps to the right, before regaining his balance and slinking a little farther away to watch.

Joyce grabbed Buffy’s hand and got right in the face of ‘Mr. Average’. “What the hell were you doing with my child?”

Joyce’s eyes blazed with the fury of a lioness whose cub had been threatened.

The man held out his hands, palms facing her. “I was…she was lost and I was just…going to help her find her parents.”

“Well, her mother is here, now get away from us.”

A security guard walked up. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Buffy chose that moment to crumple her face and begin to cry. Spike could hardly bear to hear the sound of it, knowing how many more tears she would shed in the future. He hoped that he would be able to prevent at least some of them.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. Don’t cry,” Joyce soothed. She bent down to kiss Buffy’s brow before she looked at the guard.

“This man was about to get hold of my daughter.”

There were several gasps from the crowd of onlookers that had gathered. Spike blended in at the back and couldn’t help but smirk at ‘Mr. Average’s’ discomfort.

“I thought she was lost. I was only trying to help,” he explained. “You should keep a closer eye on your child. Do you know how dangerous it could be if she had been lost?”

Spike grudgingly had to give it to the bloke; he could think on his feet. Then Spike shuddered as he thought of how many times ‘Mr. Average’ might have been in this exact situation.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say that to me!” Joyce pushed the man on his chest.

The security guard stepped between them. “Uh, maybe we should all calm down.”

He quailed as Joyce glared at him, but then she took a stride away from the men and nodded her head. She knew that there was nothing more that she could do and Buffy was still crying loudly. She needed to care for her child and standing in the store wasn’t going to do that.

“Come on, sweetie. Shall we get some ice cream?”

Spike chuckled as Buffy’s tears stopped and she nodded her head rapidly. He watched them walk away. Joyce was quietly telling Buffy that she must never go with strangers and that there were some bad men out there.
Yeah, Spike thought sadly. She’ll see lots of every kind of bad when she gets older.

He followed ‘Mr. Average’ as he was escorted from the store despite protesting his innocence. As Spike suspected, the man headed for the parking lot. No doubt wanting to lie low for a while. Fury blazed in the vampire.

He raced down the stairs as the man took the elevator down to the lot. Luckily, the garage only had one level and Spike was waiting for him when he got out. Spike had perfected the art of walking silently and the man didn’t know that Spike was there until the vampire in full demon face, fangs glistening in the florescent lighting, tapped him lightly on his shoulder.

Spike grinned as the man screamed when he saw him and he put a hand on the car at either side of him, effectively pinning 'Mr Average' there without actually having to touch him at all.

“Wha…who…oh, God…”

Spike bent closer to the man’s face. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare come true.” He growled at full volume and the man quivered pathetically against the car.

“Please don’t hurt me. A-Anything…I’ll do anything…I have money…”

Spike smirked. “Money, eh?” He shrugged. “Well, I’ll have that, seeing as how you’re offering an’ all.”

‘Mr. Average’ fumbled in his pockets before holding out his wallet in a violently trembling hand.

Spike snatched it from him, which caused the man to shriek, and flipped it open. It held the man’s driver’s licence with his address.

“I know where you live, you perverted son of a bitch.” His voice was low. “If I ever see you hanging around malls watching little girls again, especially that one, I’ll…”

He bared his fangs and bent to the man’s neck.

“I won’t…I promise…I’ll get help….oh, sweet Jesus, please don’t kill me.”

Spike pushed himself back with his hands and grinned; this was going to be fun. He swung his fist and hit the cowering man with full vampiric strength, sending him over the roof of the car.

Spike glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was approaching before he slowly went around the car, rubbing the knuckles of his left fist with the palm of his right hand. He suffered no attack of guilt for doing it – apparently, even his soul was happy with the outcome. He sucked at his grazed knuckles as he melted into the shadows without being discovered.

Chapter Five

Volkov pushed the covers back on the bed as he swung his legs to the floor and stood up. He shoved his feet into the tartan slippers that he'd left next to the rug when he'd gotten into bed earlier, walked quietly to the window, pulled back the curtain and peered out into the darkness beyond. Looking to the east, he saw to his dismay that the sky was beginning to brighten with the coming dawn.

Spike! Where are you?

"Honey? What are you doing?"

Volkov glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"What, like you didn't mean to wake me the last five times you've done it?"

Volkov turned and walked back to the bed. He sat on the edge and ran his fingers down his girlfriend's face, before dropping a kiss on her brow.

"I'm sorry, Noreen. It's just that I'm really worried about Spike."

Noreen pushed herself up until she was sitting with her back against the headboard. "Baby, he's a vampire. I'm sure he can take care of himself. I mean, he's what? A century old?"

"Not quite," replied Volkov. "But it's almost dawn, and he's still not home."

Noreen grinned. "He's probably just gotten lucky and forgotten the time. He'll be holed up for the day and back at dusk, I'm sure."

"I wish I could believe that. He's never stayed out after dawn before." Volkov sighed. "Something's wrong. I'm sure that it is. He told me that he was going to patrol and be back around two. What if he's hurt?"

"Patrol?"

Volkov nodded. "Yes, he patrols the area and makes sure that demons aren't causing any trouble."

Noreen scowled. She'd met Spike several times since she had started dating Volkov but didn't know him all that well. "I'm a demon! Does he make sure that I don't cause trouble when I'm here?"

"I don't think so, Noreen," chuckled Volkov. "It's only the demon breeds that prey on others that he's worried about. Lister demons don't come into it. He's shared my house for years - you know that." He took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze.

She pulled her hand away. "You're only a quarter Lister. I'm all Lister demon!"

"Oh, Noreen. Trust me, Spike has no problem with you. He's just sort of taken it on himself to keep innocents safe in his part of town. He likes you."

Noreen glanced up at Volkov. "He does?"

Volkov leaned forwards and kissed his girlfriend's lips. "Sure he does. He says that you're good for me."

"He's not wrong." She smiled, adding, "So you really think that something's wrong?" when she saw Volkov glance once more at the window.

"It's just not like him."

Noreen threw back the bedclothes and got out of bed. "What are you waiting for?" she asked as she began to dress.

"Huh? What are you doing?"

"What's it look like? You're not going to be happy until you know that he's okay, so instead of staying here and worrying, we're going to look for him."

Volkov grinned. "I love you!"

Noreen batted her eyes at him. "And you can show me just how much you love me when we find Spike safe and sound." She glanced at the bed.

"Oh, baby. I will, I will." Volkov pulled her into a hug and kissed her soundly.

"Come on then. The sooner we find him the sooner we can get back to bed."

*~*~*~*

Volkov and Noreen followed the usual route of Spike's patrol. Volkov had joined the vampire on his rounds a couple of times, but he had proved useless if they came across any trouble and Spike had asked him not to come with him anymore. Volkov hoped that Spike still followed the same route.

With the sky getting ever lighter, Volkov was beginning to think that maybe Noreen had been right after all and that Spike was snuggled up with some female somewhere, when he spotted something.

"Oh, God! Don't let it be him." Even as he spoke Volkov knew that he'd found Spike.

Volkov raced into the alley. He'd seen a lump halfway down that looked suspiciously like the black leather duster that Spike never went anywhere without. Noreen ran after him.

"Spike!" Volkov knelt beside him. The vampire was lying on his side with his legs curled up to his stomach and one arm bent at an impossible angle. But his face... Volkov reached out to touch it.

"Don't!" yelled Noreen, slapping his hand away before he could touch Spike.

"What are you doing?" He glared at her.

"The stuff on his face - it's toxic."

Volkov's eyes widened and he glanced back at Spike. The vampire's face was encrusted in a foul smelling, lumpy substance. "W-what is it?"

Noreen glanced at the sky. "We haven't got time now. The sun is almost up."

"We'd better get him home," said Volkov.

"Take your coat off and wrap it around his face - you don't want that stuff to touch you."

Volkov stared up at Noreen and then glanced back at Spike. If the stuff was that bad, what effect would it have had on the vampire? He did as he was told and shrugged out of his coat before rolling Spike up in it so that it held his arms to his sides and covered his face. Volkov grunted as he lifted Spike up onto his shoulder.

He began to retrace his steps but Noreen stopped him. "We can't take him home. We need help. There's a doctor just a few blocks away - we'll go there."

"A doctor? But -"

"A demon doctor, honey," said Noreen. She looked up. "We need to hurry."

Volkov was panting for breath when they finally made it to the doctor's. He didn't know what he expected a demon doctor's office to look like but it certainly wasn't this very ordinary house. He raised an eyebrow at Noreen who smiled at him reassuringly and pushed the doorbell.

After what seemed like an age, they heard a shuffling noise and a light came on in the hallway. Volkov hitched Spike's inert body a little higher on his shoulder and wished the doctor would hurry up.

As the door began to open, Noreen quickly whispered. "He's...er...well, he's quite demony."

"Wha..."

Volkov's words trailed off as the door opened fully and he got his first glimpse of the doctor. He tried not to goggle at him but was sure that he'd failed.

The demon nodded at him and then smiled broadly when he saw Noreen.

"Noreen! How are you? How are your folks? It's been a while." The demon spoke with an Eastern European accent.

"I'm very well, Dr. Edgar, but I have a friend who's in trouble." She inclined her head towards Volkov and Spike. "I think he's been attacked by an Avilas demon."

Dr. Edgar looked at her sharply, his red eyes narrowed. "And he's still alive?"

"He's a vampire," said Volkov, feeling a little uneasy at standing on the porch with an unconscious vampire on his shoulder as his girlfriend chatted amiably with what, to all intents and purposes looked like a five-foot tall, light green lizard that walked on two legs and was dressed in a dark red satin robe.

"Even so...remarkable." Dr. Edgar stepped to the side and waved his left arm. "Bring him in. The second room on the right."

Volkov stepped past him and carried Spike into the room he'd indicated. There was a narrow examination table in the center and Volkov gently laid Spike down on it. The little doctor walked to a cupboard on the back wall and Volkov stifled a gasp as he saw the reason that he'd heard the doc approach the door. He had a long thick tail that dragged along the floor as he walked. Volkov heard a snort beside him and turned to see Noreen stifling a giggle with her hand over her mouth. She leant towards him and kissed his cheek.

"Your face is a picture," she whispered in his ear.

Before he could reply, Dr. Edgar gave them both a pair of thick latex gloves. "Put those on and help me get the coat off so I can take a good look."

Volkov was fascinated to see that the doctor's hands were more or less human in appearance. Together they gently pulled the coat free and rolled Spike so that he was on his back.

"Oh, my," said Dr. Edgar as he peered closely at Spike's face. He tutted a couple of times and then asked Noreen to turn on the light over the table. She did and the vile looking substance was brilliantly illuminated.

"Oh, crap," muttered Volkov.

The substance covered Spike's face from his hairline to half way down the bridge of his nose. His right ear was entirely covered with it whereas his left was relatively unscathed.

"What is it?" asked Volkov, his face paling as a wave of nausea hit him.

"Avilas saliva," said the doctor succinctly. "Terrible stuff. They spit it out when they are threatened in any way and it sets rock hard. Even vampires are not immune to its effects. I'm surprised that your friend here hasn't dusted." He pointed to Spike's nose and chin. "I think the only reason that he survived is that it covered only half the face. Maybe he ducked and only half the dose hit him."

"Will he be all right, Dr. Edgar?" asked Noreen.

The little demon glanced up at her. The expression on his green face was grave. "The honest answer to that, my dear, is I don't know. Removing the saliva is difficult and will take me some time. The arm will be a simple mend. The fracture isn't a difficult one to set."

"Can we help?" asked Noreen.

"By all means." The doctor smiled at her. "Firstly, we need to soak the saliva to make it more pliable. In the cupboard near the door, you'll find some swabs. Can you soak them in warm water and lay them on his face, please?"

"Sure."

A dismayed Volkov watched Noreen go to the cupboard. He felt decidedly unwell and had hoped they would have been able just to sit and wait somewhere.

"Um...what can I do?" he asked reluctantly.

Dr. Edgar chuckled. "I think you had better go to sit down for a while; you're beginning to sway."

"What? No, I'll be fine," spluttered Volkov, his face regaining a little color as he flushed with embarrassment

"Son, what's your name?" asked Dr. Edgar.

"Volkov."

"Well, Volkov. If you faint in here you will be no help at all, will you? Don't be embarrassed about it. Go and sit down. The lounge is the room directly across from this. We'll let you know how your friend is when we have finished."

"Spike," said Volkov quietly.

"I'm sorry?"

"His name is Spike," repeated Volkov. "T-Take good care of him." He blinked rapidly as he turned and walked to the door.

"I love you," whispered Noreen as he passed and he smiled weakly at her, then walked out and closed the door.

The doctor and Noreen got to work on Spike's face. The swabs were placed over the affected area and after several minutes had passed, they were able to begin to prise the softened saliva coating away from Spike's skin.

As more and more of Spike's face was revealed Noreen was beginning to wish that she'd joined her boyfriend in the lounge. The skin was burnt and blistered by the acidic matter. Dr. Edgar worked diligently, the tip of his thin forked tongue stuck out between his lips intermittently as he concentrated.

"I just hope that he had time to close his eyes before the stuff hit him," said the doctor as he began to work on the material over his eyes.

"What if he didn't?" asked Noreen.

The doctor simply shook his head and Noreen didn't dare press for an answer. But she got it soon enough when the last of the Avilas demon's saliva was removed. Spike's eyes had been open, and it was plain to see that the eyes themselves had been badly damaged.

"Oh, no," whispered Noreen when she saw them. "Will he..."

The doctor shook his head. "The damage is too severe to even hope that he will be able to see. But vampires can heal what other demons can't, so there is hope that maybe one day he will see again."

Noreen opened her mouth but closed it without saying a word. What could she say? She watched as the doctor smoothed some cream over the affected areas and gently pushed Spike's swollen eyelids closed, before wrapping them and his right ear with bandages. He then carefully realigned the fractured right arm before encasing it in a plaster cast.

"Can you go and get Volkov, my dear? We'll get Spike into the infirmary. He'll be more comfortable there when he wakes up."

"S-so he will wake up, Dr. Edgar?"

"Eventually, he will. He hasn't dusted, so he will now begin to heal."

Noreen bit her lip as she walked to get Volkov; she knew how close he was to Spike. She tapped at the door as she went into the lounge. Volkov started and spun around in his chair to face her.

"Is he..."

"He's still with us, yes."

The tone of her voice made his heart miss a beat.

"But..."

Noreen crossed the room to sit on the arm of his chair. She took his hand in hers. "I'm sorry, baby. Spike's blind."

Volkov stood up. "No! He can't be. I mean, vampires can't be blind - they're immortal - they heal!"

Noreen got up from the chair arm. "Dr. Edgar thinks that maybe one day he'll be able to see again, but his eyes were very badly damaged." Noreen shuddered when she thought of what she'd seen. She knew that if the toxin had stayed in contact much longer then his eyes would have been totally lost. "The doctor needs us to help him move Spike into his infirmary."

Volkov swallowed hard. For someone who was technically dead, Spike was so full of life. It didn't seem fair that Spike had been injured like this. He was trying to protect humans while other demons were out to harm them.

"Okay," he said. He clutched Noreen's hand as they returned to the consulting room where Spike was waiting.

Spike showed no signs of regaining consciousness as they took him to a room that housed three beds, none of which were currently occupied. Dr. Edgar indicated that they should place Spike on the bed in the corner.

"There is never direct sunlight on that bed," he explained.

By the time that Spike was settled comfortably on the bed, now naked apart from a hospital gown, Volkov was beginning to wilt. He had had very little sleep and it was starting to catch up with him.

"There is a small bedroom that you may use if you want to rest a while," offered Dr. Edgar.

Volkov glanced at Noreen, who nodded. "Thank you; we'd appreciate it," he replied.

Leaving the doctor to tend to his patient, Noreen and Volkov lay in each other's arms on the bed, willing sleep to come but sure that it would remain elusive.

"So, how do you know Dr. Edgar? And what is he?"

Noreen stiffened slightly. She loved Volkov dearly but his lack of demon blood worried her sometimes. He was more human than Lister demon and seemed almost unaware of most of the demon world around him.

"He's a freaking good doctor, that's what he is."

Volkov dropped a kiss on her neck and, despite her annoyance, a thrill of pleasure ran through her.

"I'm sorry, honey. It's just that I haven't seen what you have. My folks steered me away from the demon community. I didn't mean it as an insult. It's ju-"

Noreen kissed him.

"I know what you mean. I'm sorry for getting tetchy; it's been a long night." She kissed him again. "He's an old family friend. He's a Drazil. They are healers. As you've guessed they have to keep a fairly low profile." She grinned at Volkov. "Even cosmetics can't make them able to go out in the day like you or I can. Dr. Edgar doesn't mind though; when he hasn't got any patients to attend to he grows orchids. He practically lives in the big glasshouse in the garden."

"But he just opened the door - we could have been human."

"There are two doorbells. The smaller one, farthest away from the door lets him know that it is someone who has been before, because it's hard to spot unless you're told about it. So he knew that whoever it was, it would be a demon."

Volkov decided that it was time that he kissed her back and so pressed his lips to hers and sought comfort from her as he tried to push the anxiety about Spike to the back of his mind - at least for a little while.

Chapter Six


Spike groaned softly and shifted on the bed; the slight noise and movement brought Dr. Edgar to the bedside. The vampire had lain there without change for a month since the night that he’d been brought in. His eyes were still heavily bandaged. The doctor changed the dressings and applied more salve twice daily but he had been dismayed at the lack of repair of even the blistered skin. He’d managed to force small amounts of blood into Spike but barely enough to keep him functioning, let alone heal. If he’d given too much it had merely provoked the vampire to vomit.

Spike’s movements became stronger and Dr. Edgar sat in the chair on the left hand side of the bed while he waited to see if he would actually resurface today. The doctor was glad that neither Volkov nor Noreen was there at the moment as he was certain that Spike would be distressed by his injuries.

Spike lifted a hand towards his eyes. He started when a warm hand briefly caught his.

“Leave them be,” said Dr. Edgar.

Spike turned his head towards the voice and pushed himself up to a sitting position. He grimaced as pain knifed through his head, then licked his lips and tried to talk. His voice was low and hoarse. “Where am I?”

“Safe. Your friends, Volkov and Noreen, brought you in.”

Spike seemed to ponder that information for a moment before speaking again.

“What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember?”

Spike thought better of shaking his aching head. “Uh…not sure.” He licked his lips again and swallowed a couple of times. “Was I fighting some big blue fucker?”

Dr. Edgar couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am sure that you were. Though I don’t know what for. Avoiding the Avilas demon would have been a wiser option to take.”

“Avilas, eh? Never heard of that one before. The git had hold of a young girl. Couldn’t just let it have her, now could I?”

Despite being told by both Noreen and Volkov that Spike wasn’t the typical vampire, the doctor hadn’t truly believed them until he heard Spike say that. To go in single-handedly against one of the most lethal demons that existed was incredible. All the more when the fight wasn’t one of survival but rather a rescue attempt.

“You will have saved her life,” Dr. Edgar said softly.

“She ran off and I was doing all right against the bastard until it spat at me. Don’t remember anything after that.” Spike raised his hand once more to his bandages. “So how long have I been here? I know it’s not home by the smell. Where’s Volkov?”

“‘Here’ is my small hospital. I’m Dr. Edgar. Volkov will be back soon. He calls in every evening.”

“Every evening? Just exactly how many evenings would that be?” asked Spike. His stomach clenched as he began to realize that maybe things weren’t so good. He touched the padding over his eyes and had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Bloody hell, that hurts.

“You have been unconscious for a month. I’ve had terrible trouble trying to get you to take blood. You’ll heal much more quickly now. In fact, you had broken your arm but even on such a meager diet it has healed beautifully.”

Shit! A month!

“When do I get these things off?” Spike waved a hand at the bandages.

“Another couple of days should be sufficient.”

“Thank God. I can’t stand the thought of sitting here in the dark for too long. Be bored out of my head. My hearing seems a bit fuzzy too.” He felt the bandages over his right ear. “Will this come off then, too?”

“Yes, we will remove all of your bandages at the same time,” Dr. Edgar said. “Do you think that you can take some blood?”

“Yeah, feel bloody famished.”

Spike heard the doctor get out of the chair, the legs squeaking on the floor as he pushed it back.

“Hey, Doc,” he said quietly.

Dr. Edgar paused. “Yes?”

“Uh…so is all this because the sod gobbed on me?”

“It is. The Avilas demon uses it as its main defense.”

“Okay,” said Spike slowly. “So what does it do- this saliva?”

The doctor sat back down. “It is extremely caustic. I can only assume that you didn’t get a full dose of it, otherwise your body would have been completely destroyed. It sets hard against the skin and can burn through skin and bone unless it is removed in time.”

“Burns?” Spike said weakly. “My eyes…”

“Were saved.”

Spike smiled and let out a deep breath. “Thank God for that. Had me worried for a minute there, Doc.”

“I’m sorry, Spike,” said Dr. Edgar.

“What? Why?” Spike didn’t need to hear the reply to know what he was going to be told.

“Your eyes were severely damaged. If Volkov hadn’t found you when he had, they would have been lost completely.”

“Oh, shite,” whispered Spike. “I’m not going to be able to see, am I? Not even when the bandages come off.”

The doctor laid a hand on Spike’s arm. “No. No, you won’t. The hearing in your right ear is most probably damaged also.”

Spike moaned under his breath and shook his head, ignoring the pain that his action provoked. “I’ll heal though, right? Vampire, yeah. I can heal anything.” His voice had a tremulous edge to it.

“I’m sure that you will heal, Spike, but you need to be prepared for a long recuperation – several months at best.”

Spike turned his face away from the doctor. No way was he going to ask what the worst case scenario was.

“I’ll go and get you that blood now, shall I?”

Spike nodded mutely. He heard the shuffling sound of the doctor leaving the room and fought off the feeling of panic that the sensory deprivation was causing, trying not to think about how he might have months of this darkness to endure.

What bloody use will I be? Oh, Christ.

The smell of warm blood wafted in as the doctor returned and even before the demon had pressed the mug into his hands, Spike had given out a growl and involuntarily vamped out. He quickly changed his features back and panted as the excruciating pain from shifting bones under tender skin receded.

“Here you are, Spike. There is plenty more so drink as much as you like. Your skin is still very sore and that’s why the change hurt you so much. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“’S all right,” Spike muttered. “Didn’t mean to do it. Just when us vamps get really hungry then it happens when we smell blood.”

He drained the mug in only a couple of gulps and Dr. Edgar hoped that Spike wouldn’t end up vomiting.

Spike cocked his head on one side. “Human?” He hadn’t tasted human since he’d gotten his soul.

“I can’t…I mean I don’t…”

“It’s all right. No one was harmed. We managed to get a supply of expired blood from one of the hospitals. Volkov told me that you no longer partook, but this will help your healing powers more than pigs’ blood would.”

Spike’s mouth was watering. Even expired, the blood tasted like ambrosia. But it felt wrong to drink it. The animal blood was a penance in a way. Acquiring the taste for it was the price to pay for his past killings. But, God, this tasted good. He held out the mug in what he hoped was the general direction of the doctor.

“Can I have some more?” He’d made the decision to drink as much of the stuff as possible and then his injuries would be healed that much more rapidly.

“Of course. I’ll go and get it. But perhaps take this mug a little slower?”


*~*~*~*

It had been around three hours since Spike regained consciousness and already felt like he was going out of his mind. Deprived of his sight, Spike found that even his damaged hearing seemed to pick up on every small noise in the place. He heard people coming and going in the house and he had to fight the desire to hide. Spike felt so vulnerable sitting there. If something came in he would have no chance of defending himself. Had the doctor closed the door to his room? He couldn't remember and the thought that people could be looking in at him as they walked past freaked him out. His acute sense of smell didn’t help him relax either. The scents of various demon breeds, and once another vampire, had him close to panic.

He started and turned his face towards the noise as the door swung open. It’s been closed all the sodding time. When the familiar smell of Volkov wafted towards him, Spike almost sobbed with relief.

“Spike! You’re awake! Thank God!” cried Volkov as he rushed to Spike’s bedside.

Spike bit the inside of his mouth and willed himself not to cry like a ponce. The chair legs scraped on the floor as Volkov sat down. Spike turned his face away from his friend, all of a sudden embarrassed at his injuries.

“Dr. Edgar didn’t tell me,” continued Volkov. “But I just came right in here when I arrived. So how long have you been back in the land of the living…er…un-living…whatever.”

How the fucking hell do I know? Can’t see a bloody clock can I? But when he spoke, Spike opted for the less offensive, “I dunno. A while.”

Crap! Of course he doesn’t know! I’m so dumb. “I’m sorry,” said Volkov. He had absolutely no idea what to say. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Spike turned towards him.

“Um…” repeated Volkov. “So…I’ll just go and get Dr. Edgar.” He almost pushed the chair over in his haste.

Spike slumped down in the bed. Bollocks. Even my best mate can’t stand to be near me. Coming to terms with having his soul again had been hard but this…he just wasn’t sure that he could take this.

Volkov stopped once he was in the hall. He screwed up his face in disgust. “How could I run out on him,” he muttered, as he rubbed a hand over his face.

Dr. Edgar was standing in front of him when he opened his eyes again. “Ah, Volkov. I have good news for you. Spike is aw—”

“Awake; I know.”

“Oh,” said the doctor. “Is he in pain? Were you looking for me?”

“No,” replied Volkov, avoiding his eye. “I—I…er…I guess I panicked.” His tortured eyes lifted and met the doctor’s gaze. “I didn’t know what to say. He just looks so…small…frail…so helpless.”

Dr. Edgar guided Volkov into his study a little further down the hallway. “Take a seat for a moment.” He indicated a plush leather chair opposite his own. When they both had sat down, Dr. Edgar put his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together. He peered at Volkov as he rested his chin on his hands.

“I am worried about how Spike will react to his blindness. A vampire is ruled by its senses. They are the ultimate predator.” Dr. Edgar lifted his head and gestured with his hand to stop Volkov’s interruption before he’d even managed to say a word. “I know that Spike no longer hunts, but it is how he is made up. To be unable to see will be very difficult for him. He needs you to be there for him, Volkov.”

“I know. I know,” sighed Volkov.

“Well, I suggest that you go back in to see him and this time, even if you find it distressing, don’t leave him alone.”

“I won’t.” Volkov took a deep breath and stood up. “I won’t let him down.”

Dr. Edgar nodded wisely. “I know that you won’t. Now go and sit with your friend. I’ll be there to change the bandages in a few minutes.”

Volkov’s face paled at the thought of being there for the change of dressings. He’d managed to avoid it most of the time. His stomach wasn’t very strong and Spike’s face wasn’t a pretty sight, but he nodded and walked out of the study.

Spike heard Volkov pause outside the door. He’d heard what his friend and the doctor had said until they had gone to the study. Helpless. Spike sighed bitterly. So much for him wanting to do good and protect Buffy. Buffy! He pushed the thought from his mind. He was no use to her now.

Volkov flung the door open and marched inside before his courage failed him.

“I’m back,” he said too brightly.

“So I see.”

Both froze for a second when Spike said that. Spike could hear Volkov’s heartbeat speed up.

“Look, mate. The Doc told me the score, all right?”

Volkov flopped down in the chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault is it? I should have ducked.” The corner of Spike’s mouth twitched upwards.

“What? God, Spike…how can you…”

Spike shrugged. “What’s done’s done. No use moaning about it.” Inside Spike was terrified, but he needed his friend and was afraid that if he let Volkov know his true feelings that he wouldn’t want his vampire buddy around anymore.

“So, you’re still dating Noreen then? I can smell her on you.”

Volkov managed a chuckle. “Oh, man. That is so gross.”

They fell silent.

“Uh…Doc says that you brought me here. I didn’t know that you knew any doctors that could treat the likes of me.”

“I didn’t. Noreen did. I would have just brought you home and if I had then—”

Volkov stopped dead.

“Then my eyes would have been totally fucked,” supplied Spike. “Thanks for looking for me and for bringing me here. Doc says my eyes will heal. Just might take a while is all.” Spike dipped his head. “Sure that you want a housemate who can do sod all?” Spike felt pleased that his voice had remained even.

“Spike, sure I still want you sharing my house. How could you ever think that I wouldn’t?”

“Dunno. Just… I’m not gonna be much use, am I?” replied Spike.

“Well, if you mean at cleaning the place, then I hate to disappoint you but you’re crap at it anyway.”

Spike huffed. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yeah, you really are.”

Volkov was beginning to relax a little. Spike seemed…well, like Spike. He reached out and tentatively put his hand over Spike’s where it lay on the bed. Spike twisted his hand over and gripped Volkov’s tightly before letting it go.

“Suppose I am. Got a good excuse now though.”

Into the somber silence that followed, Dr. Edgar walked in carrying the supplies required to re-dress Spike’s eyes.

“Now, Spike,” said the doctor. “I’m here to change your bandages again. I’m afraid that now you’re awake it will probably hurt a little.”

“Just do it, okay?” said Spike, clenching his jaw in anticipation.

Volkov moved from his chair beside Spike and went to the foot of the bed to allow Dr. Edgar to get to his patient. Spike tensed several times as the doctor slowly unwound the bandages, and once muttered a word that Volkov could only guess was a curse word in England. Volkov found himself mirroring the reaction of his friend and wishing that he could do something to prevent the pain.

When the last of the bandages fell free, Volkov had to stifle a gasp at the sight of Spike’s face. The wounds seemed no better than the last time that he’d seen them, which had been in the first week after the attack.

“That good, huh?” said Spike quietly.

The bandages had held the eyelids closed but now Spike could open them. Despite all that the doctor had said, Spike had still hoped that he’d be able to see, even if blurred. The darkness remained unaltered. Oh, bollocks. He could hardly bear to blink as it felt as if shards of glass were sticking in his eyes every time that the lids moved.

He lifted his left hand and let the fingers gently trace the scars on his face. The edge of it was plain as day. The skin on his jaw and the lower half of his cheeks was perfectly smooth but the rest was covered with raised knotted scars. They felt bad but he’d been burned before and he was sure that they would disappear. The feel of his eyes worried him. He had no doubt that they looked as bad as they felt.

“The facial burns should heal in no time, especially if you take plenty of blood,” Dr. Edgar said.

“You keep saying that, Doc,” said Spike, letting his hand fall back down to the bed.

“Keep saying what?”

“Should,” Spike replied. “You never say will heal, it’s always should.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. It is just a habit of mine. Several demon species can be very resentful if the recovery time is longer than I have estimated. So now I keep it as vague as can be.”

“That’s all right then. Good to know that I shouldn’t lose my devilish good looks.”

Volkov snorted with laughter. Typical Spike. He was so vain.

“Of that I am certain,” laughed the doctor, delighted that his patient could joke about his situation.

He reapplied the salve and Spike closed his eyes as the bandages were replaced. Dr. Edgar glanced at Volkov. “I’m sure I can let you go home in a couple of days as long as Volkov, here, ensures that you stay on the human blood.”

“I will, Dr. Edgar. I’ll take good care of him.”

Although Volkov’s words should have reassured him, Spike quailed at the thought of having to be taken care of. When he’d been paralyzed after the organ had collapsed onto him, he hadn’t enjoyed being dependent on Dru and later Angel, not one little bit. He knew that Volkov would look after him much better than they did, but he hated the fact that he would be helpless.

Spike was pleased to be left alone again. He’d told Volkov that he felt tired, and it wasn’t totally untrue. This time, he listened carefully for the sound of the door being closed so he could relax as he lay down on the bed. Try as he might, his thoughts kept returning to Buffy. In his previous reality she had obviously survived for years, but he wondered if his presence back in this time could have altered reality in other ways. He had needed to check that she was okay for his own peace of mind and now he couldn’t.

He sincerely wished that he had taken another route that night and never met the Avilas demon.


*~*~*~*

Spike’s stomach churned as he waited for Volkov and Noreen to come to take him home. His eyes were un-bandaged but he tended to keep them closed, as they were still painful when he blinked. Dressing had proved a little easier than he’d feared. Nothing too complicated about the jeans and t-shirt that Volkov had brought for him the day before. He just shoved his feet into his boots and held his duster on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. Spike smiled slightly as he stroked the soft leather of his coat. Thank God that it survived the attack. Worn initially to remind him of exactly what he used to be, it now was his comforter - the thing that made him feel right somehow.

The door swung open and Spike raised his head as Volkov and Noreen walked in.

“All set?” asked Volkov.

“Yeah, I’m good to go.” Spike stood up and turned as he felt a hand on his arm, and then a kiss on his cheek.

“It will be good to have you home, Spike,” said Noreen. “Volkov’s really missed you.”

“Thanks, love,” he muttered.

She kept her hand on his arm as they made their way to the car, managing to guide Spike around hazards without him realizing it. She quietly told him the number of steps down to the sidewalk and he nodded at her gratefully.

He hesitated before walking slowly down the steps, smelling the night air for the first time in almost five weeks. It no longer seemed inviting. The smells and the sounds unnerved him more than he care to admit.

I bleeding hate this!

He didn’t realize that he’d been holding his breath until he exhaled once he was safe inside Volkov’s car.

Bleeding vampire afraid of the dark! Oh, shite!

Soon he was settled in his favorite chair, which he knew, ironically, was opposite the TV. Noreen had helped him in and then gone to the kitchen to heat some blood for him. He wasn’t remotely hungry but he was taking as much of the stuff as he could to try to kick-start his healing.

His friends stayed up with him all night, chatting and trying too hard to make him feel at home. Spike wanted to scream at them and the world that had allowed this to happen to him. Only the thought of maybe one day seeing Buffy again kept him from breaking a leg off the coffee table and ramming it into his heart.

*~*~*~*

Spike reached out for the handle to the outside door with a trembling hand. He paused before his fingers touched it, closed his eyes and took in a deep unnecessary breath.

“Come on, don’t be so bleeding pathetic.”

Jaw clenched, a muscle ticking on the left side, he reached out again. This time his fingers made it to the door handle before he froze once more. Another deep breath. Another muttered curse. He growled quietly as he finally pushed the handle down and opened the door. Two steps later, he was on the front porch, and grinned like an idiot as he stared around him. Was it really over a year since he’d stood here alone with perfect vision?

For nine months after waking in the hospital bed, Spike had existed in a world devoid of any light. He’d thought that he’d go insane in the first few weeks, but vampires are nothing if not adaptable and he soon could find his way around the house without mishap. Then, slowly, gradually, his sight had begun to return. The blurred vision gave him headaches and for a time, they disoriented him so much that he stayed only in his bedroom.

Volkov and Noreen had been great. They’d soon learned not to mollycoddle him or to run to help him if he struggled with anything. They’d encouraged Spike to go outside for walks with them when his vision had begun to clear. At the time, his vision was still much worse than it had been before he’d been turned. Spike had been tentative at first and had been happy to let Volkov hold his arm to guide him. Everything had seemed too bright, too fast. His other senses screamed at him to go back inside – where it was safe.

A car driving by brought Spike back to the present. He turned and glanced to the drive. There it was – his beloved DeSoto. He walked over to it and ran his hand over its well-waxed hood.

“Hi, baby. I’ve missed you. Fancy going for a spin?”

Spike dug in the pocket of his duster and pulled out the keys, tossed them in the air and laughed softly as he caught them. The door opened with a bit of a squeak which made him frown. Need to put some oil on that hinge. With a sigh, he slid behind the wheel. Thanks to Volkov’s attention, the car had been kept clean and he’d turned the engine over often enough to make sure that the car would run smoothly when Spike felt confident enough to drive again.

Spike rubbed his fingers over the steering wheel. “Need you to look after me, okay? Might be a bit rusty.”

He’d waited for this moment for weeks. Until now he had felt just too nervous to be out on his own. He didn’t like to admit it but it was true. Still felt bloody nervous, truth be told, but he had to do it one day, and tonight Volkov and Noreen were out at the cinema. Spike needed to do this and he needed to do it without an audience.

The car roared into life and Spike backed it out onto the road. He drove more slowly than he used to, as he still had a bit of trouble judging distances and was taking no chances.

At his destination he pulled up in what he considered to be his spot and stared at Buffy’s house. To his relief, the curtains hadn’t yet been drawn and the brightly lit room made it easy to see inside.

Now where’s Buffy?

He got out of the car and got closer to the open window when he saw Joyce march into view with Hank following behind her, gesturing wildly. What’s going on here then? Spike tensed and cocked his head on one side, listening hard.

“For God’s sake, Joyce, calm down,” yelled Hank.

Joyce whirled around. “Calm down! Don’t you tell me to calm down! I’m not the one who’s been taking my secretary to dinner every time you said you were working late.”

Hank walked to her and grabbed her arms in his hands. “Just listen to me! You’ve got it wrong, okay? Work’s been really stressful and we just went out to unwind.”

Joyce struggled in his grip. “Get your damn hands off me!”

Spike took one step closer to the door. If that git hurts Joyce…

“Look, honey—”

Joyce pulled herself free. “Hank, can you please just stop with the lies? It’s not like it’s the first time. Thank God, Buffy’s over at Rachel’s for the night. I’m sick of her being in the middle of our arguments.”

Spike smiled briefly; he knew where Rachel lived. He would get to see Buffy. His smile faded as he heard Hank’s reply.

“Well, I’m sick of the freaking arguments. You never quit nagging!”

“And you never quit screwing around!”

Joyce sidestepped Hank and rushed out of the room.

Spike had no doubt that the argument continued, but it was no longer in his earshot. He returned to the DeSoto, turned the key in the ignition and shook his head sadly as he contemplated the future for the family. He’d seen how Buffy looked at Hank; she loved her father deeply. Spike wished that he could spare Buffy and Joyce the pain that was to come, but this was one thing that he couldn’t even hope to influence.

Driving slowly away and trying to contain his emotions, he made his way to where Rachel lived. The evening was warm and Spike hoped that the girls would be outside. He craved seeing Buffy like he’d craved the human blood when he’d returned to taking pig’s blood. But she was one addiction that he’d never get over.

He parked the DeSoto outside a house a short distance up the street and got out, then walked down the road as casually as he could. He was hoping to achieve a saunter but ended up settling for a stroll. Spike wondered what Buffy would look like now that she was twelve. Almost a teenager. On the way to becoming a woman – becoming the woman that he loved.

Spike heard loud giggles from Rachel’s back yard. He recognized Buffy’s right away and had to rest a hand on the wall he was passing to steady himself.

Buffy! And she’s happy; she’s having fun.

He gasped as Buffy came around the corner of the house and into view, her blonde hair in two plaits that bounced as she ran. She was looking over her shoulder at Rachel and another two girls that he didn’t recognize.

“Give it back,” shouted Rachel, but she was giggling too and didn’t look angry.

“No way,” replied Buffy, turning back to face her and holding up a small pink book. “You shouldn’t have left your diary on your bed. You must have wanted us to see it.”

“Oh, please! It’s so lame – it’s last year’s,” protested Rachel.

“Last year? Isn’t that when you were crushing on Malcolm Simpson?” asked a brunette.

Rachel blushed furiously and Spike had to stifle his own laughter at her discomfort.

“That’s right,” said Buffy. “Now let’s see wh—”

Rachel snatched the diary out of Buffy’s hand and raced back out of sight. Buffy and the other girls squealed and gave pursuit.

“Need better reflexes than that, pet, if you’re going to be the best slayer the world has seen.”

Spike turned around and walked back to the DeSoto. He could rest easy now that he had seen Buffy again, and that he’d managed to go somewhere alone at last. Now what he needed was to get back into the saddle for a fight. He’d avoid anything that looked even vaguely blue, but he was no good to the slayer-to-be if he couldn’t watch her back. With a smile, Spike headed for the nearest demon bar, sure that he'd find something to hit there.

Anticipation

Chapter Seven:

Spike’s jaw ticked and his fists clenched in fury. It took all his restraint to stay hidden behind the large tree so that he wouldn’t alert Merrick or Buffy to his presence. If he moved slowly in a wide circle, he could reach the dirty vampire hiding behind a stone cross on the other side, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to chance it. Not yet.

Angel. He’d never seen him so unkempt before. And yet, there he was, spying on the newly called slayer. Spike stifled a low growl and watched as Buffy loosely held a stake in her hand for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” she was saying to Merrick, “but seriously, I think you need some help. I mean, I’m crazy just for coming out here alone with you in the dark.” She shook her head. “Vampires? Is this a joke?”

Merrick leaned against a tombstone. “All I ask is that you give me another five minutes."

“My parents are going to be worried about—”

Despite his anger over seeing Angel, Spike’s face split into a grin at Buffy's horrified expression when a muddy hand broke through the ground just beneath her. Though he had every confidence in her ability as a slayer and he knew that he had to let her do it and learn on her own, Spike couldn’t help but get concerned when she stumbled back, still not holding the stake correctly.

The fledgling caught her scent as he climbed out and lunged for her. And she just let him! Buffy screamed as she hit the ground, the fledge landing squarely on top of her. Spike rolled his eyes and groaned in embarrassment for her. She had a long way to go, apparently. Spike had always assumed that she’d been born with the instinct.

He caught sight of Angel, looking lost and concerned, but wisely staying hidden, and then Buffy screamed again. This time, she managed to push the newly risen vampire off her.

“Oh, God,” she mumbled as she scrabbled on her hands and knees, reaching for the stake she’d dropped.

Spike fought the urge to shout out a warning when she stared cluelessly at the stake as the vampire advanced on her again. Buffy looked up just in time and tossed him to the ground as if she’d been doing it all her life. One quick look at the stake and a questioning glance at Merrick, and then she was after the vampire. Buffy kneeled, raised the stake and drove it down into its stomach.

Spike snorted when she said, “Ooh, not the heart.”

Then she raised the stake again and hit its heart. The vampire exploded into a fine dust. She fell back with a screech and froze where she was, her eyes wide with disbelief. Merrick slowly walked up behind her and said, “You see? You see your power?”

Buffy was too stunned to say anything. Merrick helped her up and led her out of the cemetery and to his car. As they drove off, Spike remembered Angel and went searching for him in time to see him take off in a beat up Impala.

Just as he suspected, the ugly, rusty car was parked in Spike’s spot in front of the Summers’ home. Spike pulled up behind it, got out and followed the repugnant smell of dirty Angel, who was standing on the side of the house where Buffy’s room was located on the first floor. Spike reached out to grab Angel by the shoulder when Buffy and Joyce came into view.

“Why didn’t you call?” asked Joyce, her voice coming clear through the open window.

“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t know it was so late. Tyler and I were talking—“

“That boy is irresponsible.”

“No, Mom, it’s not his fault,” Buffy said softly, taking off her coat.

“You know we worry. That’s all.” Buffy looked down, not knowing what to say next. Joyce threw her hands up and said, “Dinner’s in ten minutes.”

Spike was mesmerized by the sight of Buffy standing before her mirror, her eyes watery as she listened to her parents argue about her. He snapped out of it when Angel shifted from one foot to the other. Sneering, Spike stomped over to him and got Angel in a chokehold. He dragged the heavier vampire away from the house as Angel struggled to get away.

“So?” Spike said as he let him go. “The Powers That Be send you back here too?”

Angel glared at him. “What are you doing here, Spike. And what the hell are the Powers That—”

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb with me, you stupid git.” Spike shoved Angel, who didn’t fight back. “I don’t care what they’re trying to do. Buffy and I don’t need your help.” Spike looked up at the sky. “Whatever the hell you think you’re doing, you can just send him back. Buffy doesn’t need this fool. She needs me.”

Confused, Angel turned and gazed at the Summers’ house. “Is that her name,” he asked softly. “Because I’m not going to let you kill this slayer. One is all you are ever going to get.”

Spike narrowed his eyes at Angel and held up two fingers. “Two. I’ve killed two slayers, not one.” Then he looked at his boots as guilt washed over him. “You know that. And while I had a chip in my head to stop from killing the last time you saw me, I don’t have one now. Still, I don’t want to kill this Slayer and you know it.”

Angel shook his head in confusion. “Chip? The last time I saw you, I was kicking you out of a submarine.”

“Huh?” Spike walked around Angel, really taking in his appearance. “So you haven’t done any time travelling lately?”

“Is that even possible?” Angel asked, uninterested.

Now this was interesting. Spike had just assumed that the time travel thing had done a number on Angel. He circled his grandsire and they glared at each other.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Spike, but I’ve been asked to help this slayer and you are not going to get in the way.”

Spike chuckled. So this was it. The time when Angel started meddling in Buffy’s life. He’d always thought that Angel had started meddling in Buffy’s life once she was in Sunnydale, but now he knew otherwise.

“So, you came to get a look at the new girl, yeah? She’s young. Very young. And, just the sort you liked to torture back in the day. So now you’re all for helping the poor thing?”

Angel sputtered as he shook his head. “No. It wasn’t like that. This demon, Whistler, he found me and said—“

“A demon?” Spike asked with a raised brow. “A demon asks you — a vampire — to come and help a vampire slayer, and you’re all for it?”

Angel opened his mouth to reply, but the next voice came from behind Spike. “Should I be insulted?”

Spike whirled around and screwed his face in disgust. A short man in outdated clothes and the ugliest hat he’d ever seen stepped out of a clump of bushes.

“Who the hell are you?” Spike asked.

“Name’s Whistler. And I know who you are,” the demon disguised as a man said, pointing at him. “Coming a little early to the party, aren’t you?”

Spike stood tall and sniffed. “Just a bit, yeah.”

Whistler nodded, pulled out a slip of blue paper and unfolded it. “I just got the memo. Us peons are always last to know about changes.”

“What is going on here?” Angel grumbled.

The demon glanced around and then said, “Let’s do this some place else, shall we? A bar with alcohol and stale pretzels?” Spike glared at Whistler as he stood by the DeSoto. “What, you think I want to be seen driving around in that jalopy with Mr. Never-Heard-Of-A-Shower?”

Spike grumbled under his breath on the drive to the bar, taking turns watching the road, the demon staring at him curiously from the passenger seat, and the rusty car behind them, which appeared, in the rearview mirror, to be driving itself. He grumbled louder when he found that he was going to be stuck with paying for the drinks.

They sat in a dark corner near the pool tables, but the other patrons still gave them curious and disgusted looks. The waitress, Mary, brought over their drinks and smiled at Spike.

“Where’s Volkov tonight?”

Spike shrugged. “I think he’s out with Noreen.”

She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Your new friend smells really bad.”

With a chuckle, he waved her on. Then he sobered up and glared at Whistler. “You work for the Powers That Meddle?”

“Real funny, but yes, I do.”

“So are they ready to tell me what the hell they were thinking by sending me back here?” Spike glanced at Angel, but he seemed out of it -- just staring at his untouched drink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is that about two hours ago, I put my hand in my pocket and found this note.” The demon tossed the note across the sticky table. “Then I came looking for Angel.”

Spike opened the note and squinted at the small writing before reading it aloud, “There’s been a ripple in the plan. Look for Spike the vampire. Can’t miss him, his hair is almost white. We don’t have an answer for how or what he’s doing here. It is too early for him. See if you can get him on our side. Like Angel, Spike has a soul.”

“A soul!” Angel shot out of his seat and grabbed Spike by his coat. “How?”

Spike pushed him away, readjusted his coat and then calmly sat back down. Ignoring Angel, who continued to glare at him as he sank back into his chair, Spike asked Whistler, “How can they not know what I’m doing here? Aren’t they the gits that made it happen?”

“If they’re admitting in writing that they don’t know what you’re doing here, then it’s safe to say The Powers are not the ones who brought you here,” Whistler said with a shrug. And then he leaned forward and said in a lower voice, “Where have you come from?”

“That’s not important,” Spike said, pocketing the note from The Powers. “What is important is that you go back and tell your bosses that Angel’s brand of hero won’t be needed. I’ve got this one covered.”

The glasses clicked against the table as Angel brought his fist down on it. “How did you get a soul?”

“That’s my business.” He pointed at Whistler. “I’m now convinced that The Powers are not the good guys. Whoever they are, they aren’t very intelligent. Angel has a cursed soul with only one way to lose it, and yet they send him on a mission to help a young girl —totally his sicko type — who will be too much temptation for him.” Spike stood up and threw a few bills on the table for Mary and then sneered at Angel. “I don’t know what happened for you to get like this. Last time I saw you, you were clean and working for the U.S. Government. But, stay away from Buffy. For your sake as well as hers.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. “If you really want to do some good, stick around. This town is full of demonic evil and could use a champion.”

“That’s why the Slayer is here now,” Whistler said.

“She won’t be here for long,” Spike said and then abruptly turned and strode to the door.

He didn’t look back. He could only hope that Angel would take his advice, but seeing how he’d gazed at Buffy at the cemetery, Spike doubted that the cursed vampire would.

*~ * ~ * ~*

Spike absently followed Buffy and Merrick from a safe distance. It had been a week since he’d first seen Angel. He hadn’t caught sight of him again and he could only hope that his grandsire had re-grown a few brain cells and was staying away on purpose. It was getting later or earlier as sunrise was only a few hours away. Buffy had learned the ‘jumping out of the window’ trick early on, and her parents had no idea that she was out trolling the cemeteries with a strange man, looking for monsters to practice her newfound strength and fighting skills on.

The air around the pair had grown thick with damp fog tinged with a greenish glow. It swirled and moved around them as they pushed through it. Buffy was starting to get a sense when demons were around so he kept his distance from them, though he wasn't sure he would even set her senses off, now that he had a soul. Tonight, he slinked from tree to tree and did his best not to snap any twigs.

A very tall vampire suddenly blocked their path and Buffy raised her stake just as Merrick stepped to the side. The mild mannered man calmly gave her instructions on what to do as the vampire and the slayer both fought for their lives. Spike knew she would survive, but he still bit his lip as he watched.

Even at fifteen years old, Buffy was magnificent. She’d come a long way in just a few short days. Her kicks were graceful, packing a punch strong enough to propel the vampire up and into the nearest tree. It was no wonder that she was such a great slayer and that she had always walked away from one of their fights still alive.

The thought gave him pause as the vampire sprang back up and charged at her again, his fangs bared and eager to sink into young supple flesh. He shivered. That was Spike many years ago. Evil, living off the pain and suffering of others, reveling in the death and destruction and relishing the kill.

Movement out of the corner of his eye got Spike’s attention. Another vampire was swiftly making its way through the trees and heading right for the fight. Spike sprang into action, pulling out his own hand made stake and rushing at the vamp before he could be seen or heard by the watcher or slayer.

It was over quickly, as Spike was well practiced in the art of killing demons. It’s what he‘d done to kill time while Buffy was busy growing up. He placed bets, he drank at the bars and he hunted demons. In the same way as he had toyed a bit with his victims in the past, he often played with the demons before he killed them; but not this one. Not tonight. He’d never take a chance with Buffy’s life.

The vampire’s dust hadn’t even settled to the ground before a figure in a filmy white dress came out of the fog. Spike froze while still kneeling and looked up at Drusilla, who stood with her arms folded across her chest and a petulant pout on her lips.

“What’s happened to my Spike?” she asked softly.

They both turned to look in the direction of the other fight as Buffy shouted a victory cry and jumped up and down. “I totally had that one. He didn’t even have a chance.”

Drusilla took a few steps closer and leaned to the right to get a better look.

“Is that why you’re killing your own kind now, Spike?”

He stood, put his stake away and then hit his coat a few times to get rid of the dust. “What are you doing here, Dru?”

“I came to see you. To see if you were done playing games. I miss my Spike.”

He gave one last look at Buffy and then gently steered Drusilla in the other direction. He didn’t speak until they were out of the trees and walking down a deserted sidewalk. “Listen, Dru, I’m different now. I can’t be with you.”

She yanked her arm from him and quickened her step. “That girl in the woods - she’s a slayer. You should be smashing and bashing her, not killing ones like us.”

“I know, but some sodding crazy things have happened, Dru, and I need to be here now.”

“No you don’t.” She twirled and then walked backwards in front of him, her hips swaying provocatively with every step. “Come away with me, my Spike. Let’s go to Europe and rip it to shreds till the streets run red. Let’s feast on their blood and drink their wine.”

“No.” He shook his head and tried to think fast. What could he do with her? How could he get rid of her without killing her?

Drusilla stopped abruptly and he bumped into her. She pressed against him, but he pushed her away and she vamped out. “It’s that little girl. The new slayer. Isn’t it? You want her,” she spat out. “I’ll kill her and then you will get better.”

In a flash, Spike had his hands around her throat and he lifted her up, his face morphing into demon shape. “Don’t touch her. You hear me?” He gave Drusilla a good shake to drive home his point.

She went limp in his hands and he let her down gently, her sad eyes too much for him. Then she turned and moaned, holding her head in her hands, her eyes fixed on the mental hospital that they had stopped in front of.

“Get me away from here. Please, Spike. They think I’m crazy; they want to put me in there!”

Spike sighed and then lifted her up in his arms. For as long as he’d known Drusilla, the one thing that terrified her were insane asylums of any sort. Angelus had tortured her, killing her family and the nuns at the convent, and she’d gone mad before he had turned her. Then, to keep her in line, Angelus used to threaten to lock her up in an asylum if she wouldn’t be good. The sight of one turned her into a frightened little girl. He used to glare at Angelus and promise Drusilla that he’d never put her in one and never let Angelus do it either.

Now, she clung to him, her icy cold fingers digging into his shoulders. Once they were out of sight of the asylum, she became more lucid and could stand on her own two feet again. She shook her head and reached out to trace his cheekbone with a sharp fingernail. “I can’t let her have you, Spike. You’re mine. You’ve been gone long enough.”

Spike glanced up at the sky. “The sun’s about to come up. Let’s get you some shelter and we’ll talk about this tomorrow night.”

Can’t take her back to my place and chance her taking a bite out of Volkov. Where to go?

The flashing vacancy sign across the street got his attention and he quickly dragged her across the street. The motel attendant was a little surprised when Spike asked to pay for a full night, but took his cash and handed him the key. Once inside the room, Spike insisted that they sleep. She got on top of the bed and beckoned for him to join her.

He shed his coat and let her wrap her arms around him. He drifted off to sleep mulling over different ideas on how to get her out of town and keep Buffy safe. Just before he went out completely, he made up his mind. He was going to have to knock her out, drive her far away and then tie her up somewhere. Then, he’d tell her never to come back or if he saw her again, he’d have to dust her.

Late the next afternoon, he woke slowly, just as the sky was turning pink as the sun was going down. Spike sat up and glanced around. He shot up out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, but Drusilla wasn’t there. Then he noticed the bedspread from the other bed was missing.


“Damn!”

a/n: Much thanks to Slaymesoftly and Seapealsh for doing the beta work on this story for us.

Chapter Eight:

The foul mood that Spike was in only intensified as he skulked down the putrid-smelling alley, doing his best not to be seen by Buffy, her watcher or the two other vampires following the pair intently. He’d sensed his family members before he caught their scents mingling with the garbage.

Even though his grandsire was cleaned up a bit, he still looked lost -- yet determined. Angel hung back and although they were within speaking distance and Spike could tell that Angel now knew he was there, they ignored each other. If the older vampire had seen, sensed or smelled Drusilla, he wasn’t letting on.

Spike, however, could not ignore his sire. She came in and out of his line of sight as she weaved around the dimly lit buildings. Allowing himself the luxury of watching Buffy again, he got a look at her just in time to see her take off at a full run. Merrick trudged after her and Spike took the opportunity to leave his spot behind a large dumpster. Buffy was getting farther away from the portly man, who wheezed and huffed along.

Spike couldn’t believe that he was wishing that Giles was there instead. The old watcher was a pain in the arse, but he was fit and always ready to take up arms with his slayer. It was no wonder that Merrick hadn’t survived to accompany Buffy to Sunnydale.

As Buffy disappeared behind a building, Spike ran back in the direction he’d last seen Drusilla. He cursed his bleeding heart when it came to her, even as he tightly gripped the stake in his left hand. He didn’t want to end her existence, but if she got too close to Buffy, Spike knew he would have no choice.

The past few days had been torture for him. He’d waited on tenterhooks for Drusilla to show up again. He hadn’t been this stressed in a long time. Losing his eyesight had been a nightmare and there had been some stress while he’d been recovering, but he was counting on things in this universe to go as they had in his past one. He’d been very sure that Buffy would be safe.

Even after he’d gotten his sight back, he had only followed Buffy around from time to time for the pure enjoyment of seeing her. And when she’d been activated as the slayer, he still had been relaxed, knowing that she’d lived many years beyond her first months as a new slayer. Now, with Angel sticking his nose in and Drusilla gunning for Buffy’s blood, his nerves were frayed to the breaking point. Volkov had even started to avoid him in the evenings and Spike couldn’t blame him. Hell, even Spike didn’t want to be around himself these days.

“Where are you going?” asked Angel, who jogged behind him. “Buffy went that way.”

Spike whirled around and growled. “Look, I don’t have time for you.” It grated on Spike’s nerves, but he managed to growl out his next words. “Go after Buffy and make sure she stays safe.”

Angel glared at Spike, turned slightly to glance back and then went in that direction to go after the Slayer. Spike didn’t like having Angel near Buffy, but he couldn’t have the git coming with him and having a conversation with Drusilla. As much as he wanted Drusilla out of his own life, he didn’t want her mooning over her “daddy” either. It was a case of not wanting her himself, but not wanting anyone else, especially her sire, to have her either.

Spike took off, but when he rounded the corner of a building and saw Drusilla across the street, swaying and moaning, he stopped short. He was gathering his wits and getting ready to cross the street when she turned, baring her sharp fangs at him.

“Why?” She continued to sway. “What is she that you and now Angelus are obsessed with her?”

“Come here,” ordered Spike.

“No!”

He was ready to pull his hair out. He didn’t know if he should lunge across the street and snatch her up — (what the hell would he do with her when he got her?) — or warn her to leave town again.

“I want you to leave this town and never come back.”

Drusilla’s shrill laughter rang out into the night; she let her features return to human and then glared at him.

“She’s tainted you both. My dark knight, my sire. Ruined!” Drusilla looked past Spike with murder gleaming in her eyes. “I will not rest until that slayer’s blood is spilled and running down my throat.”

“You come near her and I’ll have to dust you,” said Spike with determination.

A pang of regret hit him at the hurt look now on Drusilla’s face. “You would dare to stake me, like that vampire in the woods?” She backed up and put a hand to her forehead. “Do I mean that little to you?”

After letting out a weary sigh, Spike said, “Just leave, Dru.”

“She dies!”

Drusilla turned and ran in the opposite direction from where Buffy was. Spike stepped off the curb to go after her, but then he heard swords clanking and Buffy’s shout. He ran in her direction. The clanking of the swords continued and, by the sounds of it, it was a well-matched and furious fight.

He knew these alleys like the back of his hand and quickly rounded one corner and then another, the sounds of the battle getting louder all the while. As he rounded another corner, he came face to face with a group of gang members. He quickly counted six men in red bandanas and six strong heartbeats. Spike walked past them, thinking only of getting to Buffy. He stopped and faced the group when one of them spoke.

“Hey!” the leader of the group shouted at him. “I’ve seen you around before.”

“I’m sure you have,” Spike said unpleasantly.

“Come on man, I want to see what that noise is,” another member of the gang said.

“No, you don’t,” Spike warned. Buffy didn’t need the complication of these blokes along with fighting a demon. “You want to go home to Mommy.”

As a group, they advanced on Spike. He casually leaned against a building and waited until they were just a few feet away. Then he stood up straight, vamped out and snarled, holding his hands out like a black and white horror film monster.

“Oh, shit!”

They stumbled over each other to get away.

Spike chuckled as the last one went out of sight. “See, told ya. Off to Mommy you go.”

He got to the scene just in time to see a demon melt into a puddle of goo and to hear Buffy say, “Now that’s just disgusting.”

Spike had to endure Angel trailing behind him as they both watched Merrick drive Buffy home. They sat in their separate cars and watched Buffy climb into her bedroom window.

*~ * ~ * ~*

Dust floated all around Spike, but he still had one more vampire to get rid of. He ran a hand over his bleached hair and groaned in frustration. Problem was, it had run off and had probably engaged Buffy in battle already. He knew she could handle one vampire, but he was so angry, he wanted to get them all.

He’d come upon the four vampires, crouching behind a mausoleum, just as Drusilla had walked away from them. Every night this week, she’d run off as soon as he would spot her. Taking advantage of all his heightened senses, Spike scanned the area for any sign of his sire. Nothing.

He took off towards the last place he’d seen Buffy and hid behind a tree to watch her fight the vampire that he’d let get away. As soon as he spotted Drusilla hiding behind a tree, he ran after her, but as always, she was faster than he was and Spike knew from experience over the last couple of days that he would not be able to track her.

The smell of freshly spilt blood got stronger with every step he took back to where he’d last seen the Slayer. Dashing behind a tree as they passed by, he watched them slowly walk away; he tried to stay as still as possible, hoping that Buffy wouldn’t sense him there.

“It may need stitches,” Merrick told Buffy.

She shrugged, but kept her hand over her cheek. “I’ll be okay. I’ll get a bandage at home. It’ll heal quickly.”

As soon as they were safely set in Merrick’s car, Spike jogged down the street to where he’d parked his DeSoto. Gripping the wheel, he cursed and got the engine started but stayed where he was. So far, he had managed to keep Dru away from Buffy, but now she was soliciting help. He was going to have to do something drastic. And soon. He glanced around and then watched a man approach the establishment across the street. The man hesitated, took a deep breath and then entered the dreary building.

Spike’s eyes widened. He tilted his head, deep in thought, and then shook it. No. It wouldn’t work. There was no way he could get Drusilla admitted. She’d kill them before they had a chance to put her in a straight jacket, if they even still did that to people.

He drove up to Buffy’s house just as Merrick was taking off down the street. He parked, quietly shut his car door and then hid behind a bush to try to get a glimpse of Buffy and see just how bad the wound was. She’d left her window to her first floor bedroom partially open after slipping into the house and had gone directly to the bathroom and cleaned the wound. From her reflection in the mirror, Spike could tell that it was deep, but she didn’t even stop long to look at it.

Just as she opened the large bandage, her parents came rushing into the room.

“Buffy! Is that you?” Hank asked.

She dropped the bandage and came out of the bathroom.

“Oh, my God!” Joyce said, rushing up to her and sitting her down on the bed. “What have done to yourself?”

“And where you have been, young lady? We’ve been worried sick,” her father asked.

“I…I went to Becky’s house for a minute. On the way back, I tripped and cut my cheek.”

Hank glared at her, while Joyce ran to the bathroom and got the bandage.

He said, “You‘re lying to us and I want to know why you are sneaking out at such late hours. Is it so you can sneak off with that boy?”

“No!” Buffy said. She shot to her feet and pressed the bandage against her cheek.

Joyce folded her arms over her chest, trying to look angry, but Spike could see the grave concern in her eyes. “We called Becky and her mother says that they haven’t seen you tonight.”

“I’m through playing games with you,” said Hank, pointing at her. “Tell us the truth right now.”

Don’t do it, Spike thought. Buffy had that caught in the headlights look and he could tell that she was thinking about telling them the truth.

“I think you should both sit down,” she told her parents.

“Oh, God. You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Hank said as he took a seat next to Joyce on the bed.

“What? No.” Buffy paced, going out of Spike’s line of vision and back twice before she stopped in front of her parents. “You know how when I was little and you guys used to tell me that monsters weren’t real?” Her parents just stared at her so she said, “Well, you were wrong. Monsters are real.”

“You’d better stop trying to be funny and get to the truth because I’m quickly losing my patience,” her father said through gritted teeth.

Spike groaned and turned his back on them. He couldn’t bear to see this train wreck. As he suspected, her parents didn’t believe a word she said about vampires, demons and slayers. By the time they left her room, she was grounded for a month and she was sobbing dramatically into her pillow.

He envisioned himself slipping in through the window, wrapping his arms around her and telling her that everything would be all right. But even if he’d had an invitation to break the barrier, he couldn’t do it. Reluctantly, he went to leave, but paused and flattened himself against the side of the house as the front door opened.

“Where are you going?” Joyce asked.

“I don’t know. I just need to get away for a few hours.”

“Buffy needs us right now. I honestly think she believes what she was saying.”

“That’s what disturbs me the most. I think our daughter is going insane and I don’t know what we should do about it.”

Hank slammed the door to his car and then backed it up. Spike stayed where he was and waited for Joyce to go inside. The beginning of a plan took shape in his mind. An awful plan, but one that just might work.

He rushed home and found Volkov and Noreen sitting in the living room watching TV. They both glanced up at him, but before they could greet him, he sat on the coffee table in front them, blocking their view of the game show.

“Does your sister still live under that television studio?” he asked Noreen.

The demon just stared at him, dumbfounded. He was loath to ask them about Noreen’s sister after the fiasco a couple of months ago when they’d gotten the brilliant idea to try to set Spike and Dora up. Dora was very attractive, even for a Lister, but he had no interest in being set up and from poor Dora’s reaction that night at dinner, it had been uncomfortable for her as well. Noreen had insisted that her sister like Spike that she was just incredibly shy.

“She still lives there. Why?”

“I need her to get a few things for me in the costume department.”

*~ * ~ * ~*

Two days later, Dora came by the house with the things Spike had requested. She shyly handed him the duffle bag and then made excuses for why she had to leave. He rushed to his bedroom, pulled the items out one by one and groaned louder and louder as each new item was revealed. He had changed into the clothes and was just trying to fit the moustache to his upper lip when the front door opened. Spike stepped into the living room and glared at the couple, daring them to laugh.

“I thought you said Dora liked me,” he grumbled.

Volkov brought a fist to his mouth and coughed into it, but Noreen didn’t even try to mask her amusement.

“She does.” She shrugged as she stood before him. “You did say you needed a costume that would totally transform you.”

“But, I don’t want to be ginger!” Spike said.

“That’s quite a shade of red, isn’t it?” Volkov said. “But it doesn’t match your hair color at all.

Spike pointed towards his bedroom. “There’s a matching wig.”

He sat still and let Noreen settle the wig on his head until Volkov said it looked real. Then he stood and turned in a slow circle.

“What do you think? Do I look like a high school counselor or what?”

“Um, well, you certainly don’t look like Spike the vampire,” Noreen said.

Volkov took his time looking him over critically and he nodded. “If you’d come up to me on the street, I’m not sure that I’d recognize you right away.”

“Good,” Spike said as he held out his hand. “I’ll need the keys, then.”

While Noreen dug through her purse for the keys to her Nissan Sentra, Spike tilted his head and watched Volkov, who continued to stare at Spike.

“What?”

“It’s just that you really do look like the bookish sort in that get up. If it weren’t for your eyes and your cheekbones, I wouldn’t know you.”

Ignoring his friend’s comment, Spike thanked Noreen for the keys and headed for the car. He frowned as he drove to his destination, hating the way he was dressed and hating what he was about to do. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of any other way to keep her safe.

a/n: Much thanks to Slaymesoftly and Seapealsh for doing the beta work on this story for us.


Anticipation

Chapter Nine

When the doorbell rang, Buffy glanced up from her homework but went right back to it. Lying on her stomach with her legs up and her elbows pressing on the mattress to hold her head up, she frowned down at her History textbook. Buffy couldn’t care less about the French Revolution, but she had to get this stuff done. Merrick had given her a boatload of material to read about being a slayer to occupy her time while she was grounded, but since she’d been called to her destiny her grades had been slipping.

She tried to concentrate on her textbook, but the voices drifting in through her open bedroom door piqued her interest. A man with a heavy southern accent mentioned her high school and her name. After shutting her textbook, she got up and hid in the hall where she could see and hear what was going on.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jones,” her dad said. “Please, have a seat.”

Mr. Jones sat down and pulled some papers out of his briefcase. She scrunched her nose at the man’s fashion sense. Who wore tweed anymore? Besides Merrick.

“I wish I were here on happier business, but the school has asked me to contact you about your daughter.” The man scratched his lip just above his red mustache and looked at her parents with kind eyes.

Her dad put his arm around her mom’s shoulders and said, “What has she done now?”

“It’s not what she’s done, but what she’s been saying. She…” he hesitated. “She is insisting that vampires exist.”

Speaking of vampires, Buffy edged closer to the living room and narrowed her eyes at Mr. Jones.

“Buffy has been telling us the same thing. About vampires. That they are real,” said her dad.

“Why isn’t Ms. Jenkins here to tell us this?” Joyce asked. “She’s still Buffy’s counselor, right?”

“Yes, she is. But she’s on leave for personal reasons and your daughter’s case has been given to me,” Mr. Jones said, not missing a beat.

The hair on the back of Buffy’s neck began to rise, the tightening in her gut intensified and she was now pretty sure what he was. With her heart pounding in fear for her parent’s safety, she raced back to her room, threw open her closet and dug around in a box on the floor. She grabbed a stake and went back to her spot in the hall.

Buffy had no idea how she was going to get that vampire out of her house without her parents getting hurt. On one hand, if she engaged in battle right there in her living room her parents would know she was telling the truth, but on the other hand, they could end up getting hurt. She couldn’t chance it. She had to figure out a way to get the vampire out of the house.

“We’ve found strange weapons in her locker and her talk about killing vampires concerns us,” Buffy heard Mr. Jones tell her parents.

“So what is the school’s recommendation?” Hank asked.

“I know this is tough for the both of you, but we suggest that she be temporarily placed in a psychiatric hospital for evaluation.”

Buffy ran into the room, brandishing her pointy stake. “Get out of my house right now!”

Joyce gasped and they all stood up. Mr. Jones held a hand up in a defensive manner. She didn’t see deadness in his eyes like all the other vampires she’d been face to face with. There was sadness in those blue eyes and she backed up, lowering the stake. Was she wrong about him being a vampire? Her instincts said he was, but her eyes told her something different.

“What are you?” Buffy asked. “Because I know you aren’t a counselor from Hemery.”

Joyce pointed at her. “Are…are those the type of weapons that you found in her locker?”

Buffy glanced down at her stake and then quickly hid it behind her back. Mr. Jones ignored her parent’s rapid-fire questions and orders for Buffy to put the wooden stake down. He just stared at her, swallowed a couple of times and then he said, “I’m here to help you, Buffy.” And the way he said her name did something to her insides, similar to the way it felt when Troy had caressed her stomach one evening.

“I don’t know what you are, but I know you aren’t human. Leave. Now,” Buffy told him.

“Don’t you talk to him like that,” her dad said. “Give me that weapon, right now.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not until Mr. Jones leaves.”

“Yes, well, it is time for me to go.” He gathered his papers, never taking his eyes off her, and then held the briefcase close to his chest. He addressed her parents and said, “Please, think about what I’ve said. I only want to see your daughter well and safe.”

Her dad rushed her and yanked the stake from her hands and she panicked as Mr. Jones went by her. Buffy watched him as her mother held the door open for him. Her father left the room with the stake and she prepared to go hand to hand with the creature, whatever he was, if he threatened her mom. Joyce watched him go out the door and then stared at Buffy as if she’d grown an extra head. Buffy ignored her and kept her eye on the retreating form of Mr. Jones. He paused, turned and then vamped out.

“Mom! Look! He is a vampire.”

She tried not to sound hysterical, but failed. Buffy was desperate for her parents to believe her. By the time her mother looked, Mr. Jones had turned back to his human face, and then he walked away.

*~ * ~ * ~*

Spike parked his car across the street from the psychiatric hospital and glared at the rusty Impala down the street. He now had his answer. He’d gone by the Summers’ residence, but found the car gone and the house dark. Buffy’s parents obviously hadn’t wasted any time; they’d had her admitted during the day. What he wanted to know was how Angel had found out. He jogged across the street and approached the vehicle.

“Get out!” Spike snarled.

Angel, looking more confident and better groomed, stepped out of the car and glared at him. “Go away, Spike. I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not here to help you, you git. And how did you know Buffy was here?”

Angel grabbed Spike by the coat and threw him against the wall, using his bulk to press him against it. “I followed her watcher. And you never learn, do you, William? You never could respect your elders.”

Spike pushed him away and sneered. “No, I just don’t have any respect for you.”

“I don’t have time for your crap. The Slayer must be going crazy in that place. I’ve got to find a way to get her out of there,” said Angel as he stared up at the high, bar covered windows.

“Leave her be. She’s safe there.”

“Safe from what?”

“From Drusilla.”

Angel turned in a circle, scanning the area. “I thought she was here with you?”

“She’s not. We haven’t been together for years. She knows that we’re both trying to help Buffy, and Dru wants her dead. That is why I orchestrated this stay for Buffy here.”

“You did what?” Angel growled, taking a menacing step towards Spike.

Spike pointed a finger at him. “You’re the one who drove Dru crazy before you turned her and then made her terrified of these places. It’s the safest place for the Slayer until I can figure out what to do with Drusilla.”

Angel looked down and then shook his head. “The Slayer isn’t going to be able to do her job if she’s locked up in there.”

“I know. I hate that it had to be done, but I need time. When was the last time you saw Dru?”

“Last I saw her, she was at the cemetery down the street. I thought she was waiting for you to show up. I left when I didn’t see Buffy and Merrick there and as I drove by here, I saw Merrick go in to the hospital.”

“I hope he advises her to stop talking about slaying and vampires,” Spike said, gazing up at the windows.

He wondered how well she was taking all this. Did they have her strapped down? Were they already giving her drugs? He hoped not. Anything that happened in there would be his fault. More determined than ever, he stomped towards the cemetery.

“Where are you going?” Angel asked him.

“I’m going to find Dru and take care of this once and for all.”

Spike wasn’t in the cemetery for more than two minutes before he found her, wandering near a mausoleum. She glared at him and then took off. He gave chase, but once he was past the cemetery gates, he lost sight of her. Growling in frustration, he paused and inhaled deeply, trying to get a whiff of Dru’s scent. He walked slowly, letting his nose lead him and ended up out of the cemetery and down the street.

Movement out of the corner of his eye as he passed a warehouse caught Spike’s attention. Instinctively he knew it was his sire. He tested a side door, made sure no one was looking and then stepped inside the dark and cluttered space. Metal shelves filled with wooden pallets lined the walls and more pallets and debris were stacked and scattered haphazardly all over the room.

“Where is she, Spike?”

Drusilla’s smooth voice came from the far corner, but she was hidden behind a large metal container.

“She’s out of your reach now. You might as well give up and go away.”

He saw her white dress before he saw her face as Drusilla came out of hiding and said, “Never. Not until she’s dead.”

“She’s in the asylum. Unless you want to get locked up too, I suggest you leave town.”

Fear clouded her eyes for a brief moment and then she shrugged. “She can’t stay in there forever and I have all the time in the world.”

“Leave, or I’ll have to kill you,” he said, trying to sound as detached as he could.

Spike desperately wanted her to just get out of town. He didn’t want to have to hurt her. Before he could say anything else, she was on him. They fell to the ground and it was all he could to do to deflect her razor sharp nails as she clawed at him. He managed to get his feet under her, and with all his strength, he kicked her away. She went flying, landing heavily against one of the metal shelves.

With an angry yell, she tackled him again just as he was standing. She shoved at him. Spike grunted when he hit the wooden pallet with so much force that it broke and splintered. He slowly looked to the left and blinked. A large and very sharply pointed tip had just missed piercing his back and his heart. His side burned where it had grazed his skin.

Jumping up, he went on the offensive, attacking with brutal force. She retreated a few steps, but gave as good as she got. They had fought side by side for so long that they knew each other’s every move. Drusilla gripped his shoulders and they turned, exchanging positions. She shoved at him, but he stood firm to deflect her kicks and blows. Spike ran at her and using flat palms, he gave her a good shove.

Drusilla lost her balance and fell back onto the pallet that he had broken. His eyes widened when he realized that the sharp point of the splintered wood had pierced her body. He raced towards her only to hear a tiny whimper as she exploded into a fine dust.

Stunned, he stood with his hands out and watched as fine particles of the gray dust landed in his white palms. She was gone. His sire, the first person to show him any attention, the first woman he’d ever truly fallen in love with was gone. And by his hands.

*~ * ~ * ~*

Something woke Buffy up. The fog in her brain prevented her from thinking straight, but she knew someone was in the room with her. She was vulnerable on her back, but try as she might, she could not turn over or even open her eyes. Footsteps came closer. She didn’t know where she was or what was going to happen next. If she could have managed to open her mouth, she would have screamed, but even that task proved too hard.

“I’m so sorry,” an unfamiliar man’s voice said in an English accent.

She got one eye open, but all she could see was the shadow of a form leaning over the bed in her darkened room.

“The danger is over now and I’ll do whatever I can to get you out of here fast. Just… Tell them what they want to hear. Demons, vampires, slayers: they don’t exist for these people. You have to lie to them.”

A cool hand touched her arm. Buffy wanted to grip it and ask him who he was, but he just patted her slowly and she still couldn’t talk. She heard his footsteps fade away and then she fought to come fully awake. The effort to move wore her out, the drugs in her system too strong, and as she slowly faded back into a deep sleep, she convinced herself that she’d just dreamed up the mystery man. Strangers didn’t just walk into her room, tell her there was no danger, and then pat her on the arm.

The DeSoto screeched to a halt in front of the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign. Spike chuckled as he remembered the time that he’d knocked it down. He’d returned after Dru had cheated on him in Brazil. Drusilla. His laughter died away. Closing his eyes against the pang that remembering her gave, he sighed deeply. She’d been threatening Buffy, but he’d never meant to kill her – not really.

Spike threw the car door open and got out. The night was warm and when he looked up, the stars were bright in the sky. And all’s well in the world… Yeah, right! His lip curled into a sneer at the thought. The Slayer was now in Sunnydale. Home of the Hellmouth, and a place that had given the two of them plenty of unpleasant times in the past. His past – her future.

“You won’t kick my arse this time, Sunnyhell,” growled Spike.

Glancing around, he decided that he’d go to the Bronze. He could use a drink or three and was fairly certain that Buffy would show up there. The first couple of days at school were over and she’d probably be out trying to make friends; trying to fit in. If not, he’d call by her new home later. Although he would have been happier if he’d somehow managed to keep Buffy away from the Hellmouth, Spike couldn’t help but smile. Nothing he could have done would have prevented her from being kicked out of Hemery. Burning down the gym! He had to admit it – even as young as she was, Buffy had style.

Spike pushed the door open and winced at the volume of the music. Shite, I must be getting old – thinking it’s too loud. Spike grinned. He couldn’t help it. He was back on his old stomping ground and this time he’d be one step ahead of any action. A quick glance around told him that tall, dark and brooding wasn’t here. Spike knew that Angel and Buffy had finally met when she’d first arrived in Sunnydale, and he wondered if the old git had spoken to her yet.

Walking up to the bar, he spotted Red. Willow was sitting at a table with a dark haired boy, who had his back to Spike. That must be Harris, so where’s Buffy?

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”

Spike stopped dead, turning his head away from the baby Scoobies, he stifled a gasp at the sight before him. Buffy! And a Buffy currently wearing the drinks that she’d been carrying. Bollocks!

“Um…sorry, love,” he muttered, unable to meet her eye. He threw a couple of bills on the bar counter. “Er…that’ll pay for some more.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked away as quickly as he could without actually running. Buffy frowned as she stared after the departing figure. She shivered as her slayer senses tingled. A vampire was nearby. She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, she spotted the vamp walking out of the club with his arm around a girl’s waist.

Oh, no you don’t. With a sigh, Buffy put the empty glasses on the bar, scooped up the dollar bills that that weirdo klutz had left, and followed the couple. As if talking to that librarian, watcher or whatever wasn’t bad enough. Now on a night out with what might actually turn out to be friends, she had to go and get with the slayage. Suck much? She meant her life, but had to giggle. The vampire wouldn’t be sucking on anything ever again after she’d gotten her hands on it.

“Be back soon,” she called out to Willow and Xander.

They stared after her as she jogged to the exit.

Willow and Xander weren’t the only ones who watched her leave. Spike thanked whatever gods looked after souled vampires when Buffy failed to pick up on what he was. Her senses were probably going into overdrive in the Bronze, as he’d already picked out at least five vampires in there - not counting himself.

He got to the alley and found a dark corner to stand in while he watched Buffy fight. Her technique was still a little raw in places but she was in total control of the situation. Spike almost felt sorry for the vamp; he didn’t stand a chance. Out of the corner of his eye – just as Buffy pulled a stake from inside her jacket – Spike noticed Willow and Xander running out of the club. So that’s how they find out she’s the Slayer. They stopped short when they saw their new friend locked in hand-to-hand combat.

Xander took two steps forward. “Hey, get off her, you big meathead!”

The vampire growled and took his eyes off the Slayer for a second to glare at the boy. Xander’s eyes widened when he saw the blazing amber eyes and the fangs. Buffy took advantage and rammed the stake into the vampire’s heart. She turned to face Willow and Xander before the dust even had chance to settle.

“Hey, guys,” said Buffy too brightly, as she dusted herself off.

Xander pointed to where the vampire had been. He’d heard her talking to Mr. Giles, the new librarian, earlier. Crazy talk, he’d thought at the time. But now he wasn’t so sure.

“Wha…the…who?”

Buffy smiled sweetly, well aware that he was too shocked to take it in. There goes my social life. She liked Willow and Xander and had hoped that they would become friends. Guess not. “Just forget what you saw, okay? Trust me – it’ll be better if you do.” She turned and began to walk away.

“Buffy,” Willow called out. “Don’t go.”

Buffy heard the sound of running feet and soon she had Willow on her left side and Xander on her right. She stood still.

“Look, I’m really sorry, but I can’t talk about it. You could end up getting hurt.”

“I heard you talking with Mr. Giles,” said Xander, staring at her intently. “Is it true?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. Was her life ever going to get any simpler? She’d hoped that by coming to a new school that she’d have a chance to be normal, like she was before Merrick had turned up.

“Please, talk to us, Buffy,” said Willow in a small voice.

Buffy could see that the shy redhead was shaking and not with cold. Torn between keeping her calling a secret and finally having someone that she could talk to about all the craziness in her life, Buffy found herself suggesting that they try to find a quiet corner in the Bronze.

“I’ll tell you everything that I can.”

“Like why that big guy went poof?” asked Willow, her eyes huge.

Buffy smiled and took her arm. “Yes, things just like that. But you might not want to be my friend once you know all about me.”

“We’ll always want to be your friends,” Xander said, a blush coloring his cheeks.

“Don’t bet on it,” replied Buffy dryly.


~*~*~*~

Spike smiled as he watched the three kids go back into the club. The fact that from now on she would have a close circle of friends, not to mention old Giles looking out for her, was one of the reasons why Buffy became such a successful slayer. He doubted that any slayer before her had the luxury of true friends. For a moment, he envied the boy and girl that she’d walked away with. What he wouldn’t give to be a real part of her life, but the time wasn’t right, not yet.

He strolled back into the club and settled himself on a stool at the bar where he could see Buffy’s profile as she talked to her friends. Nursing the measure of Jack that he’d bought, he allowed himself the luxury of drinking her in.


~*~*~*~

Willow and Xander had taken all that Buffy had told them better than she’d thought they would. Maybe, having been born on the Hellmouth, they had known on a subliminal level what was going on around them every night. Although, Willow did keep glancing at people nervously when they passed by, and didn’t look like standing was an option just yet. Buffy was glad when the conversation returned to more ‘normal’ topics like which teachers were the most strict.

“Hey,” Willow said, nudging Buffy in the ribs. “There’s a hottie, totally checking you out.”

“A what?” asked Xander in horror, seeing his dream of dating Buffy go up in smoke before he’d even had a chance to do anything about it.

Both girls giggled at him and then Buffy turned to glance in the direction that Willow had indicated with a nod of her head.

“Oh, it’s him,” said Buffy.

“You know him?” asked Xander, looking at the man at the bar through narrowed eyes. “Looks a bit old for you.”

“He’s the one who knocked our drinks over me, earlier,” replied Buffy. She met the man’s eyes for a moment before he looked away. “He seemed kinda weird.”

“Turn to dust weird?” asked Willow nervously. She couldn’t get the fact that vampires were real and could look human out of her mind. What if Xander is a vampire? She shook her head. Don’t be dumb – he can go out in the sunlight!

“Hmm…I’m not sure,” said Buffy, looking back at Willow and squeezing her hand. She had a vague feeling that she’d seen him before. The bleached hair and the long black coat were hardly inconspicuous. But if she had seen him, then it was back in L.A., so what was he doing here? She started to rise from her seat but when she glanced at the bar, the white haired man had gone. A quick scan of the club produced no sign of him and so she sat back down and filed him away in the ‘look into it later’ part of her brain.


~*~*~*~

Spike left Buffy to walk home with her friends. Wandering the streets reminiscing of Sunnydale times past, he was pulled from his thoughts by a voice calling out his name.

“Spike!”

He rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d be around here somewhere.”

To his left, Angel walked out of the shadows. “What are you doing here?” he asked harshly, stepping in close to Spike.

Spike sneered, leaned against a wall and lit a cigarette. “Could ask you the same thing, Peaches.” He blew smoke in Angel’s face purely because it would piss him off, and chuckled as the big git wafted his hand back and forth to disperse it. “Told you back in L.A., you’re not needed. The Slayer doesn’t need you – not while I’ve got her back.”

“It’s you she doesn’t need,” growled Angel, letting his demon show and baring his fangs.

Spike tossed his cigarette to the floor and pushed Angel away with both hands. “Piss off,” he growled, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Least I’ll keep her safe.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” roared Angel.

Spike grinned and easily sidestepped his grandsire’s wild punch. “Careful, Gramps, you might pull something.”

“William—”

“Oh, save it,” snapped Spike. “I can’t even be bothered to fight you. Just don’t get in my way…or the Slayer’s.” He turned on his heel and strode away.

Angel opened his mouth to warn Spike that the Master was ascending but decided against it. Buffy didn’t need Spike getting in the way and screwing things up for her. Spike always screwed things up. Angel decided to tell Buffy soon.

Once he’d stomped away from Angel, Spike’s feet took him inevitably to 1630 Revello Drive. The light was on in the bedroom at the front of the house. Spike walked over to a large tree to the side of the house.

“Hello, old friend,” muttered Spike. He smiled a little sadly. “Or should that be new friend, huh?” His days of lurking beside it were, technically, still several years in the future. “Anyway – you’d better be good at keeping secrets ‘cause I’m going to be hanging out here – a lot.”

He pulled out his fags and settled in to watch the house until dawn forced him move on.


~*~*~*~

Buffy was walking to the Bronze a few days later when she became aware that someone - or rather something – was following her. She stopped and put her hands on her hips.

“I’m so not in the mood for this. Show yourself now!”

Spike grinned. It was a fair cop. Before he could make himself known, Angel stepped up behind Buffy.

“There’s trouble coming and you need to be prepared,” he said, walking closer.

Spike bit back a snarl, but pricked up his ears to listen to what the sod had to say. Was it just him or was old Angel sounding a bit more like a bog-trotter than usual? Piling on the ole accent to impress the pretty girl? Spike ignored the little voice telling him that he often did the same.

“Right,” said Buffy. “And you’re telling me this because…”

“Because you need to know. The Harvest will soon be upon us and you have to stop it,” said Angel, smiling slightly at Buffy and walking around her.

She turned with him, never taking her eyes of him. Spike’s eyes narrowed when he noticed the way that Buffy was looking at Angel. That’s one thing that he would definitely prevent. Angel taking her virginity, getting a little too happy and losing his soul. Angelus could never be allowed back.

“Harvest? Is that it? When is it? What is it?” asked Buffy.

“Your watcher will know. The Master is rising and he must be stopped.”

Angel began to walk away.

“Hang on. Who are you?” Buffy called out.

Angel turned back to face her and smiled. “A friend.”

“Well, I don’t need a friend,” Buffy retorted.

Angel laughed softly. “I never said I was yours.” He twirled back around and disappeared into the shadows.

Spike felt anger burn in him as he watched Buffy. She stood staring after Angel for several minutes. Spike had to hand it to Angel – he was good at turning a bird’s head. Too bloody good. There was no point in talking to Buffy tonight. Angel had mentioned the Master. If the Master was here then his faithful followers would be here.

Bollocks.

He stalked away – hunting now. He had to find one of the minions, then he’d know where the Master was. He strode into the oldest graveyard in Sunnydale. If you were seeking out a vampire, then a graveyard was a pretty safe bet.

“Gotcha,” muttered Spike as he saw a vampire, dressed in a gaudy jacket, slip into one of the mausoleums.

Spike followed, cat quiet, behind him. Once inside, he leapt into action, catching the vampire by the back of the neck.

“Word to the wise. If you want to blend in, don’t look like DeBarge." Spike flung the hapless vamp across the room where he crashed into the wall and slid down to the ground. The vampire was on his feet in an instant.

“That right? So how come you look like you should be back in the seventies?” he sneered.

Spike chuckled as he vamped out. “Been there and done that – twice. Never was one to blend in. Like standing out from the crowd.” The vampires began to circle, facing each other, and both seeking an opening for attack. “This…” Spike indicated his clothes with a wave of a hand, “is a statement. Whereas you just look like a ponce.”

With that, he lunged forward, pulled a stake from the pocket of his duster and thrust it into the vampire’s heart.

“Bugger.” Spike groaned as the dust floated in the air. He hadn’t found out where the lair was, but he hadn’t been able to look at that sodding jacket for a second longer.

He decided to call it a night and walked to the crypt where he’d made his home. It was the same one that he’d occupied the first time around. Least it was in better nick now – not blown to smithereens by Buffy and soldier-wanker.


*~*~*~*

Buffy marched into the library, the doors swinging shut behind her. “Giles? Are you here?” she called. Adding, “Of course you are,” when he popped his head up from behind a pile of books.

“Yes, Buffy, I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“Um…” Buffy stopped when she got close to the table and fiddled with the book at the top of the pile. “Do you know anything about ‘The Harvest’?”

“The Harvest?” Giles frowned. “I’m not sure. How did you come across this piece of information?” Although he didn’t show it, Giles was delighted that she’d come to him. Up to now, his new charge hadn’t been very enthusiastic about her calling.

Buffy turned away. “A guy told me last night on my way to The Bronze.”

“A guy?” asked Giles incredulously? “He just walked up to you and said ‘The Harvest?’”

Buffy glanced at Giles. “Well, it was more like he was lurking about following me, and then I told him to show his face. When he came out of the shadows, he said that The Harvest will soon be upon us and that we need to be prepared. Oh, and he said that you’d know what it is, so why don’t you?”

“Er…I didn’t say that I didn’t know. I just need to do some research,” blustered Giles.

Buffy grinned. It was way too easy to mess with him.

Giles grimaced when he saw Buffy’s expression. The girl just had no respect. “Did this helpful stranger have anything more to say?” he said sternly.

“He did say that the Master was rising.”

“The Master?” Giles dashed to a bookshelf. His fingers ran over the spines of the volumes there until he found the one he needed. He pulled it out and rapidly flicked through its pages. “Aha, here it is…look.” He walked to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.

Buffy wrinkled up her nose. “Do I have to get with the books? I mean isn’t that like, your job?” She flopped in the chair next to him with a groan.

Giles rolled his eyes. “You need to hear this. How else can we prevent it?”

“Hmm,” huffed Buffy. “What’s with the ‘we’? You know it’s going to be me.”

Giles opened his mouth to retort but breathed a sigh of relief when Willow and Xander walked in. Initially horrified that the two of them knew Buffy’s secret, he was delighted to have found an enthusiastic researcher in Willow.

“Hey, Buff,” said Xander with a wave. “What gives?”

Buffy pouted. “Giles wants me to do research.”

“Man, that bites,” replied Xander.

“Really?” asked Willow, her eyes shining brightly. “Can I help?”

Giles smiled at her warmly. “You most certainly can. Perhaps you could use that infernal machine to check some things out for me.” He pointed to the computer.

The teenagers laughed. “Twentieth Century, Giles. Computers are here to stay,” teased Buffy. “Unlike tweed, which I hope goes out of fashion – oops sorry – it already is.”

“Enough of your lip. This is important,” replied Giles, the light tone of his voice softening the harsh words.

With a collective sigh, they all knuckled down to the work.

Banner by dawnofme

Betad by seapealsh and slaymesoftly.


Chapter Eleven

Spike kicked down the door to Angel’s basement apartment. “Right – you bleeding tosser – what’s all this about The Harvest and the Master?”

Angel calmly looked up from reading his book. “Hello, Spike. Why don’t you come in? Thanks for knocking.”

Spike marched over, snatched the book from his hands and threw it across the room. “Why did you tell her?” he snarled, vamping out. “Why did you fucking tell her? She’s too inexperienced for this shite. She can’t face the Master.”

Angel stood up and got right in Spike’s face. “She’s the Slayer. It’s what she has to do.”

Spike pushed him away. “So what part of looking out for her don’t you understand? This is why you need to stay away from her. I’ll keep her safe – you just end up getting her killed.”

“What?” Angel scowled. “I won’t let any harm come to her.”

“No, you let her die, you bastard,” muttered Spike, before saying more loudly, “Just keep the fuck away from her.” He turned and strode out as swiftly as he’d come in.

~*~*~*~

Spike was exhausted. He’d been hunting night and day for weeks, searching Sunnydale’s streets and sewers for signs of the Master. So far he’d drawn a blank. His mood wasn’t improved by the fact that he’d spotted Angel talking with Buffy several times. Looks like history was about to repeat itself with those two. That was something else he had to put a stop to – otherwise Angelus would be back and Buffy’s heart broken. Plus, he’d enjoy pissing Angel off.

He stopped short, raised his chin and inhaled deeply. He knew that scent. He whipped round and saw a figure walking across the graveyard. Darla. He slapped his forehead. Should have known bleeding Master’s pet, Darla, would be here. He watched her walk into the same mausoleum where he’d killed ‘DeBarge’. When she didn’t reappear, Spike jogged across the damp grass and followed her inside.

He glanced around. Where had she gone? Try as he might he couldn’t see anywhere that she could have exited. Hearing soft hand clapping behind him, Spike whirled around to come face to face with Darla.

“Hello, William,” she said. “Why are you following me?” She tipped her head on one side and smiled at him prettily.

Spike smirked at her. “Have to say, I’m not sure the preppy schoolgirl look suits you.”

“You’re still the same," she snarled, vamping out. "You still have no respect for your elders and betters.”

He leaned casually against the stone wall of the crypt. “That’s where you’re wrong, love. I really have changed. A lot.”

With a plan forming in his mind, Spike pushed away from the wall and walked towards her. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do – but he had no option. He needed access to the Master, and was kidding himself if he thought that taking the bastard down was going be easy.

Darla’s eyes narrowed as he approached. “What do you want, Spike?”

“I’ve come to offer my services to the Master.”

Darla threw back her head and laughed. “You?”

“Yeah. Why’s that so sodding funny? I am related an’ all.” Spike felt curiously offended by the fact that she found it so amusing.

Darla put her hand over her mouth in an effort to stem her mirth. “Spike, you’ve never wanted anything to do with the Master before, so why now?”

Hmm, what can I say to convince the bitch that I want to toe the family line? “Well, Angelus was always hanging around and you know how much I hate the prissy son of a bitch—”

Spike’s head whipped to the side as Darla slapped his face.

“He’s my son, and I’m not a bitch!”

Spike put his hand on his stinging cheek. “No, you’re a real lady,” said Spike, glaring at her. Shite, this isn’t helping the plan. “Look, Darla, pet. I’m sorry. I really am.” He dipped his head and looked at her through his lashes. “But you know how I’ve never got on with granddaddy.” He walked towards her. “I just hated that he was with you. I was so jealous; I just wanted to stake him. Couldn’t bear to watch the two of you…” He reached out and stroked his fingertips over her cheek. Spike smiled. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Darla’s suspicions began to disperse. Spike was very easy on the eye after all. She didn’t believe him for a moment, but it might be fun finding out what he really was up to. “What about Drusilla? All that crap about her being your destiny?”

Spike had never wanted to smash his fist into Darla’s face so badly. Only the fact that to keep Buffy safe he needed to find the Master kept his hands by his side. “I knew I could never get near you with Angelus around, so that left Dru.”

Darla’s face split into a grin. “Well…I’d never have guessed. I thought you were all wrapped up in her.”

“She’s history,” snapped Spike. This was harder than he’d thought it’d be. “So. Are you going to let me join you or what?” His patience at an end, he put his hand behind her head and pulled her into a kiss. For a second, Darla resisted and then she yielded to his attentions and kissed him back.

“My, my,” said Darla when they parted. “How the boy has grown.” Darla rested a hand lightly on the bulge in his jeans.

“’M not a boy,” grumbled Spike. He hadn’t been kissed in so long that the passionate kiss had him half hard.

“No, of course you aren’t,” purred Darla, caressing him more firmly. “So, are you serious about joining the Master? He wanted Angelus to return to the fold but he’s gone all soul having and soft. He’ll be pleased to see you. With the Harvest upon us, we need all the soldiers that we can get.”

Spike smirked; he’d be able to get the taste of the stupid cow out of his mouth later. For now, he’d achieved what he wanted. He’d meet the Master. Just have to hope that he can’t feel my soul. Spike took Darla’s hand in his. “Lead the way, love.”

~*~*~*~

Spike sighed as the large mouthful of Jack that he’d just swallowed burned its way down his throat. The meeting with the Master had gone well. He’d done everything that had been expected, even though kneeling before him had taken every ounce of self control that he had. He’d finally managed to slip away, and his feet had taken him unerringly to The Bronze.

He’d seen her as soon as he’d walked in. Buffy looked so pretty and happy, surrounded by her friends and…what the hell? Angel. Bollocks. Old tall, dark and broody actually looked happy too. Happy? Shite! Spike got up from his bar stool and took two steps towards the group before he stopped. What could he say? Buffy didn’t even know that he existed. Abruptly, he turned on his heel.

God, this guardian angel shite sucks.

~*~*~*~

Spike saw Buffy walking home one evening, for once not with her friends. He hesitated. Come on, just do it! How difficult can it be? Spike took a deep breath and walked towards her. She finally looked at him when they were only a few feet apart.

He smiled at her. “Hi, there,” he said, thanking the stars that vampires couldn’t blush.

“What? Oh, sorry. I was miles away – oh, it’s you!”

“It’s me,” he said stupidly. She’s noticed me before. He grinned.

“Yeah, you’re the one who spilled the drink on me in the Bronze that night.”

Great! Spike rolled his eyes as his grin faded. “That’s me.” He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“That’s all right.” She went to side step around him. “Well…er…nice seeing you, I guess.”

Spike watched in dismay as she began to walk away. He grabbed her arm. “Wait!”

Buffy stopped. She stared at his hand and then at his face. He got the message and quickly let his hand fall away.

“Good call,” said Buffy sharply. “Goodbye.”

“No, Buffy, wait, please.”

Spike suddenly found himself slammed up against the wall with five foot nothing of angry slayer in his face and a hand at his throat.

“How do you know my name?” she snarled.

“Let go of me and I’ll tell you,” croaked Spike.

Buffy shoved him harder before letting him go. “Speak.”

Spike coughed a couple of times and rubbed his throat. “Some grip you’ve got there.” He shrugged his shoulders to settle his duster back in place.

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “Still waiting. I’ve seen you watching me in The Bronze. What are you? Some kind of freaky stalker guy? ‘Cause gotta say, if you are, boy have you picked the wrong girl.”

Spike smiled broadly. God, she’s adorable. She leaned forward and he took a sideways step, getting his back away from the wall.

“I’m not a stalker,” he said. Okay, so I am, but not telling her that. It’s just…just that Sunnydale’s a funny place, what with the Hellmouth an’ all.”

“You know about the Hellmouth?”

“Well, yeah – like who doesn’t?”

Buffy shrugged. “Only the majority of the people who live here.”

“Good point,” said Spike, nodding. He cleared his throat and his expression got serious. “Look, I know you’re the Slayer, okay?”

Looking to the heavens, Buffy said, “Do I have a sign on my back telling everyone who I am? What is it with this town? I just happen to have two strange men—”

“Hey! I’m not strange!” protested Spike.

She glared at him and continued. “Two strange men come up to me – both knowing who I am.”

Spike cocked his head on one side and smiled weakly. “Coincidence?” He was puzzled by the fact that she hadn’t picked up on the fact they were vampires. Maybe it was the souls that were interfering with her senses?

“Did Angel tell you to keep an eye on me?”

“What? No!” snapped Spike. “I’m nothing to do with bloody Angel.”

“So you’re not here to warn me of coming danger?” asked Buffy, hands on hips.

Spike wondered when he’d lost control of the conversation. “Er…well, actually…no…there’s no trouble…I’ll take care of any trouble that comes up.”

Buffy grabbed his arm and rammed him against the wall again. Spike grunted as his head hit the wall hard enough to make him see stars. “Bloody hell, Slayer. I’m being helpful here.”

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“You know my name. So what’s yours?”

Spike toyed with the idea of making a name up, so that Giles wouldn’t be able to give her the run down of what he was, but when he opened his mouth out popped, “Spike. I’m Spike.” He smiled a touch lopsidedly.

“Spike? Dumb name.”

“And Buffy is just so classically elegant.” Spike snapped his mouth shut – wishing he’d never opened it in the first place. This was rapidly going from bad to worse.

“My mother gave me that name!” retorted Buffy, getting in his face.

Spike bit his lip. There was no way he was going to answer that.

“Let me tell you something, Spike. This is my town and I don’t need any help from you – like ever!”

Spike decided that before things got even more catastrophic he’d better extract himself from this conversation altogether. He pushed Buffy away. “Look, pet. My mistake. Silly me – thinking that having someone watch your back would be a good thing. Sod you!” He hurried away, but when he glanced over his shoulder Buffy was still standing there, watching him. He couldn’t help but smirk – maybe it hadn’t been a total loss after all.

~*~*~*~

“I’m telling you, Will. It was weird.” The girls were sitting on the bed in Willow’s room.

Willow leaned closer. “So he said he had your back?”

“Yes,” said Buffy, nodding. “First Angel and now this…Spike. I mean, what are the odds?”

Willow grinned. “Of two hot guys watching out for you?”

“Of them not really being evil,” replied Buffy with a sigh. “There’s no way that it’s a coincidence like he said.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m sure I’ve seen him before.”

“He has been in The Bronze a lot.”

“No.” Buffy shook her head. “I mean from before.” She frowned. “I think I’ve seen him before I came to Sunnydale.”

“Really?” Willow’s eyes widened. “When?”

Buffy thought back to that night in the hospital. The cool hand on her arm. That quiet voice. Suddenly she was sure of it. It had been Spike. The voice had been his. What did it mean? She glanced up at Willow’s expectant face, but she knew that she couldn’t tell her friend that her parents had had her committed.

“Er…a few times…at the mall I think. Maybe other places.” The more she thought about it, the surer she was. She had seen him before Sunnydale.

“That is weird, or kind of cool, really,” said Willow, giving Buffy a friendly push.

Buffy grinned and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. “So are you going to help me with this history assignment?” She successfully changed the subject.

~*~*~*~

Spike gritted his teeth as he knelt before the Master. God, did the ponce like to hear his own voice, or what? He was at the back, listening intently to the plans for The Harvest. Luke and Darla were immediately in front of the Master. Luke had been declared to be the vessel. He’d be the one to drink the blood that would free the Master from his prison. Spike had to kill him, but somehow not be seen doing it.

Darla’s hand touched Spike’s bowed head. “Come, darling. We need to prepare. There is important work to be done.”

Spike dutifully stood up and followed her out. He hoped that she wouldn’t want sex again. He wasn’t sure that he could get his little friend up to play. The woman took all the fun out of it.

He couldn’t believe his luck when Darla and Luke decided to case The Bronze for the next night, with Spike trailing after them like the well-trained little puppy that he wasn’t. When they got to the club, Luke ordered Darla and Spike to check out the rear of the building. As Spike followed Darla, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his duster. His fingers closed around the stake. This was the chance he’d been waiting for.

“Darla,” said Spike softy.

She glanced at him. “What?”

Smiling, he reached out to her. “I was just thinking how nice and quiet it is back here.” He curled his tongue behind his top teeth and raised his eyebrows.

She smiled at him. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Darla said, stepping in close to him.

Spike pulled out the stake and before she had time to react, he rammed it into her chest. “Bet you weren’t thinking of that, you evil bitch!” He coughed as she exploded into dust. “One down, one to go.”

Twirling the stake in his hand, he jogged around the side of the building. There was no remorse for Darla; she’d been matched in her depraved actions only by Angelus. She deserved to die.

“Where’s Darla?” asked Luke when Spike ran into view.

Spike didn’t miss a beat. “Gone back to the lair. The rear only has one door and it’s easy to defend. She wanted to take the Master a meal to keep his strength up for tomorrow.”

Luke nodded. “Good.” He waved a hand in the direction of The Bronze. “I have seen all that I needed to. Come, we shall leave. I need to rest.”

“Sure thing, big guy,” said Spike, clapping the huge vampire on his back. “Let’s get you home. You can put your feet up and…I dunno…watch some telly?”

Luke growled. “You talk too much.”

Spike nodded. “I know. ‘S a fault of mine.” He laughed.

As they walked down the street, Spike noticed Angel watching from the shadows. Spike narrowed his eyes. The pillock better not balls this up. He glanced at Luke. Need to get this show on the road. Spike slowed his step until he was slightly behind Luke. Stake at the ready… One, two, three! On three, Luke turned around and Spike thrust the stake into his chest instead of his back. Totally missing the heart. Oh, bollocks! Luke vamped out and grabbed Spike by the throat.

“I’ll rip you in half for that,” he growled.

Spike’s feet dangled about a foot off the ground as he wriggled uselessly in the huge vampire’s grip. He tried to grab the stake but Luke ripped it from his chest and hurled it to the floor.

“I won’t need a little piece of wood to kill you,” sneered Luke. “Not when I have two hands.”

Spike’s eyes bulged and he gurgled unintelligibly as his hands scrabbled at Luke’s. The grip on his neck tightened. The bastard was going to rip his head off. This was it. He was going to die.

Then he was on the floor, gasping and groaning. Bewildered he looked up.

“It’s a good idea to hit the heart when you’re trying to kill a vampire, brain trust,” said Angel, staring down at him.

“Least I was doing something,” replied Spike. “Not just following Buffy around with googly eyes.”

He struggled to his feet. “Think that’s mine,” he said, snatching the stake from Angel’s hand.

“Thanks for saving my life, Angel,” said Angel sarcastically. “And I don’t make googly eyes at Buffy.”

“No, ‘course you don’t,” Spike retorted. “You’re not helping her, Angel. You should leave.”

Angel stared at him for a moment, and then grinned. “You’re jealous!” He pointed at Spike. “That’s why you’re always telling me to leave town.”

“I am not,” snarled Spike. “I just want you to leave ‘cause I don’t bleeding like you. How many times do I have to say it?”

Angel let his gaze drop to the dust on the floor. “So who was that?”

“That,” said Spike, “is the, or rather, was the right hand man of the Master. Because I killed him, the Harvest will have to be postponed.”

“You killed him?” said Angel.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. You killed him, but I was in control, another minute and I’d—”

“You’d be the one dirtying the sidewalk.” Angel laughed softly and turned away. “Way to go, Spike. Good job. See you around.”

Spike clenched his fists and growled. He hated it when Angel was right.

~*~*~*~

“Angel!” Buffy called as soon as she saw him walk into The Bronze.

He smiled and walked over to her. “Hey, Buffy.”

“Not here to tell me about some big bad heading my way, are you? ‘Cause I really just want to dance, you know?”

Angel thought of what Spike had said. It was true, he wasn’t focussed on preventing The Harvest, he just wanted to spend time with Buffy. He stroked her hair. Who could blame him?

“Not so sure about the dancing,” replied Angel.

“You can watch.” Buffy glanced around the club. Was Spike in here too? She hadn’t seen him since she’d confronted him. Her stomach knotted at the thought that she might not see him again. She needed to know why he’d followed her from L.A.

~*~*~*~

Spike knew that it would be suicidal to go back to the Master’s lair. He lay on the bed in his crypt and tossed and turned as he thought of what to do next. It wouldn’t be long before the Master selected another vessel. His thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Buffy. He’d nearly gotten himself killed tonight. He’d been sloppy and stupid. If Angel hadn’t come along there was no doubt that Luke would have killed him.

He shuddered. If he had died, would that mean that Buffy would still die too? Although he knew that she had been revived, the thought of it still terrified him. He’d have to be more careful and take his time to pick the right moment.

Strolling though the cemetery one night, Spike saw Buffy and Angel walking along hand in hand. He growled softly. What the girl saw in Captain Forehead he’d never know, but she was young and impressionable. Too young. He waited until the couple had gone their separate ways before catching up with Buffy.

“Hello again,” he said when he got beside her.

“Spike,” said Buffy. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Been busy, you know, with this and that.”

“It’s been quiet since Angel killed the Master’s vessel,” Buffy said, glancing at him.

“What? Angel said he killed the vessel?”

Buffy stood still. “Why? Are you saying that he didn’t?”

“Um…no,” Spike replied. “But I found him first, and I took out the vampire who was with him.”

Buffy chuckled. “Some manly pride being hurt there, Spike? Angel got the main man and you just got the sidekick.”

“No way!”

They began to walk down the street. The silence stretching uncomfortably between them.

“How long have you been watching over me?” asked Buffy quietly.

“Huh?” Spike looked off, unable to meet her eyes.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, pet,” said Spike, beginning to increase his pace.

“In the asylum,” called Buffy, standing still. “It was you who told me to lie, wasn’t it?”

Spike stopped but didn’t turn around. He shuddered at the thought of what she’d gone through in there because of him.

“How long have you known me? Since I was called, like Angel?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m nothing like Angel.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Buffy.

Spike sighed. “I know, pet. I know.” His voice sounded weary. “All your life,” he added quietly before resuming his walk.

Buffy’s mouth fell open. “But why?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.” He glanced back briefly. “Maybe I won’t. I will tell you one thing though. You should stay away from Angel. He’s not what you think he is.” Spike ducked down an alley and out of sight.

Buffy raced after him and Spike turned around to see her brandishing a stake at him. “I know you’re a vampire! So tell me why I shouldn’t stake you?”

Spike opened his arms wide and smiled lopsidedly at her. “Do your job then, Slayer.”

She hesitated and slowly lowered the stake. “Why is a vampire watching over me?”

“Asked Angel that too, did you?” Spike scowled.

He waited for the shocked expression but to his dismay, she simply shrugged. She was closer to the broody git than he’d thought if she’d already sussed out what he was.

“I know that he’s a vampire,” whispered Buffy.

Closing his eyes, Spike said, “But you hold hands with him – you don’t threaten him with sodding stakes.” Oh, way to go, Spike. Could you sound more like a pathetic, jealous pillock? When he re-opened them, he saw Buffy staring at him incredulously, and so quickly added. “Anyway, like I said before. I’ve got your back.”

“Why?”

“Jesus!” Spike looked to the sky in frustration. “Can’t you just let it bleeding drop?” One glance at her face told him no. “I killed a couple of slayers in my time – maybe I just reckoned it was time to help one?”

Before she could reply, he spun around and ran down the alley lightning fast, vaulting over a chain-link fence and disappearing into the darkness. Buffy stared after him for a time before putting the stake back in her pocket and slowly making her way home.

~*~*~*~

Buffy gazed at her reflection in wonder. Is that really me? The dress was just perfect, so soft and floaty. The cream complemented her complexion, emphasizing her soft golden tan. Her mom had helped her put her hair up and now all but some loose tendrils were swept away from her face.

Her stomach flipped with excitement. Best of all, Angel had said that he’d meet her there. She frowned as she thought about Spike. He was also a vampire - she knew that now - but she was puzzled about why she couldn’t sense that he was. Her slayer senses were off with regards to Angel, probably due to his soul, but Spike?

She shook her head. No need to think of him now. She was going to Spring Fling. She had a beautiful dress. Her friends would be there. Buffy was also sure that even if she didn’t see him, Spike would be there too. She kind of liked the thought of him watching over her and grinned at her reflection. He was like her security blanket. Several times over the past few weeks, when she’d been in a tight spot, he’d appeared, with his leather coat swirling around as he fought and his white hair gleaming in the moonlight.

He kept trying to convince her to stop dating Angel, growling in frustration when she just ignored the comments and left him standing there each time. When she’d asked Angel about him, he’d looked shifty, but had merely said that they’d known each other a long time. The Watchers’ Diaries had filled her in with the bloody pasts of both her vampiric friends. She hadn’t told Giles about Spike yet. She wasn’t really sure why. Willow and Xander didn’t know that Spike was a vampire.

The doorbell rang and her mom called out to her as she walked to the door.

“They’re here!”

She took a last look at her reflection, blowing it a kiss, before she ran downstairs to her friends. Only it wasn’t Willow or Xander. It was Giles. A very distressed looking Giles. She halted halfway down.

“Buffy, we need to talk,” he said gravely.

“Do you have overdue library books?” Joyce asked her. “How much do you have to owe for the librarian to call by the house?”

“Mom, please,” said Buffy. “Can I talk to him alone?”

“All right, all right. But any fees are coming out of your allowance, young lady.”

Giles forced a smile at Mrs. Summers. “Since I’m chaperoning tonight, I’ve volunteered to drive some of the pupils to the dance – you never know what’s lurking on the streets.”

“That is very kind of you,” replied Joyce still looking a little bemused. “You do hear some terrible stories.”

They waited until her mom had disappeared into the living room and then they walked into the kitchen. “What’s lurking on the streets? God, Giles, could you be more suspicious? And please don’t tell me that the world is going to end.” Buffy held out the skirt of her dress. “I’m going to Spring Fling and to hell with the world!” She twirled around.

Giles grabbed her arms. “Listen to me! This is serious.”

Buffy pouted. “It better be life or death ‘cause Mom paid a fortune for this dress and—”

“It is,” Giles interrupted. “Only this time…” He swallowed hard. “This time…”

“Giles, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

Giles met her eyes. “Only this time, Buffy, it’s life or death for you.”

“What?” She sat on one of the kitchen stools with a thump. “You’re joking, right? I mean it’s life or death every time I patrol.”

“I’m sorry.” Giles sat down next to her. “There’s a prophecy…”

“What does it say?” Buffy’s eyes began to fill with tears. She knew what he was going to tell her.

“It says that you will die tonight.”

Buffy’s hand flew to her mouth. “No. It’s wrong. It can’t be. I’m only sixteen, Giles. I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t,” said Giles firmly. “Not if I can possibly help it. I think that we’d be better at the library, don’t you? Your mother…”

Buffy stared at him blankly and then gathered her thoughts. “Library. Right. Good. Wait, Willow and Xander…”

“Are on their way there now. I called them and told them to meet us there. I wanted to come to tell you while we were alone. Come on, I’ll drive you there.”

They made their excuses to Buffy’s mom and left for the school.

~*~*~*~

Angel was running along the streets towards the school when Spike stepped out in front of him.

“Get out of my way, Spike. I don’t have time for this.”

Spike looked him up and down, taking in Angel’s shirt and jeans. “Thought you were taking Buffy to that dance – that Spring whatsit?”

“Fling,” supplied Angel.

Spike snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” He scowled at his grandsire. “I hope you’re not standing her up.”

“Holy crap, will you make up your mind? I thought you didn’t want me to see her.”

“Well, I don’t, but I’ll kill you if you don’t turn up when I know that you said you would.”

“Can it, Spike. Buffy’s in trouble.”

Spike’s whole demeanor changed. “What’s going on?” He grabbed Angel’s arm. “Tell me!”

“It’s the Master.”

“I thought I stopped him getting free,” said Spike.

“I stopped him,” corrected Angel. “Giles found a prophecy. It says that Buffy will die tonight.”

Spike began to shake his head violently. “No, no way. She’s not dying. What else did it say? Did it say how?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m going over to the library, to help Giles and the others find the solution to this. It said something about the Anointed One leading her into Hell.” Angel pushed past Spike and ran on.

Spike let him go. “That’s why she died, you sodding coward. Too much ‘let’s look at the books’ and not enough ‘let’s fucking kill something’.”

He racked his brain trying to remember what Buffy had told him about the night she had died for the first time. Drowned! She drowned. Spike knew where to go. He needed to stop by his crypt for some weapons first. He cursed under his breath as he ran. It just had to be in the farthest cemetery from where the Master’s lair was, didn’t it? Still, Buffy was safe in the library. He had time.

~*~*~*~

“So that’s it?” said Buffy. “I die tonight. There’s nothing we can do?”

Giles shook his head. “Apart from keeping you here – no, I’ve found nothing that can deny the prophecy.”

“Staying here sounds like a good plan,” said Willow through her tears.

They were all sitting around the large table in the library, apart from Angel who was leaning against the counter.

Buffy shook her head. “I’ve got to go, Will. If I don’t hundreds could die – will die.” She stood up, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “I knew that being the Slayer meant that my life expectancy sucked, but I had hoped I’d at least graduate high school.” She smiled weakly. “Um…I guess I’ll…”

She couldn’t finish, because she wouldn’t be seeing any of them again. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying as Willow and Xander hugged her. Once free from them, she turned to the door only to find herself enveloped in Angel’s arms. She clung to him tightly. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

She pulled away from him and strode towards the door, picking up a crossbow and bolts on the way.

“Buffy! I’m coming with you,” said Angel, following her.

She whipped around. “No! I need you to promise to keep them safe. If I…if I die, they’ll need you.” She turned and ran out the doors.

A small boy appeared almost immediately. He held out his hand, so she took it and allowed him to lead the way.

~*~*~*~

Spike’s mouth tightened into a grim line as the entrance to the Master’s lair came into view. I should have killed the bastard weeks ago. Bleeding coward! I’m as bad as sodding Angel. He skidded to a halt when he saw the Slayer and a little boy disappear inside. “No!” he roared, vamping out, legs pounding on the ground as he ran as fast as he could after them.

Although they’d only been a few seconds in front of him, he caught no sign of them as he scrambled his way down the tunnel. “Please don’t let me be too late. I can’t watch her die again.”

Spike rounded a corner and almost knocked over the small boy who had led Buffy there. The Anointed One. With a feral growl Spike grabbed the child’s head and ripped it from his shoulders, before it disintegrated into dust. He wiped his hands on his jeans and moved more cautiously now. The Master was close. He could feel him.

“You are not the hunter. You are the lamb.” The Master’s voice drifted up towards Spike.

“You know, for someone who’s all powerful, you sure know how to hide.”

Buffy! She was still alive. Not much farther and he’d be there.

“I’m waiting for you,” replied the Master. “I want this moment to last.”

“Well, I don’t.” Buffy tried to move away from the Master but she couldn’t. He grasped her neck.

“You’re the one that sets me free.”

She could feel the sharp edges of his teeth on her neck. A solitary tear slid down her face. She’d failed.

“No, I’m the one that sets you free!” said Spike as he stepped behind the Master. “This ends now!”

The ancient vampire turned around, lowering his hand, forcing Buffy to bend almost double, but keeping her securely in his grip. “With one flick of my fingers, I’ll snap her pretty little neck.”

Spike growled and swung the honed blade of the axe with all of his might. He grunted as it hit the Master’s neck, and almost fell over with the momentum as it sliced cleanly through. “For future reference, you ponce. Don’t talk – just do it! Have you never seen the bad guys in the movies? They always talk too much.”

He let go of the axe and fell to his knees next to Buffy. To his relief, she lifted her head and gazed up at him. “Spike. You saved me.” She wrapped her arms around his body and sobbed in earnest.

“Shh, pet. It’s all right. Ole Spike won’t ever let anything hurt you. I promise.”

He held her, rocking her gently in his arms, until her sobs subsided and then helped her to her feet. She kept tight hold of his hand. Spike kicked the severed head a little farther away from the torso, just in case.

“He didn’t dust?” Buffy’s tearstained face looked up at him.

“No. I think his bones need burning or some such. I think we can leave that to your Watcher.”

They were almost at the entrance to the tunnel when Xander and Angel ran up to them.

“She’s all right,” said Angel. “She’s alive.”

“She’s right here,” said Buffy firmly.

Spike chuckled. That’s my girl.

“Spike saved my life. If he hadn’t been there…” Her voice hitched.

Spike squeezed her hand. “Hey. No need to go down that way of thinking, is there? You’re alive and the Master isn’t. That’s all that matters.” With his free hand, he gently stroked her cheek. “Now go and tell your Watcher that he has some bones to destroy.”

The girl had been through enough and he had no intention of introducing himself to Giles tonight. He dropped a chaste kiss on the top of her head and pulled his hand free.

“Take care of her, okay?” He directed this to a shell-shocked looking Xander, rather than Angel, but it was the vampire who replied.

“We will.”

Spike turned right out of the tunnel and jogged into the darkness.

Chapter Thirteen

Spike woke to the sound of his own panting, sat up in his bed underneath the crypt and growled in frustration. Erotic dreams of being with Buffy had been a part of his life since he’d gone back in time, but they had increased in vividness and frequency since he moved to Sunnydale. He thought of them as well deserved torture.

He had enjoyed the little vacation from the Hellmouth when he followed Buffy back to L.A. for the summer. She’d stayed with her dad and gone on multiple shopping trips, while he occupied his old room at Volkov and Noreen’s place. It had been nice to visit with them again, even though they were a little concerned when he finally told them the real reason he had moved away -- to follow the current slayer to the Sunnydale Hellmouth. Spike assured them that he was safe and that he was only trying to help Buffy but it felt nice to have friends who were actually worried about his wellbeing.

After a yawn and a stretch, Spike got out of bed and lit a candle. He hadn’t been needed much since Buffy started her junior year of high school. He didn’t have to worry about the Anointed One, having offed the little bugger before saving Buffy from the Master; and since Spike was now fighting for the white hats and Drusilla was gone, there had been no real threat to Buffy for a while.

Buffy had handled a freakish zombie making kid on her own and had deftly dealt with a mummy gone wild over Xander. Secretly, he’d been rooting for the mummy girl, but Buffy was just too good at her job and Xander walked about freaked out, but alive. Spike had stood at the ready to step in when the college kids tried to sacrifice Buffy, but the others had saved the night.

Mostly, he’d spent the last two months following and admiring Buffy from a distance when she patrolled. Her fighting skills were getting increasingly better and Spike was not surprised anymore at how well she’d fought against him in his own past.

But tonight, she would be helpless.

He finished getting dressed, climbed the ladder and headed out with purpose. It still felt wrong to be out on Halloween with all the people walking around, and their scents made it more difficult to track Buffy. Finally, after searching in vain for thirty minutes, he decided that the best place to look for her would be the alley where he’d seen her the last time this night had happened.

The dirty, narrow alley was already occupied when he came around the corner. A high school student dressed as a pirate threw boxes and debris around, looking for something. Spike pressed himself against the wall and hid, knowing that Buffy would show up any minute. He stifled a gasp when she rushed into the alley from the other end, dressed in her old fashioned lady’s costume with long black hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders.

The pirate laughed and advanced on Buffy, telling her the things he wanted to do to her and that snapped Spike out of his trance. Buffy trembled with fear, but when Spike punched the pirate and knocked him out, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Th…thank you, kind sir. Please, can you help me?”

Spike could hear the Scoobies’ chatter as they approached the alley. After a quick look around, he found an unlocked door to a building and waved her over. “Come this way. You’ll be safe in here.”

Buffy picked up her skirts and ran through the door that he held open for her. Once the door shut behind them, the only light in the warehouse came from the moon shining through a few dirty windows up high. Buffy shivered and rubbed her arms.

“Here, love.” He shrugged out of his coat and put it around her arms. “You’re shaking.”

She wrapped the coat around her, but took a few steps away from him. “I…I shouldn’t be here… alone with you. It’s not proper.”

“You’re safe with me. Always safe with me,” he said, backing away from her.

He sat down on a table, lit a cigarette and watched her as she glanced around the room and then let her eyes fall on him again.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“Yes.” He stood up and smiled fondly at her. “I remember the hair now. The last time I saw you like this… Well, things were different, but I remember thinking how beautiful you looked and I liked how helpless you were.” He chuckled wryly as she looked on with her head slightly tilted in confusion. “’Course, I also liked it when you snapped out it and I ended up with the wig in my hands, because it was always more fun for me when you could fight back. You kicked my arse then and I ran away. I’m not really proud of that part.”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

He crushed the cigarette under his boot and was pleased when she didn’t shrink away from him as he approached her. “It’s okay, pet.” He ghosted his hand over her dark wavy hair and sighed.

“You shouldn’t touch me. It’s not proper,” whispered Buffy, but she didn’t move away from him.

“You’re right. And that’s why you haven’t seen much of me lately. I’m there, watching in the shadows, but I don’t dare get close enough to touch you… not yet.” Spike held his hand out for her to see and said, “Now look who’s shaking.”

Gazing into her eyes, he knew the very second that the Halloween spell lifted; he watched as recognition swelled in them. Spike took a step back as Buffy pulled off the wig.

“What are you afraid of, Spike?”

“Buffy!” Xander’s voice drifted in from the alley.

Spike quickly walked to another exit and, before opening the door, he said, “You’d best see to your friends.”

He jogged away before she could stop him.

~ * ~ * ~

Spike had his feet propped up on his coffee table as he lounged in his favorite chair, a bottle of Jim Beam and a package of Weetabix at his side. He held the remote in his hand and clicked around the channels for the umpteenth time. Everything was reruns for him and TV just wasn’t as fun as it used to be.

He jumped when the door to his crypt burst open, but once he saw Buffy, he stood with a lopsided grin on his face. “There was always something missing about this place, but I’ve just figured it out. Barging in like you do. Now, this place feels like home.”

Buffy stood just inside and slowly glanced around the room. She didn’t know what had possessed her to practically break the door down and now she just felt silly. To cover for the awkwardness, she crinkled her nose before saying, “This is where you live?”

Standing up, Spike shrugged. “Yeah, home sweet home. Have a seat.”

“Uh, that’s okay.” Feeling a little bolder, Buffy shut the crypt door before taking a stroll around the room. He had a small refrigerator, a microwave, the chair and tables and a nice sized TV. “The Persian rugs are a nice touch, but Angel has a basement apartment.”

Spike scowled. “Yeah, and the broody bugger decorated it to look more like a tomb than this place does.” Buffy was fascinated by his black nail polish as he scratched his elbow and said, “So, you found me. What brings you by?”

She swallowed and looked down at her boots. She’d been trying to get information from Angel about Spike for months. Every time she brought up the platinum blond vampire, Angel would find an excuse to leave or say he didn’t want to talk about it. After the incident at Halloween, she’d been more insistent, but it had taken a few weeks before she could pin Angel down. After all that, all it took to get some answers from Angel was to threaten to hunt Spike down and ask him her questions directly.

“Well, I did some research and after looking at your history, I had to guess that you had a soul like Angel, because if you didn’t you would have been trying to kill me, not help me out. I asked Angel and he says you have a soul, but that he has no idea how you got it.”

He pushed the plush chair out further and sat on the coffee table. “Please, sit down.”

Spike wouldn’t meet her eyes, but he sat down on the table, facing the chair, and waited for her to get comfortable. “Seems like you’ve got all the answers,” he said and then raised his eyes to hers.

His eyes were mesmerizing. She’d heard of vampires who could put people in a trance-like state, but she admitted to herself that he was just very good looking and that was all the thrall he needed. It was getting harder and harder for her to convince herself that she was in love with Angel. She thought that she was, but then she’d started having dreams about kissing Spike. After he saved her from the Master, the dreams had gotten even more intense and she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“I don’t have all the answers. Like for instance, I don’t know how you got your soul.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Were you cursed with it, like Angel?”

“I’m nothing like Angel.”

“Okay. Sorry. So how did you get it then?”

Spike opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head instead. How could he explain that he was from the future and what he’d almost done to her before he took off for Africa? “I might tell you one day, but you’re not ready to hear about it yet. Just know that it wasn’t a curse. I asked for it. I fought for it.”

“Why can’t you tell me?” Buffy said, going to her feet in frustration. “I know you’ve been watching me for years, and while I know I should be creeped out by it, I’m not. But it’s not fair that you’re keeping secrets from me.”

By this time, Spike was standing too; he clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Please, trust me.” When he stared into her eyes, he could see her on the floor of her bathroom, begging him to stop. Now, he turned his back on her. How could he even suggest that she trust him?

“I do trust you. For some reason. I mean, I haven’t even told my friends or my Watcher about you.”

Spike faced her again and she was much closer than she had been. “You mean, Angel-Cakes hasn’t told any of them?”

Buffy shook her head. “He doesn’t like to talk about you at all. He gets a little tick in his jaw and his eye gets twitchy when I say your name.”

“You need to tell him to leave town,” he said abruptly.

“Who, Angel?”

Spike nodded.

“I’m so not telling my boyfriend to leave town.” Buffy’s brows furrowed as she studied him. “Okay, now you are going all twitchy. You can’t be jealous. I mean, you barely even talk to me.”

Spike’s heart soared at the sad look on her face. Did she want him to be jealous? If she only knew. This was all new territory. The vulnerability in her eyes. The hesitation and even the soft way she spoke to him. Angel had taken all that away from her the last time around and Spike was going to make damn sure he didn’t take it from her again. The trick now would be to keep the slayer, who seemed to be developing a crush on him, far enough away, long enough for her to grow up just a little bit more. She wasn’t emotionally ready for the very adult feelings he had for her. Spike had never been on the receiving end of a crush before and he had no idea how to handle it.

“Listen, love. You are an incredible person. You’re beautiful, vibrant, powerful, and inside you are strong and determined. All things that I can’t help but admire, but you’re too young yet for a relationship. You should be going to parties and dances with boys your own age and having fun, not stuck stealing kisses with the likes of Angel in cemeteries.”

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and stood with her feet planted apart. “Angel doesn’t think I’m too young.”

“That’s the whole fucking problem!” Spike bit his lip and tried to calm down. For a split second, fear had replaced her anger and he hated himself for causing that kind of reaction in her. “Look, I’m sorry, but Angel is no good for you. He has no business touching you and he’s only going to end up breaking your heart. You. Deserve. Better.”

Buffy sighed and blinked slowly before she turned and went to the door. She stopped after opening it and looked at him. “Thank you for keeping me safe at Halloween when I couldn’t protect myself. I’m a big girl now though. You don’t need to follow me around. I can take care of myself.”

He nodded. “I know you can. You’re incredible when you fight.”

Spike hoped that would be enough for her that he would admit that she could take care of herself, because he wasn’t about to agree to stop looking out for Buffy. No matter what she said.

A/N: Must thanks to our betas: Slaymesoftly and Carol.



Spike sat in his car in the deserted high school parking lot, watching Giles and the teacher, Jenny, leave the school. The watcher took quick steps, ushering Jenny to his own car, and started the engine. He’d been tempted to seek Giles out many times recently. Giles might be the one person who could help him figure out why he’d gone back in time. He just wasn’t ready to tell anyone his secret yet. Who would believe him anyway?

Giles might.

Spike loosened his death grip on the wheel and followed Giles home at a safe distance, even though Spike knew it was pointless. He wasn’t going to get a chance to catch Giles alone tonight. He’d never expected that Giles would have a date, even on a Friday night.

The plan was to approach Giles while he was alone and introduce himself. If anyone might be on his side about trying to get Angel to leave town, it would be Buffy’s watcher. As Spike sat in his car, staring at Giles’ apartment, he realized that as plans went, this one sucked.

Buffy would hate Spike for going behind her back like this. He hadn’t even worked out what he would say to Giles. “Hello, I’m Spike. William the Bloody. I’m a vampire, but I’m harmless and I have a soul like Angel, but you need to make Angel go away.” That just didn’t sound right. And should he warn Giles about the curse? His girlfriend, Jenny, knew about it. Spike remembered that much; Angelus had gone on and on about how he killed the woman because she’d been working on a spell to stuff his soul back into him.

He drove off, determined to find another way and found himself on autopilot, heading for the Bronze. Buffy would probably be there. Knowing that Angel would be there too left a foul taste in his mouth, but he had to make Buffy see reason.

As was usual for a Friday night, the Bronze was wall-to-wall people at 9:00 P.M. Most of the kids were too young to get into a real nightclub and the Bronze was the only place they could go. He took a seat at the bar, ordered and swiveled around to watch the dance floor.

He smiled fondly when he saw her out there with Willow and Xander. The first time he’d laid eyes on her she’d been dancing in that very spot.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” Angel suddenly said as he stood beside him.

“What does it look like I’m doing, you git? I’m having a drink.”

“It looks to me like you’re undressing Buffy with your eyes.”

Spike chuckled. “Yeah, you would think that, because that’s where your depraved mind is always at.”

“Shut up.”

Well, this was interesting. Spike looked long and hard at Angel and could see the twitching eye that Buffy had mentioned. Angel looked ready to tear him apart. Spike stood up.

“I’m not going to shut up until you learn to keep your bleeding paws off Buffy. She doesn’t need that from you.”

Angel shoved Spike and said, “How do you know what she needs?”

Buffy rushed up and got between them as the two vampires faced off over her head. “Okay, break it up, guys.” They continued to glare at each other. “I mean it.”

“You need some help here, Buff?” Xander asked as he came up behind her. “And who is this guy?” He nodded towards Spike.

“No. Everything’s under control. Isn’t it?” One by one, Buffy fixed them each with a menacing glare.

“It’s fine, Xander,” said Angel. “This guy was just leaving, weren’t you?”

Ignoring them both, Spike pleaded with Buffy with his eyes. “I need to speak with you. Alone. Right now.”

Gazing at him for a moment, she sighed and then shook her head. “No. I’m busy.” She locked her arm with Angel’s. “I’m on a date with my boyfriend and he was just about to dance with me. Weren’t you, honey?”

Spike put his hand in his pocket and gripped his trusty stake. What he wouldn’t give for the opportunity to drive it through the smug looking ponce’s heart. Instead, he stood by and watched them walk to the dance floor. In all the time Spike had seen them together, he’d never heard her call Angel honey and it didn’t sound genuine. Buffy was staring at him from the dance floor. Was she trying to make him jealous?

He didn’t even realize that Xander was still standing there until the boy said, “Again, I ask, who are you?”

“Name’s Spike—and I know you’re Xander.”

Spike struggled not to vamp out as Xander sat on the bar stool next to him. As if his night wasn’t already horrid enough.

“I know you helped to save her from the Master, but Buffy won't talk about you. Are you stalking her? ‘Cause, I gotta tell you, that’s probably not the smartest thing to do. She could kick your ass in two seconds flat. You wouldn’t know what hit you.”

“I’m not stalking her.” He looked at Xander and an idea began to form. Who did Buffy listen to? Her friends of course. Buffy would be turning seventeen in just ten days. He had only ten days to get them to break up. He might not like Xander, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Listen, mate, let me buy you a drink.”

Xander eyed him wearily and after a few seconds, he shrugged. “Sure, I’ll have a Mountain Dew.”

When Xander took his first sip, Spike said, “Angel is bad news.”

“What do you know about Angel?” Xander asked cautiously.

“Everything. I know he’s a vampire with a soul and I know things you kids don’t. Hell, I even know things about Angel that he doesn’t know about himself.” Spike sniffed and then drank down the last of his beer. He stood up and put a hand on Xander’s shoulder. “If I were you, I’d strongly urge Buffy to dump him.” Spike leaned in closer to Xander’s ear. “He’s dangerous.”

From her vantage point in Angel’s arms on the dance floor, Buffy had watched the exchange between Spike and Xander. Her attempt to make him jealous by getting cuddly with Angel hadn’t worked at all and now she was dying to know what Spike had told Xander. She sighed when Spike turned to leave, but she gripped Angel a little too tight when she met Spike’s eyes across the room.

Now that she saw the gleam of anger in Spike’s eyes, she didn’t think it had been a good idea to try to rub her relationship with Angel in his face. She tried to tell herself that she loved Angel, but even before Spike had come to her rescue from the Master, she’d been thinking about him.

The more Spike tried to distance himself from her, the more she wanted him to want her. There had to be something wrong with her to be attracted to vampires. Even ones with souls. Even ones that had saved her life a couple of times.

Spike turned on his heels and stomped off. She continued to grasp Angel as she watched the blond vampire exit the building.

“You sure have a good grip,” Angel said.

“Oh, sorry.” She let go of him and tried to smile but failed. “You know what, I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll walk home.”

“Get your coat. I’ll walk with you.”

She shook her head. “That’s okay. Do me a favor and let Willow and Xander know that I’m going home. And maybe you could walk with them when they leave to make sure they get home safely.”

Angel nodded, gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Uh, sure.”

Keeping her steps slow and steady, she headed for the exit. Once she was through the doors, she quickened her pace, even though she had no idea where Spike had gone. She’d just gotten past the building when Spike said, “Looking for someone?”

Buffy paused, her heart pumping faster. “No. I’m just on my way home.”

He pushed off the wall that he was leaning on to walk with her when she started moving again.

“Um, isn’t Revello Drive that way?” Spike pointed over his shoulder.

Inwardly, she groaned. “I’m taking the long way.” He kept walking with her as she went around the building and headed for home. “What were you talking to Xander about?”

“Hmm, I didn’t think you’d noticed. What with being attached to your boyfriend on the dance floor.”

“Oh, I noticed. And I also noticed how jealous you were of Angel when you saw us out there.”

He didn’t answer her. As they walked along, the silence that dragged on became uncomfortable. When they reached her porch, he went up the steps and stood with her at the door.

“There are things you don’t know about Angel,” he finally said.

“You think I don’t, but he’s told me about Darla, Drusilla and you. I know the things that he’s done and I know that he’s been trying to redeem himself by doing good.”

Spike shook his head. “It’s not enough. He’s still dangerous. A walking time bomb with fangs.”

She scoffed. “Oh, come on. Angel loves me. He told me so. You’re just jealous.”

A growl turned into a frustrated shout. She was fascinated with the play of lines across his face as he vamped out. She knew she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. He flinched when she reached out to touch his face.

“I’ve seen so many vampire faces. They’ve always disgusted me, so why does yours look so… interesting?”

In an instant, he’d changed back. “Listen to me, please. I don’t want you to get hurt. Angel is not the one for you.”

“What does it matter? You keep telling me you aren’t interested. Why do you even care?”

“Because I do,” he said emphatically.

She put her hand on her neck and tried to squeeze the tension away. “I can tell that you mean it, but I’m sorry, that’s not good enough. Angel loves me and I won’t break up with him just because you say I should. You’ve got to give me a better reason than that.”

Spike inhaled and closed his eyes. Buffy could clearly see that there was a war going on inside him and a trickle of fear went down her spine. Was he fighting the urge to hurt her? She gasped when he opened his eyes and grabbed her shoulders. The kiss was so unexpected. She should fight him; make him stop. Guilt washed over her even as she relaxed in his arms. She had a boyfriend. But he never kissed her like Spike was kissing her. A buzz of pleasure went from her lips straight to her stomach and continued down to her navel and then between her thighs.

When she pressed against him and made a tiny noise in her throat, he pulled away from her, staring at her with shock and regret in his eyes. She hated that look. It was as if he was ashamed of kissing her, when she should be the one to be ashamed for liking the kisses of another vampire and letting someone who wasn't her boyfriend kiss her.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. That shouldn’t have happened. It just proves that I’m right. You’re a teenager with a healthy amount of raging hormones. You shouldn’t be allowed near Angel.”

Angrily, she wiped at her mouth. “Well then, I guess it’s not a good enough reason to break up with my boyfriend.” She unlocked the front door and went inside. Before she closed it, she said, “Let’s just say it never happened.”

Even she jumped at the force of it slamming. Buffy leaned against the door, but didn’t have time to take all that had happened in as her mother came running down the stairs, wanting to know if she was okay.

~ * ~ * ~

Spike stood by his favorite tree for another hour. The curtains were closed to her room, but he could see her silhouette as she moved around. He felt terrible for kissing her -- she was only seventeen – and even worse about putting his foot in his mouth with his words after the kiss. He’d watched enough talk shows over the years to know that you should never throw the fact that a teenager was a teenager in a teenager's face. And it wasn’t a very smart thing to blame her feelings for Angel or him on raging hormones, though he was right on the money there.

He put out his latest cigarette and looked at the window again. The part of him that loved Buffy with every fiber of his being raged at her words about Angel saying he loved her. He wanted to shout at the window, that only he loved her like she deserved. That he was the one who’d never left her. But it wasn’t true. He had left her. In his time period, he had raced off, telling himself it was for her own good. And it turned out that it was. He got a soul and a second chance to make things right.

Problem was, he knew that Angel really did love her, even if it was just fluffy puppy love on Buffy’s end. She took that moment to open the curtains and look down on him. Frowning, she quickly shut them again. The light went off, but he didn’t budge from his spot by the tree.

He needed time to think, but time was running out. Should he go to her watcher now? Should he wake Buffy up and tell her about Angel’s curse? Both options seemed pointless. The watcher didn’t know him from Adam, and he wouldn’t trust a vampire to tell the truth. Buffy would think it was a lie to get rid of Angel.

Angel – that was it! He would believe it. Spike would make him believe it. If Angel loved Buffy as much as he claimed to, he would go. If Spike let history repeat itself, Angel would be taking off in about a year from now. But he didn’t want Buffy to go through all that again. He had to protect her.

He took off down the street at a jog and ended up in a full sprint, wishing he hadn’t left his car in the Bronze parking lot. Spike got to Angel’s door and tried to bash his way in, but after the last time he’d done it, it looked like the git had used what few brain cells he had and had the door reinforced.

He pounded his fist on the door. “Angel! Open up. Angel!”

The door flew open and Spike tumbled inside. “Keep it down. I don’t want to disturb the neighborhood.”

“Sit down and shut up, because I have something I need to tell you.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, boy.”

“Can it, gramps. I don’t have time for your posturing.” Spike sat down on the edge of the bed and tried not to think about what might occur there in ten days if he didn’t do some very good convincing.

“What’s so all important,” Angel asked, sitting down next to him.

“There’s more to the curse that put your soul back in your body than just getting the soul.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a clause in the soul curse. You have one purely happy moment. Ever. And the soul goes poof.” Spike wiggled his hands in the air for emphasis. “And the rest of us are stuck with an obsessed-with-ending-the-world, worse-than-before-Angelus.”

“Okay, what have you been smoking?”

Through closed teeth, Spike said, “I’m telling you the truth.”

“Time to go, Spike.” Angel stood up, pulling on Spike’s arm.

“Don’t touch me, you wanker. I’m telling you the truth. If you love Buffy as much as you say you do, then you’ll stay the hell away from her before you get the chance to have that pure, happy moment.”

“I’m not following your insane line of thinking,” said Angel, shaking his head.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Incredulous at Angel’s stupidity, he continued, “Buffy. Like the nuns you used to have so much fun with. She’s a virgin. You are madly in love with her. She’s a teenager with raging hormones. Sooner or later, she’s going to want to move things along in your relationship and there’s no way you could resist that. Believe me, I know. You’ll shag, you’ll have your…your happy moment and… it will be the happiest moment of your bloody existence. The soul takes a holiday and you will go after Buffy and all of her friends. Tormenting the hell out of them all.”

“That’s crazy!”

Spike nodded. “But true. You know it is. I couldn’t make this stuff up. If you love her, you need to get far, far away from her. Let her meet some nice kid at school to date for awhile.”

“I’m not leaving here on your word that the curse will do what you say it will. How stupid do you think I am?”

Spike sputtered and stamped down the comeback. Instead, he stood and said, “Okay, you don’t believe me. Fair enough. Go talk to Giles’ girlfriend, Jenny. She’ll confirm that everything I’ve said is true.”

“Miss Calendar? The school teacher?”

“Yes. The school teacher who also happens to be a Gypsy and more importantly, a direct descendant of the old woman who put the curse on your soul and shoved it back into your sorry carcass. She’s here in Sunnydale for a reason. To keep an eye on you.”

With a scowl on his face, Angel went to the door and opened it. “Out! Now! Before I forget that we’re family and dust you.”

Spike stopped in front of Angel and got in his face. “I’d like to see you try.” He backed away and really stared at Angel. “I’m telling you the truth. Go talk to Jenny.”

~ * ~ * ~

The next night, Spike was taking a stroll in his cemetery, hoping that something evil would come his way. He needed to kill something. A whole herd of somethings.

He’d gone looking for Angel right at sundown, but he wasn’t at his apartment or any of the other places he could usually be found. Spike knew that if Angel couldn’t be convinced, he’d have to go to Jenny and Giles and get them to convince him. If he couldn’t get Angel to leave town and stay away from Buffy, Spike was going to have run a stake through Angel’s heart. He’d already done it to Drusilla and Darla. He really didn’t want to have to do it to Angel too. And Buffy would hate him if he did.

He was spared from thinking about it when a group of three vampires cut across the cemetery.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Spike shouted as he jogged up to them.

The tallest vampire glared at him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of our way.”

With a smirk and a rush of adrenaline, Spike went on the attack. He got the tall one right away and as his dust floated to the ground, Spike engaged in battle with the other two. One jumped on his back as he drove his stake into the heart of the other. Suddenly the weight on his back was gone and dust covered him.

Spike turned to see Buffy with a stake in her hand.

“Thanks, love. I could have taken them all but—”

He flew back, landing on his arse and holding his nose. He wanted to grin at the familiar feel of getting punched by Buffy, but the murderous look on her face stopped him.

“What the bleedin’ hell was that for?” he asked, he voice muffled by his hand.

“What did you say to Angel?”

He rose to his feet. “I haven’t seen Angel tonight.”

“Last night. What did you tell him to make him break up with me?”

Spike wanted to jump up and shout with joy, but Buffy’s sudden tears stopped him. “Don’t cry.” He let his hands fall to his side and watched her, not knowing what he should do. He never knew what to do when someone cried. If he thought she’d let him, he would fold her in his arms and hold her tight. “I’m sorry.”

She glared at him and said, “What are you sorry for? For running my boyfriend off? ‘Cause I think that’s a lie. You aren’t sorry for that.”

“No, I’m not sorry that Angel is gone. He is leaving town, right?”

Tears continued to fall, but she nodded.

“What I’m sorry about is that you had to get hurt at all. I promise you, if Angel hadn’t left town, the pain you’re feeling right now would be a hundred times worse in about two weeks.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do.”

Buffy started to pace in front of him. “Everyone is always trying to make decisions for me and I’m sick of it.” She stopped in front of Spike and narrowed her eyes. “Giles knows why Angel is leaving and even Miss Calendar knows, but they won’t tell me because Angel asked them not to. I have to know.”

Spike nodded. “You deserve to know.” Taking off his coat, he walked over to a gravestone and laid the coat on the grass. “Sit down.”

Once they were both comfortable, with their backs against the gravestone, Spike told her all he knew about the curse, but left out how he knew. She listened intently and when he was through, she shook her head. “That’s totally nuts and so unfair. And how did you know about it when Angel didn’t even know.”

“That’s complicated.”

“You’ve said that before.”

He shrugged. “One day, I’ll tell you everything. But right now, your friends are probably worried about you.”

They stood up together and with soft, sad eyes, she asked, “So, if Angel and I would have… Well you know. Then he would lose his soul and turn evil?”

“Yes. So by leaving, Angel is protecting you and protecting many innocent lives.”

“This totally sucks,” she said with a pout.

Chapter Fifteen

The door to Spike’s crypt flew open hard enough to make the top hinge come loose and it wobbled lopsidedly as the Slayer raced inside.

“Bloody hell!” roared Spike, leaping to his feet, forgetting for the moment that he was in the middle of a Passions marathon on the TV. He pointed to the door. “Look what you’ve done! And it is bleeding polite to knock you know – you can’t just—”

Buffy prodded him in the chest. “Shut up, Spike.”

“Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing his chest. If her finger had been a stake, he would have been dust right now. He smiled affectionately. The Slayer’s aim was true even when she wasn’t trying. Glancing back at the door, his smile faded. “As I was saying – you can’t just come in here and wreck my home – or I’ll start returning the favour.”

Hands on hips, Buffy glared at him. “What part of shut up don’t you understand?”

Spike began to bristle at her words. Was the Slayer destined to be shirty with him all the time, no matter what he did to change things for her? He had to stand up to her – he loved her but he needed her respect. Last time round he’d gotten her in his arms and his bed but there was little in the way of respect or love from Buffy.

“Now look h—”

“I need you to come with me, Spike. We’ve got trouble – big trouble.”

His demeanour changed abruptly. “What do you need me to do?”

“You’ve got to come with me – now! It’s Giles.” Buffy’s expression made the pit of his stomach grow cold.

“Love, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He ran through his memories. Had anything bad happened to Giles that he’d forgotten about? Angelus had tortured him but with Angel gone that had never happened. Was it like they said on those stupid sci-fi shows that he’d never own up to watching – that destiny struggles to reassert itself – that it doesn’t like being manipulated? Looking at the state of the teenager in front of him, Spike guessed it must be something truly awful.

Buffy sniffed a couple of times, blinking back tears that she refused to let fall. “He…he…”

“Come on, pet, spit it out. How bad can it be?” Cursing himself inwardly for saying such a stupid thing when living on top of the Hellmouth, he held his breath.

“He knows all about you and wants to see you right away!” Buffy blurted.

Spike laughed. It started as a chuckle and then grew into a deep belly laugh that made him lean against a tomb to keep upright. Tears rolled down his face.

“It’s not funny!” yelled Buffy. “He’s read about you in his Watcher’s Dairies and says I’ve got to stake you!”

Spike hiccoughed a couple of times as he tried to stem his mirth, and finally wheezing slightly managed to stand upright.

“I’m sorry. It’s just I thought when you came in here like a bleeding tornado.” He scowled at his door. “That there was an apocalypse or something serious.”

Buffy stood with her hands on her hips. “It is serious, Spike. I’m the Slayer. It is my sacred duty to kill vampires, and he expects me to do it.”

Leaning back against the tomb, Spike met Buffy’s eye. “Did you tell him about the soul, love?”

“What do you think?” Buffy threw her hands in the air and turned away from him. “Of course I told him!”

“And?” Spike said quietly, though he could guess the answer already.

“He didn’t believe me.” She turned back to face him. “He thinks you’re lying. That you’re an evil soulless thing and you should be killed.”

Spike couldn’t help but flinch at her words. Even after so long after the words were first thrown at him they still seared.

He pushed himself off the tomb and walked to his coat, hands fumbling in his pocket until he found his cigarettes. The ritual of pulling one out of the pack and lighting up soothed him.

“So why did you tell him?” he asked reasonably.

“I didn’t,” sighed Buffy, flopping down in his one comfortable armchair. “Xander did.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Knew I should have drained the git when Angel offered him to me back in the day. Bloody pain in the arse – that’s what he is. Clenching his fists, he suppressed the urge to growl in frustration.

“Look, why are you so bothered by it? You’re not going to stake me, are you?” He backed up a step just in case.

Buffy shook her head, and looked up at him with wide tear filled eyes.

“So there’s no problem, is there?”

Swallowing hard he moved a little further away. God, he wanted to sweep her up into his arms and smother her with kisses, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t time yet. He was afraid that it never would be and had done his best to avoid the Slayer as much as possible since they’d kissed that night. Now here she was in his crypt, gazing up at him with eyes that made his guts tie themselves in knots.

He coughed. “So I don’t need to go see the prick, do I?”

“But…” Buffy wiped at her eyes and sniffed a couple of times. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“But, what?”

“Nothing!” Buffy got up abruptly and strode to the doorway. “Just go to see him!”

“Don’t leave me hanging. But what?” Spike called out after her, tossing his cigarette to the floor and grinding it out with his heel.

Shaking her head Buffy jogged out into the sun. “But I want him to like you,” she muttered.

Inside the crypt, Spike’s face split into a grin. “She wants him to like me! Means she likes me!” His smile faded. Things were still going to be complicated. He knew how protective Giles was of his charge.

He grabbed his coat and switched off the TV. “Sod bloody Passions. I need a drink!” He stalked to the corner of his crypt, went to the lower level and dropped down into the tunnels. Willy’s was accessible from them. The door to the sewers was used more than the one to the street.

When dusk fell, Spike sauntered out of Willy’s and headed for The Bronze. He preferred to mix with humans these days – they didn’t smell quite as bad as the demon crowd – well most of them didn’t.

In his favorite seat, nursing his JD, Spike watched the kids below and smiled sadly at the memory of how he would have once happily hunted in this environment. He’d come to terms with his past sins and realized that he wasn’t to blame. The demon was stronger than he was and it revelled in its need for blood. Spike had to admit that life was a whole lot simpler in those days.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice said brightly.

“Not looking for company, thanks,” he replied without taking his eyes from the scene below.

“Do you know how lame it is to sit on your own in a club?”

The chair beside him squeaked as the owner of the voice sat down.

Sighing and cursing the fact that he was just so bloody good looking that girls couldn’t help themselves, Spike turned around and then gasped.

“Harm!” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Ooh! You know my name!” Harmony bounced up and down in her seat. “I told Cordelia that you were totally checking me out and she so didn’t believe me. But you know my name!”

“Um…I know a lot of girls’ names,” mumbled Spike, his mind racing at the thought of how he could get away from her.

“Yes, but you were staring at me!” Harmony leaned in closely, her blonde hair falling forwards and her breast almost falling out of her shiny pink top. She ran her fingers over her cleavage. “You’re staring at me now,” she breathed.

Quickly averting his eyes, Spike grunted and stood up. “Can’t help but stare when the bloody things are almost crawling out of your blouse.”

“That’s mean.” Harmony’s voice trembled and made Spike feel like a total git.

“Look, I’m sorry, pet. It’s just…well….I’ve got a girlfriend, and aren’t you a little young?” Spike turned to look at her. She’s prettier with a bit of color in her cheeks.

“I’m not a kid!” retorted Harmony, eyes flashing. “I’m graduating high school this year.

“That’s great. What I meant was that I’m too old for you. You need to find a nice boy your own age.” What, like Buffy should? A little voice in his head added.

Harmony might be daft but she wasn’t stupid and could tell a brush off when she heard one. She stood up, tossed her hair and scowled at him.

“You know, up close, you’re not a hottie at all!” She stomped off, the heels of her silver sandals clicking on the floor.

“That’s my Harm,” chuckled Spike.

He watched as she rejoined her friends and as one they turned to glare at him.

Oh, yeah. I’m still the big bad.

He sobered as he tried to remember what had happened on Graduation Day. That’s when she’d been turned. Something to do with a snake. God knows he’d listened to her bleat on about it for so long.

His eyes widened and he gripped the balcony rail to steady himself. He hadn’t taken much notice because he’d been too busy and had only let her shack up with him for the convenience of a shag on tap whenever he felt like one. He’d been too busy working with his crew to find…

“The Gem of Amara!”

He bent down and picked up his glass, downing its contents in one. He knew where it was. How could he have totally forgotten about it until now? In his first time around, he had only spent a few days in Sunnydale after Dru had dumped him in Brazil. Spike grinned when he thought of how he’d clobbered Xander – after what he’d told Giles he would have happily hit the kid again.

“Focus, Spike,” he muttered.

It would be a whole lot safer to go to see Giles with that ring on his finger – the guy had never liked him. Plus, he’d be able to help Buffy so much more if he could go out in the sun.

Spike nodded. That’s what he’d do. He’d get the Gem and then see what he could find out about this bloody snake or whatever it was that caused mayhem at the graduation.

Discarding the glass, he jogged down the stairs and out of The Bronze, unaware of the glowers he was subjected to by Harmony and Co.

a/n: Betas: Slaymesoftly & Carol. Thanks for reading!



Grunting, Buffy shoved at the door to Spike’s crypt. It scraped along the floor and she squeezed through as soon as the gap was wide enough to allow it. She glanced at the still broken hinge and scowled. Spike hadn’t mended it yet. Wiping a hand across her forehead, Buffy walked over to the chair and sat down with a thud.

What’s wrong with me? I feel so weak.

For the past couple of days she’d begun to feel strange – it worried her because Slayers weren’t supposed to get ill. When she’d asked Giles about it he’d just brushed her off with platitudes, but she’d seen him polishing his glasses as she left and that scared her. It was obviously bothering him too, so why didn’t he want to talk about it?

Spike had been conspicuous by his absence since she’d told him that Giles knew of him.

“Spike? Are you here?”

Her voice echoed back at her.

“Spike?” she repeated, quieter this time.

He wasn’t there. Twisting in her seat, she glanced around the crypt. It looked deserted. With a sigh, she heaved herself to her feet and walked to the old refrigerator that Spike had somehow hooked up to the electrical supply grid. As she pulled the door open, the stench of rancid blood was overpowering. Leaning against the wall she bent double and gagged harshly, eyes watering. The fridge was still cold – how long had it been since he’d eaten? Or added to his supply? Ice settled in her stomach that had nothing to do with refrigeration. Spike was gone.

Buffy slid down the wall until her bottom hit the dusty floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and hugging them tightly. Spike had had her back for so long, yet just when she needed him the most he had left her.

Why did I tell him that Giles knew? Is that why he’s gone?

The tears that she refused to let anyone see began to fall. She hated the fact that as soon as she’d begun to feel weak that her first thought had been to seek out Spike. Even more so, she hated the fact that she was so upset when she couldn’t find him.

*~*~*~*

Spike threw down the pickaxe and tilted his head back. “Yes!” he roared. “I’m through!”

Without the need to worry about the Slayer discovering him, Spike had decided to tunnel down from above to find the hidden tomb containing the Gem of Amara. He hadn’t been able to believe his luck when the place to dig was actually inside another old mausoleum right at the back of the cemetery, concealing him from any prying eyes. Deciding to camp out there until he had the Gem in his possession, Spike set to work with the tools he’d stolen from the groundsmen.

He’d started to dig the night he’d raced out of The Bronze and now, several days later, he was only a matter of feet away from his goal. Rubbing a hand across his face, smearing the dirt already clinging to it, Spike took a deep breath and lowered himself down into the crypt.

As he landed, his feet slipped out from under him and he fell face first on top of a skeleton.

“Bloody hell!”

He rolled off onto the floor, dusted himself down and then looked around. Spike fingered the large pendant that was fastened around the neck of the skeleton that he had landed on. Smiling wryly at how he’d originally thought that had been the gem he’d been seeking, he moved around the tomb towards where Harmony had found the real one. It took him a little while to pick it out amongst the numerous other artifacts, but there it was.

“The Gem of sodding Amara! Not gonna lose you this time.”

Slipping it on the middle finger of his right hand, Spike had a real sense of deja-vu when he picked up an ornately carved cross.

“Not so much as a sizzle.” He grinned. “Wait ‘til Buffy sees this!”

His smile faded. The vampire still had to face up to the Watcher and there was no way that old Rupe would be pleased about him being invulnerable.

He shrugged and the smile played on his lips once more. I’ll cross that rickety bridge when I come to it. Glancing down at the ring, he grimaced. “Poncey looking bloody thing.” Spike twisted it around until the stone was palm side and swapped one of his other rings onto that finger also. Now it looked like he had a plain gold band on, nestling next to the silver skull ring.

Satisfied that it was less noticeable, he shoved other rings, chains and precious stones into his pockets, cursing inwardly that he hadn’t thought to bring a bag. Still, he could always come back - no point in leaving all this lovely jewelry here; he’d easily be able to fence it at Willy’s.

Standing on the tomb, Spike managed to haul himself out of the previously hidden vault. He dragged a stone slab across the floor to cover the hole that he had made and then brushed off his hands.

In one corner, there was a pool of light streaming in from where some tiles were missing from the roof. Spike sauntered over to it and lifted his face, feeling the warm rays on his skin.

“A fella could get used to this,” he muttered, revelling in its heat.

His eyes drifted to the doorway. He’d come here under cover of darkness and he’d have to sit on his arse for another four hours or so if he were to leave the same way.

“Bollocks to it.” He’d keep the fact he had the Gem secret but four hours in here with nothing to do but watch dust motes dancing in the shaft of sunlight – what could a vampire do? Just got to get back to the crypt unseen. Not so difficult, surely?

Spike hesitated at the doorway. He knew that he’d be safe from the sun’s lethal rays, he’d worn the ring before after all, but it still felt strange to walk out into the sun. Shaking his head, he refused to let himself dream about how life with Buffy would be different now he could join her in the light. His fingers went to his lips. When he thought of the kiss, they seared as if hers had only just left them.

“Shouldn’t’ve done it, Spike,” he muttered crossly as he stepped outside. But, hell it’s so hard! She was a woman now, not a child. Her eighteenth birthday was just a couple of days away – was the time right to tell her how he felt? Should he tell her his whole story? He glared at the sky. Whatever forces sent him back to the seventies had done him no favours. If they’d sought to punish him then they surely had. Watching the love of his existence grow from a babe in arms, to a gawky kid and then into a beautiful girl that he had no right in loving at all had been torturous – and still was. But if he could go back to that time and be offered the choice – he knew what he’d say. Send me back, so I can keep her safe.

“Oh, I am so fucked,” he sighed and jogged home, anxious not to be noticed.

The door to the crypt stood fractionally open and the hackles went up on the back of his neck. He knew that he’d left it closed tight. Just my sodding luck that some git has decided to move in. Shifting his features, he growled softly. If they’ve nicked my bloody telly I’ll…

Then he caught it. The faintest whiff on the breeze. His face changed back and he moved forwards with a grin. Buffy! She’d been round to see him. Bet she thought old Spike was playing hard to get by not being here. He chuckled at the thought.

Spike pushed his way inside, making a mental note to fix the hinge, and looked around the gloomy interior.

“Buffy? You here, pet?”

He knew the answer almost before the words left his lips. The scent of Buffy was too faint for her to still be there. Raising his chin and sniffing loudly a couple of times, he decided that it had been a day at least. He wondered if she’d looked for him before that. Had she missed him? His stomach growled and he walked over to his fridge, the door was open and he wondered how he’d even managed to notice Buffy’s scent with the rancid blood’s pungent aroma filling the place.

Suddenly bone weary from his exertions and lack of food, Spike leaned back against the wall and rubbed his hand through his hair. A shower of dust and dirt followed the movement of his hand, he stopped thinking about Buffy and decided what he needed was a bloody good shower, change of clothes and plenty of blood. He dug his plunder from his pockets and stashed most of it behind a loose stone in the corner of the crypt. Keeping some back to swap for cash at Willy’s, he was whistling tunelessly as he dropped down into the sewers to go to the bar. Once he’d had his fill of blood he planned on treating himself to a night in Sunnydale’s only decent hotel. The shower he’d managed to rig up at his crypt got him clean, but a stream of cold water wasn’t exactly pleasant to wash in.

*~*~*~*

Giles watched Buffy walk slowly away with anger building inside. How could the Council still demand this barbaric and often fatal ritual to be held? The most basic of things that a Watcher and Slayer needed was mutual trust and here he was betraying that trust in the worst possible way. He hadn’t even spoken with Jenny about it.

Wearily, he took off his glasses and polished the already spotless lenses. Would his relationship with Jenny even survive when she inevitably found out the secret he had kept from her after so vocally voicing his disgust that she’d kept the details of Angel’s curse to herself?

He put his glasses back on, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and rushed out of the library. Giles knew what he had to do – tell Quentin that he would have no part of the Cruciamentum and then find Buffy and confess.

*~*~*~*

Sauntering down the street with a bellyful of the best otter blood that Willy had to offer and his pockets bulging with dollar bills, Spike was feeling pretty damn good. Now all he needed was a bloody good shower, a soft bed and a good night's and most probably next day’s sleep.

His fingers wrapped around the chain that he’d kept back from what he’d fenced at the bar. It was made of plaited strands of gold with a small emerald pendant hanging from it; Buffy’s birthday present.

Wrenched from his reverie by a scream that had him racing towards it, Spike’s legs pounded against the pavement. He hadn’t been able to resist walking to the hotel via Buffy’s house – as always hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

At first he thought the figure being manhandled by an enormous vampire was Buffy, but then he realized it was Joyce.

“Oi, you pillock! Fancy picking on someone your own size?” His eyes blazed amber as he shed his human features.

Both Joyce and her attacker turned to face him. Joyce, seeing yet another vampire, screamed again and managed to wriggle out of the creature’s grasp. On legs that threatened to give out under her, she staggered up the porch steps and into the house, slamming the door shut before sinking to her knees and weeping with shock. She shuddered with each inhuman growl she heard from outside.

The vampire glared at Spike and then at the door to the house. “You’ve just cost me my bait!”

“Bait?” said Spike, brows furrowing. He slowly circled the other vampire, trying to decide how to play the situation.

“Yes, bait,” growled the vampire. “I needed the Slayer’s mother to bring the Slayer to me.”

Bollocks, he knows who Joyce is. He forced a smirk on his face to hide the growing terror that something bad was going down. “Slayer? You?” Spike laughed derisively. “Gimme a break, mate. Take it from one who knows – killing a Slayer’s not easy. They’re smart. She would have seen through your plan of holding her mum hostage, plus it’d seriously piss the bint off. You’d never even feel the stake sink in before you were just floating in the air in a million specks of dust.”

The vampire roared and lunged for Spike, managing to land a good blow to his head before Spike had a chance to move.

“I will kill her! I am Kralik and it is my destiny!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Well, my destiny is killing some git called Kralik!” He leapt into attack, grunting when his fist hit the larger vampire square in the jaw.

“No! I was brought here to do it – not you. I spent all that time shut in a box and I won’t let you take my glory. I have killed the Council members – their test is ruined!”

“What?” yelled Spike, ducking a wild blow from Kralik. “What test?”

Fury made him even stronger and he sucker punched the vampire in the stomach so hard his hand almost touched the spine. Kralik went down like a stone. Spike threw himself on top of him and pulled out a stake from inside his duster. Pressing it against Kralik’s chest, Spike bent down low and snarled, “What test?”

“Why should I tell you? You’re going to kill me regardless.”

Spike pushed the stake in a little deeper. “Because it can be quick or it can be really, really slow. I’ll only ask once more. What. Fucking. Test!”

“Cruciamentum,” muttered Kralik. “The Slayer’s powers are gone. Let me up and we can share her!”

Kralik took advantage of the shock his words instilled in Spike and pushed the smaller vampire off him. Caught by surprise, the stake flew out of Spike’s hand and fell with a rattle on the sidewalk as Spike did the same. Dazed, Spike was unable to rise before Kralik was on him – their positions switched from moments before.

Kralik pushed the stake into Spike’s chest, just piercing the skin.. “I forgot to say that I don’t like sharing!”

Spike grinned up at him. “That right? Well, I forgot to say that I have the Gem of Amara so go on, mate. Stake me – it won’t kill me!”

Laughing, Kralik threw the stake away and wrapped his hands around Spike’s neck. “I don’t think a little jewel will help you if your head is bouncing on the sidewalk!”

Spike closed his eyes as the vampire began to twist his hands. The irony of being killed by some insane bastard on the same day that he’d gotten the Gem of Amara was just sodding typical of the luck he had. This was it – he was going to have his head ripped off then the bastard would kill Buffy. He struggled frantically but couldn’t dislodge Kralik.

Then the weight on him disappeared and as he opened his eyes, he was blinded by dust. Blinking furiously, he saw Buffy standing over him holding a stake. Spike held the back of his head as he managed to get to his feet.

“Nice timing, pet. But I had it covered.”

He tilted his head and waited for the comeback. It didn’t arrive. To his horror he saw that she was crying. “Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” Spike gently took the stake from her hand.

“I’ve been looking for you for days. Where were you?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You said that you had my back – that you’d be there for me, but you weren’t.” Her eyes were wet with unshed tears but it was the anger in them that made them glisten. “There’s something wrong with me and I needed you and you weren’t there.”

Spike caught her as she fainted. “Oh, Buffy. I’m so sorry. I’m here for you now.”

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the door, kicking it with his foot since he had no hand free to knock. “Mrs. Summers, open the door, it’s safe. The…man who attacked you has gone. I’ve got your daughter here. She’s ill and needs you.”

Spike heard the bolts sliding back and Joyce’s worried face peered out of the narrow gap that she opened it by.

“Buffy!”

When she saw her daughter in Spike’s arms, she threw the door wide open and gestured for him to bring her inside. Spike shook his head, not wanting to get an invite into the house in such circumstances.

“Oh,” said Joyce as realization dawned. “You’re the other vampire!” She stared into his blue eyes. “You look so different when you’re not…”

“Yeah, I know,” replied Spike, dropping eye contact.

Buffy stirred and opened her eyes.

Spike was spared explanations when Buffy whispered, “I’m so tired…”

“I know, love. Your mum’s going to take care of you.” He set her down onto her feet, holding her steady until he was sure that her legs would hold her. “I’ll be going then,” he said, nodding his head at Joyce. “Take care of her.”

“Wait!” called Joyce as she stepped onto the porch and put her arm around Buffy. “Who are you? Why are you helping us?”

Spike ignored her and broke into a run.

“Thank you for bringing her home,” Joyce called after him.

Slayer wanted me to see Giles – so she should be pleased that I’m going to! Got to find out what that Kralik meant!

*~*~*~*

Giles closed the door to his apartment behind him. What an unmitigated disaster. He’d gone to find Quentin and discovered that the vampire had broken free and left a trail of bodies in his wake. Giles’ hand reached for the telephone just as his door was hammered on from outside.

“Oh, good Lord! The creature has found me!”

“Giles, open the sodding door! I know you’re in there. It’s about Buffy,” roared Spike.

He walked towards the door. “What do you know of Buffy? Is she all right?”

“I’m not shouting through a couple of inches of wood. Watcher, open the door!” Spike snapped impatiently. “It’s important.”

Jolted into action by the fact that whoever it was knew what he was, Giles cautiously opened the door. He gasped and stepped back when confronted with Spike’s vampiric features. The vampire gave out a loud feral growl when his outstretched hand hit the invisible barrier that prevented him from entering.

“Invite me in,” snarled Spike.

Confident that the vampire couldn’t enter, Giles allowed himself a small smile. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I need to know what you did to Buffy, and I reckon you really don’t want your neighbors to see me, do you?” Spike struggled to rein in his temper and willed his features to change to human. “Look, Buffy told you about me. I’m –”

“Spike,” interrupted Giles. “Yes, she told me all about you.”

Spike tried a smile. “Well then, let me in.”

“Absolutely not,” replied Giles. “I’m not a young and impressionable girl. Your lies won’t work on me. A vampire with a soul. There is nothing documented apart from Angelus’s curse. Couldn’t you have even thought up an original story?”

For a second Spike’s features shifted back. “I told her the truth,” he said quietly. “And I want you to tell me the truth about why she’s lost her powers. What is Cruciamentum?”

Giles paled. “Is Buffy all right? Have you seen her? I was about to call her home when –”

“She’s fine,” snapped Spike. “Well, not fine, ‘cause something’s been done to her, but she’s safe with her mum.”

The Watcher sagged against the wall. “Oh, thank God.”

Spike’s anger was fuelled by the human’s obvious relief. He must have known what was going on.

“What have you done to her?” Spike’s voice was low; he rolled the stake around in his left hand. Hell, he wanted to hit something.

“I must warn them, Kralik is –”

“Dead.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Giles. “Ah! He raised his hand. “She said that you don’t kill – so it proves that you’re lying – either to me now or to her previously.”

“I don’t kill humans, you pillock! Demons are fair game. I’m looking out for Buffy – what are you doing? Why is she so weak?” Spike punched the wall beside the door with his right fist and gained a little satisfaction that Giles leapt backwards.

“It’s all over,” said Giles regaining his composure. “She’ll be back to normal in several days time. Now go – preferably far away from Sunnydale – before I turn you to dust.”

Spike smirked nastily. “I’d like to see you try, Watcher.” He raised the stake. “I’ll make you a promise now. I’m not leaving Sunnydale.”

“A stake won’t kill me,” said Giles, his eyes widening as he realized what had just said. A stake to the heart would kill a human as efficiently as it would a vampire.

Shaking his head, Spike said. “You know how stupid that sounded, don’t you? Like I said before. I don’t kill humans as a rule.” He turned the stake over and threw it with force at Giles. “But, I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt someone who had hurt the Slayer!”

Giles fell to the floor, clutching his calf, the stake embedded some two inches into the muscle.

“Put her in danger again, and so help me I will kill you.”

Spike turned on his heel and headed back towards Revello Drive.

a/n: Betas: Slaymesoftly & seapealsh. Thanks for reading!



Chapter Seventeen

Spike paced up and down his crypt. Graduation was fast approaching and he had no idea what to do about the impending disaster.

“Bollocks!” He punched the wall and growled as his knuckles split.

This being a guardian was beginning to wear on him. He wanted action for once not reaction. Grabbing his coat, he threw it on as he stomped out into the cemetery. The air was cool and threatened rain.

“Oh, please, do it! Fucking rain!” he yelled to the sky. It wasn’t right to be so sodding dry all the time.

“Missing your native land?”

Spike whirled around; startled that someone had gotten so close without him knowing.

“Trick?” Spike took a step towards the dark figure, scowling. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Trick walked into a patch of light from a street lamp.

Spike shrugged and feigned nonchalance. “So what brings you to Sunnyhell?”

“What normally brings me anywhere – money, power, women – not necessarily in that order!” Trick grinned. “Surprised to see you here though. Where’s Drusilla?”

Spike knew that Trick was lying. The vampire was notoriously well informed. “Haven’t been with Dru in decades – as you well know.”

Trick grinned broadly and opened his arms. “I was glad to hear you finally off loaded the bitch. So why are you here?”

Glancing at Trick, Spike’s thoughts were in turmoil. The mayor was the key to the whole Graduation Day thing and Trick’s presence couldn’t be a coincidence. He was bound to be along for the ride.

“It’s a Hellmouth – bound to see some action from time to time,” replied Spike. “And it’s nicer here than Cleveland.”

“But a little too dry, huh?” said Trick.

Spike shrugged again. “Was going for a drink – want to join me?”

“Sure. You can show me the sights.” Trick put his arm around Spike’s shoulders and they walked away.

He was pretty sure that Trick already knew exactly where everything was in the town, but Spike played along and tried to guide the vampire toward Willy’s bar.

Trick smoothed the lapels of his immaculate suit and shook his head. “Aww, c’mon, man. There’s got to be somewhere with a prettier clientele than a demon bar.”

“Well, there’s the Bronze…”

“Great – lead the way.” Trick waved a hand theatrically.

Making sure that his companion couldn’t see, Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

Minutes later they were settled on the balcony, gazing down at the crowds of young people gathered around the dance floor. Spike suddenly tensed and took an intake of breath. Trick glanced at him sharply and then followed where Spike was looking.

“Oh, the Slayer,” drawled Trick, leaning back in his chair. “Pretty little thing. I have yet to taste the sweet blood of a Slayer.” He didn’t miss the look of anger that crossed Spike’s face. “Unlike you.”

The blond schooled his expression into a more neutral one and then turned to stare at Trick. “Keep your mitts off her. She’s mine,” he said coolly.

“Ooh, yours is she?” Trick raised his eyebrows. “Man, you’ve been in Sunnydale for years and she’s still slaying. Don’t think she’s yours anymore. Fair game for anyone.”

Spike willed himself to stay calm; he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by offing Trick. He always travelled with an entourage, even if they were unseen at the moment, and Spike had no intention of getting Buffy in the middle of a fight like that.

“Whatever,” he said eventually.

“Won’t matter what happens to her soon.”

“That why you’re in town? Something big brewing?” asked Spike, trying not to stare as Buffy swayed to the beat of the music.

“Yeah. You want in?” asked Trick.

Shaking his head, Spike met Trick’s eye. “Don’t think so. I don’t play well with others anymore.”

“I’d heard that,” replied Trick, confirming Spike’s earlier suspicion that Trick knew what was going on.

“Had enough of being someone’s sidekick. Angelus, then Dru. I like doing what I want, when I want.”

“Including killing our kind.” It wasn’t a question.

Spike quirked a brow. “Sometimes. Got a problem with that?”

Trick grinned. “Hell, no. Too many of the damn things all over the place.”

He picked up his bottle of beer and held it towards Spike, who chinked his own against it and nodded.

“I’ll keep out of your way – but a heads up when it’s about to go down would be appreciated,” Spike said.

“Sure thing,” replied Trick.

They both knew that he was lying.

Spike stood up and nodded, before walking out as casually as he could manage. Trick and his cronies would be out hunting for their dinner soon, and he wanted Buffy and her friends off the streets.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Buffy spotted him and began to move towards him. Almost imperceptibly, Spike shook his head and stalked out, relieved that she didn’t call out to him.

He waited in the alley for her to come out of the building.

“Buffy,” he whispered as she glanced around. “Over here.”

She marched up to him. “Okay, what gives? What was going on in there? Who was the vampire that you were with?”

“Don’t miss a trick, do you, pet?” he said, grinning at her, enjoying his play on words.

“Can’t afford to in this town.” She put her hands on her hips and fixed him with a stony stare. “So spill.”

Tilting his head to the left, he reached out and gently pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You look beautiful,” he murmured.

“Quit changing the subject,” replied Buffy, but her voice held a smile.

“Look, do you trust me?”

Buffy met his eye boldly. “You know I do. With my life.”

Spike closed his eyes as her words from first time around rang through his mind. I could never trust you! A warm hand touched his face and he opened his eyes to see Buffy peering at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Before good sense kicked in, he pulled Buffy towards him and kissed her gently, almost shyly. As he went to break the kiss, Buffy put her hand behind his head and held him where he was. Her tongue pressed at his teeth and he opened his mouth to accommodate it, trying not to think about Angel teaching her how to kiss like that.

Spike was breathing heavier than the Slayer when they finally parted. “Oh, hell,” he muttered.

Buffy scowled. “Oh, hell? You think that’s an appropriate response to a kiss like that?” Her words were brave, but Spike could see the insecure, sexually inexperienced girl within.

“No it’s not. It was…” He broke eye contact. “It’s just…I shouldn’t have done that.”

Buffy poked him in the ribs. “I think I played a part in it, Spike. Why do you keep, saying that we shouldn’t kiss, or touch?”

He glanced back up to meet fiery hazel eyes and couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s adorable.

“Don’t laugh at me!” snapped Buffy. “Don’t’ keep treating me like a kid.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Buffy. And believe me; I know that you’re a woman.”

“So?”

Spike ran a hand over his face. “Now’s not the time, okay. It’s just not the time.”

“You keep saying that! When will it be time?”

“After graduation,” replied Spike after a pause. “I’ll tell you everything after graduation.”

Suddenly remembering the real reason that he’d waited in the alley, he said, “Look, I need you to get your mates and go home, okay? Stay in for the next couple of nights – no patrolling.”

“No way! That’s my job – that’s why—”

“You’re the Chosen One, blah, blah. Yeah, I know that, but I’m asking you.” He finally let the love he felt for her show in his expression. “Please, just do as I say this time, okay? Something’s brewing and if you patrol, your little pals will too and that might just end up getting them killed.”

Buffy took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay. But you promise to tell me everything?”

“After graduation – yes, I promise.”

“I’ll go get Willow and Xander.” She turned away.

“Be careful,” said Spike.

*~*~*~*

To Spike’s relief, the Slayer seemed to have kept her word and he didn’t see her out on patrol for the next few days. He’d done some research. Shite, it was boring, but necessary. As far as he could find out, the mayor was going to turn into some bloody great big snake demon thingy and with Trick as back-up he’d wreak havoc.

The fact that first time around, Buffy and Co. managed to stop it – albeit with the destruction of the high school, didn’t deter him in his need to prevent it. Spike decided that he needed to get to the mayor before the change. But of course it couldn’t be as simple as that could it? Oh, no. The fucker was about as indestructible as Spike was with the Gem on his finger.

His left hand strayed to his neck. He figured that nothing could survive a severed head. Now he just had to work out the best way to get to the git. No way would Trick fall for the old ‘I wanna be in your gang’ routine that Darla had fallen for, especially after his little speech in the Bronze the other night.

Trick. He had to get Trick out of the equation first. Last thing he needed was a fight with him interrupting his assassination of the Mayor. Spike fingered the ring. So far he hadn’t made use of the properties the ring offered, apart from his dash home that first night. Maybe it was time to go out in the day and check out Trick’s lair. Wherever he’d settled, Spike knew it’d be posh.

Spike found it disconcerting to wander around Sunnydale in the daylight. Undercover work was that much more difficult when everyone could see you! He’d shed the duster and even his usual black in an attempt to blend in with the humans he encountered. Suppressing a growl when a bulky man jolted against him with his shoulder, Spike pulled the baseball hat he’d stolen – no way could he bring himself to buy the bloody thing – further down over his eyes.

Ten minutes later, he glanced up at the house that Trick and his gang were using, relieved to see that it stood alone at the end of the street. The windows all had shutters on them, so maybe the nearby residents thought the place was still empty. But Spike knew different. The house positively reeked of vampires. He shifted the can he was carrying from one hand to the other and patted his pocket to check that his lighter was there.

Glancing around, Spike crossed the road and moved swiftly and silently around the building, sloshing the contents of the can around the base of the house’s wooden walls. When the can was empty, he tossed it onto the driveway where it fell with a clatter that he knew would have the vampires inside on their guard. Smirking nastily, Spike walked boldly to the front door, and banged on it with his fist. Another glance up the street revealed no one was about.

“Trick!” yelled Spike. “I know you’re in there!”

He took a step back making sure that he was in sunlight, when he heard someone inside approach the door. The surprise was that it was Trick himself that cautiously opened it.

“Spike? What the hell?” Trick’s eyes were wide as he took in the sight of him.

“Just wanted you to know that you really shouldn’t have called Drusilla a bitch. I loved that woman for a century.” Spike flicked the top of his lighter up and the flame burst into life.

“Wait!” yelled Trick. The stench of the gas fumes reaching his nose. “You’re going to burn me for calling Drusilla names?”

“Well, that and threatening to kill the woman I adore,” replied Spike.

“I never mentioned killing Dru,” protested Trick. "She's been dust for years!" Several of his minions gathered, growling and snarling behind him. “How can you be in the sun? The Gem! Fuck, you’ve got the Gem of Amara!”

Spike waved his hand. “Yeah, that I have. Oh, and the woman in question is the Slayer. No one threatens her life and walks away.”

With that he tossed the lighter towards the front door, it ignited the fumes before it hit the ground and within seconds the house was ablaze. Spike moved to the opposite side of the street, hidden from anyone’s eyes by a hedge, and watched the pandemonium that ensued. Several of the minions ran outside, so desperate to escape the flames that they forgot about the sun. By the time the fire truck arrived, all of the vampires had perished.

As he slipped away, Spike thought about what he had done. It left a bad taste in his mouth. It hadn’t been a fair fight – it hadn’t been fist and fangs pitted against each other – but it had been something that would save countless human lives. That made it right then, didn’t it? Spike recalled when Harmony had approached him in the Bronze. He smiled sadly at the memory and nodded. She deserved to live. Trick and his cohorts had killed countless times. It was just. So why did he still feel a little sick about it?

Shrugging off his dismal thoughts, Spike ran through the plan he’d devised to assassinate the Mayor. First things first, though. Time to get back into his normal attire. Throwing the cap in the last trashcan that he passed as he returned to his crypt, Spike jogged the rest of the way. He had no time to lose – he had to strike before the news of Trick’s demise reached the Mayor.

Spike knew exactly where to find him – the golf course on the outskirts of town. His surveillance had shown that the golf course was the only place that the Mayor was ever alone, refusing to have his aides from the office join him. Obviously hiring a vampire as a bodyguard had its drawbacks.

After changing his clothes, Spike went to his secret hiding place and took out a metal box. In it was his most recent purchase – a totally untraceable handgun. He liked its solid weight in his hand, and the fact that it wasn’t something that he’d ever thought of using before now. Pushing a clip of bullets into it, Spike checked the safety catch and placed it carefully in the large pocket of his duster. He grinned as he swung a short handled axe a couple of times. That was more like it. But he couldn’t risk messing this up, and shooting the Mayor would incapacitate him long enough to allow Spike to lop of his head.

*~*~*~*

Spike got to his selected position with time to spare. The strange quirks of the man ensured that the golf course was empty. All but one of the Mayor’s entourage would remain at the clubhouse while he played his round. The vampire tensed as he heard the golf buggy approaching the thirteenth tee. His left hand gripped the gun and slowly withdrew it from his pocket. He hoped that he wouldn’t be spotted before he did what he had to do.

The Mayor waved his sole companion off as the harried looking man, sweating in his business suit, drove the buggy away to get the Mayor’s usual thirteenth hole drink. He’d meet up with him on the green. Talking happily to himself, the Mayor swung his driving iron as he walked towards the tee. Spike raised the gun and took aim. He emptied the clip into the man’s back, and ran forward as his victim cried out and fell to the ground. He was halfway to him when he heard his name yelled out from behind him.

“Spike! What the hell are you doing?”

The vampire skidded to a halt after glancing at the Mayor to make sure that he was still down. Squinting in the bright light, Spike scowled. Who is it? Something passed his arm with a hiss.

“What the fuck?”

Giles was running towards him, trying to reload the crossbow as he ran.

“Bugger!” groaned Spike. His eyes widened when he looked over his shoulder and saw the Mayor struggling to his feet. Knowing that the Gem would keep him safe from the bolts that the watcher was shooting at him, Spike swapped the gun in his left hand for the axe in his right and swung it as hard as he could at the Mayor. To his astonishment, the blade got barely halfway through before it stopped. Grunting Spike wrenched it out and struck again. He lost his footing as a bolt hit him in the low back.

“Bollocks!”

“I’ll have no cussing in my presence,” said the Mayor conversationally. His grin still in place despite the fact that his head lolled to one side on his partially severed neck.

“Die, you bastard!” screamed Spike, vamping out and swinging the axe again.

This time it went clean through and the smiling face of the Mayor bounced across the grass as his body slowly collapsed.

“What have you done!” yelled Giles, throwing himself at the vampire, a bolt from the crossbow in his hand.

Spike whirled around and the bolt embedded firmly into his chest. Giles’ momentum carrying them both to the ground.

“Ow! Shite, Watcher! That stings,” complained Spike before beginning to chuckle at the expression on Giles’ face as he let go of the bolt, mouth agape.

“Y-you’re not dust.”

“Nope, not so as you’d notice,” replied Spike, wrapping his hand around the wood and yanking it out. “Got myself a nice bit of protection from pointy bits of wood and the sun.” He pointed at the sky, but Giles didn’t seem to be able to take in what he was saying.

“You killed the Mayor!” Giles was shaking with rage. “You killed a human!”

Spike took his eyes from Giles and glanced at the remains of the Mayor. “Bloody hell!” He leapt back just before a hand grabbed his ankle. “I’d get up off the ground if I were you, Giles,” he yelled, lashing out with the axe and severing the mayor’s outstretched arm.”

Giles gasped and scrabbled to his feet. “But…”

“Got anything else on you apart from wood?” yelled Spike. “Don’t think that’s going to work.”

“What is it?” asked Giles, as he fumbled to get a dagger from inside his jacket.

“Some sort of bloody demon, what do you think? Here, swap,” ordered Spike, offering the axe. “I don’t reckon you want to get too close to him…er…it.”

The pair exchanged the weapons and paused for a moment to take in the gruesome sight of the three pieces of the mayor trying to get back together again.

“I think we’d better hurry,” said Giles.

They hacked at the still animated corpse until it finally ceased to move, by which time both Giles and Spike were covered in gore.

“The remains need to be burned,” Giles stated.

“What? You knew about him? That’s why you were here?”

“No. It just seems like a good thing to do when dismembered things keep on moving,” replied Giles. “Buffy tracked a demon last night, but lost him around here so I thought I’d take a look and then I heard the gunshots.”

“You’re not the only one.” Spike stared in the direction of the clubhouse. “His aides are on their way. And what was Buffy doing out on patrol? I bloody told her to lie low for a few days.” He looked the gore spattered human up and down. “You’d better make yourself scarce. I’ll see to the rest.”

“Oh…yes…right,” Giles said. “I’ll go – but I need some answers, Spike! William the Bloody with a soul and now invulnerable to stakes and sunlight—”

“Holy Water too,” added Spike helpfully. “Haven’t tried it yet but think—”

“Shut up!” yelled Giles. He noticed figures in the distance then glared at Spike. “I know what your game is.”

“That right?” growled Spike taking a step towards him.

“The Slayer – you’re in love with Buffy.”

Spike opened his mouth, but closed it without uttering a syllable.

Giles pointed the axe at him. “We will talk.” Then turned and jogged into the woodland adjoining the fairway.

Spike rolled his eyes and regarded the pieces of mayor with distaste. How the hell am I supposed to burn you up before they get here? The aides were approaching rapidly.

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this!”

He shrugged out of his duster, spread it on the grass and then selected the largest bits he could before gathering it up and running away in the opposite direction to where Giles had gone.

*~*~*~*

Spike hung his duster from a rusty nail to help it dry. It had taken him almost an hour to wash the gore from it, but at least there was no way that the Mayor could reassemble himself now that half of him was ash. He poured himself a large glass of JD and swallowed it in a couple of gulps, hissing as it hit the mark.

Closing his eyes he thought of what he’d said to Buffy and what Giles had said to him.

Seems like I’ve got a whole lot of talking to do.

a/n: We want to thank our betas, Carol and Slaymesoftly, for their fast and efficient proofreading. And we wanted to thank the readers who’ve left reviews. They mean a lot to us.



Chapter 18

Spike slipped unnoticed into the back of the spectators’ seating and, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun, tried to pick Buffy out in the sea of crimson caps and gowns. He caught a glimpse of red hair and then the profile of his Slayer sitting next to Willow.

The principal of the school concluded his commencement speech and began calling out the names of the students. One by one, the class of 1999 crossed the platform. Spike leaned back in his chair and grinned as Harmony strutted the stage as if it were a catwalk. The future was not certain, because she still lived in Sunnydale, but at least the ditzy bint might have a chance to live a little while longer. Spike knew she had made a piss poor vampire.

Feeling eyes on him, Spike glanced around and caught Giles, twisted around three rows ahead, glaring at him. Without smiling, the vampire gave the watcher a little wave and rolled his eyes heavenward when Giles quickly turned back. When Buffy’s name was called, Spike stayed perfectly still and watched her beaming face as she crossed the platform.

His heart swelled with pride and satisfaction. The baby that had gripped his hand so tightly not too many years ago was now a high school graduate. His thoughts were nowhere near fatherly when she descended the steps and he got an eyeful of shapely calves and her high heels. Older memories of a passionate, mature Buffy flooded his mind. Memories that always over shadowed the ones of Buffy growing up. Spike shifted uncomfortably in his chair and once she was seated again, he rose from his spot to leave.

He was halfway down the concrete steps leading to the street when a shadow fell over him. Lightning fast, Spike turned to see what had caused it, glancing up when he saw the graduates gasping and pointing at the sky. With a sigh of relief, he watched the eclipse. Staring into the sun as it was overshadowed was something most vampires didn’t get to do, but he’d taken advantage of many of these eclipses over the decades, once the sun was completely covered and darkness fell. They meant a few extra minutes of hunting time and with all the humans out to get a look at the phenomenon, they were usually easy, distracted prey.

Spike heard the grating sound of the manhole cover before he saw them. By the time he got to the street, five vampires were grinning at him.

“You here for the party too?” one asked.

“Nope. No party. The mayor’s dead. And there are way too many of them, including the Slayer, her armed watcher and her armed friends.”

One of the females put her hands on her hips, her long ponytail waving in the wind. “I’m hungry. Jeff said if we showed up and helped the mayor, we could have all that we could eat.”

“Yeah,” another female said, “we’re not going anywhere.”

With a stake gripped in each hand in his coat pockets, Spike shrugged. “It’s your funeral, not mine.”

He turned to watch them walk past him and was just about to stake the two nearest him when Giles appeared at the top of the steps.

After getting over the shock of seeing the five vampires heading his way, Giles took a stake out of his tweed jacket and brandished it saying, “I knew it!” Over the growls of the vampires, the watcher added, “There was no way that there were two good vampires in the world.”

Ignoring that statement, Spike drove his stakes into the backs of the vampires and prepared to fight the remaining ones. Two turned to advance on him while one of the females rushed up the steps at Giles.

The two young vampires were no match for the decades old Spike who’d had to redo over twenty of those years. Before their dust settled, Spike was up the steps and gripping the ponytail of the vampire still fighting Giles. A chorus of students yelled in graduation victory and threw their caps into the air as Spike shoved the vampire off behind a tree and did away with her.

Spike glowered at the still panting Giles. “I don’t give a stuff what you think of me. Good or bad, I’m here to stay—and just so we’re clear, Angel is not a good vampire. His soul was a curse, for fuck’s sake.”

“And what about yours?” Giles said it a little breathlessly, but he was standing up straight now. “Were you cursed with it?”

Before Spike could answer, Jenny and Mrs. Summers appeared behind Giles.

Jenny touched his shoulder and said, “There you are.”

“Buffy is looking for you,” Mrs. Summers said. When she finally noticed Spike, her eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s you! Spike, right?”

Shifting uncomfortably and frantically thinking of an excuse to make a quick exit, Spike could only nod.

“Buffy talks about you all the time,” Joyce said. Giles and Spike stared at her with twin expressions of shock, but she seemed oblivious. “She’ll be thrilled that you came to her graduation. Why don’t you come with us and say ‘hi’ to her?”

“Um…”

“Spike has to go,” Giles interjected.

Jenny got in front of Giles. “Don’t be so rude. I’m Jenny, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” mumbled Spike.

He found himself following the little group back up the stairs. Giles caught up to Joyce and spoke quietly to her; loud enough for Spike to hear, she said, “I know what he is, Mr. Giles. He saved my life when you were busy giving Buffy those shots to make her weak, and Buffy says that he looks out for her. That’s all I need to know.”

Good old Joyce. Spike gazed fondly at her until he realized that Giles was glaring his way.

“Mom! There you are.” Buffy held her little scroll with a dark ribbon and rushed to hug Joyce.

Spike stood off to the side as multiple pictures were taken. Xander and Willow gave him curious looks every so often, but Buffy smiled shyly at him.

“Hey,” Cordelia said as she came up to the group and pointed at Spike. “Isn’t he a vam—“

“Time to go!” Buffy said. “Party at the Summers’ house.”

Buffy watched her friends go off to say goodbye to their parents and told her mom that she’d meet her at the car. With keys in hand, Joyce smiled at Spike before walking off with Jenny and Giles.

Spike had distanced himself from the group and was standing in the shadow of a tree, just out of reach from the street light above. Her heart was still pounding in her chest from being so near to him. After a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching, she walked over and stepped into the shadow with him. Slowly, the eclipse was ending and the darkness around them began to fade to light.

“Thanks for coming to my graduation.”

With a shrug, Spike said, “Know I wasn’t invited, but it’s a big day for you. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“It’s after graduation. Are you going to answer my questions?”

“Promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Come back to the house with me. We’re having a small party, but we could talk afterward.”

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know. I’m not really good with people. And you’ll be busy with all your friends.”

“You’re my friend too and I’d like you to come.”

Buffy silently begged him to say yes. She wanted to spend time with him and she desperately wanted some answers. For days now, Willow and Buffy had spent their time either talking about how much Willow loved Oz or coming up with crazy scenarios for how and why Spike had been looking out for her all this time. Giles tried to remind her that Spike had killed two slayers in the past and that his helpful ways were probably a ploy to get close so he could kill her. She’d been shocked when she’d first learned that he was William the Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers, but Giles didn’t know how long he’d been looking out for her. She doubted very much that he could keep up the ruse for that long. And he mentioned having known her all his life? She had so many questions.

“Okay. I’ll come,” he finally said. And when she jumped up in excitement, he added, “Just don’t expect me to be the life of the party.”

As giddy as she was, she couldn’t help the laughter. “That’s funny. Life of the party.” And her knees nearly buckled when he bestowed upon her the first full on smile she’d ever seen from him. His eyes lit up and she was lost in them. Giving herself a mental shake she asked, “Did you bring your car?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Let me go tell Mom that I’m riding over with you.” In her excitement she raced off, but then halted and asked sheepishly, “Where are you parked?”

“On the street, in front of the school.”

On the drive over, Spike turned up the music and hoped that she’d just sit back and listen, but after two minutes of the Ramones, she reached over and turned the radio off.

Buffy glanced out the window at the brilliant sunset and then said, “First question. Giles told me about you killing the mayor on the golf course in broad daylight and now you show up at my graduation too. How are you able to go out in the sun without getting fried and how long have you been able to do it?”

“I’ve got a little magic working on my side,” he said, being purposefully elusive. “And I’ve been able to do it for awhile now, just hadn’t had much reason to do so.”

“Until you killed that demon thing that was our mayor.”

“That was good enough reason, yes. He was planning on ruining your graduation and turning into some kind of big snake demon.”

As they pulled up to her house, Buffy asked, “How did you know—”

“Look, let’s get you inside so you can celebrate. Maybe later, we can sit down with Giles and we can all talk. There are some things that I’d like to ask him and I really don’t fancy having to repeat some of the things I’m going to tell you tonight. He’s going to want to hear it too.”

Spike got out of the car and rushed to her side to open the door for her. Unable to take her eyes off him, she got out of the passenger seat and stumbled on the curb. He caught her arm and steadied her and she couldn’t have been more embarrassed. She had the reflexes of a ninja most of the time, but something about Spike just tied her in knots and had her stumbling like a klutz.

“Sorry. It’s a good thing you’re always there to catch me.”

“Always,” he said with feeling, melting her already heated heart.

Spike got goose bumps when Buffy warmly invited him into her home, but as soon as they were in, her friends called her over and Spike was left to himself. He ended up sitting on a couch next to some kid named Jonathan, who he thought looked familiar. It dawned on Spike that the kid was one of the geeks with Warren when he’d shown up wanting information about his chip. The kid tried to strike up a conversation with him, but one death stare was all it took to shut him up. The music wasn’t too bad. Willow’s wolf boyfriend and his band played a few sets before they turned the radio on.

Buffy introduced everyone to him one at a time and he tried to play nice. When he’d teased Willow and asked if he could call her Red, she’d blushed prettily and nodded. Xander had asked what Spike wanted to call him. Biting his lip to stop from saying git, he shook his head and said that he’d just call him Xander.

Joyce ambled about the room, picking up here and there and Spike got the idea that she wanted to wrap the party up. He stood and took a serving dish from her. On the way to the kitchen, he grabbed cups from those he passed and took them with him. Seeing the back door, he decided he needed a smoke and he quietly went onto the back porch and lit up.

It was surreal to sit in the same spot where he’d once sat while consoling the distraught Slayer after she’d learned that her mom had to go to the hospital. And to think, he’d come that night to blow her head off. Here he was now, with a second chance to make things right. Every time he had a moment like this where he remembered his past, he felt even more determined to get things right this time around.

The door opened behind him, but he knew it was her and didn’t look back.

“Hey. Whatcha doing?”

He held up the lit cigarette for her to see. “Smoking.”

Buffy came and sat next to him, but scrunched her nose as the smoke wafted around her. “Cigarettes are foul.”

Spike paused with it in his mouth and stared at her as he took one last drag. Casually, he let the cigarette fall on the step below and crushed it with his boot.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Won’t smoke in front of you if you don’t like it,” he came back with a shrug.

“Thanks.” It was quiet for two beats. “Um…I don’t suppose you could suck on a breath mint after you have one, could you?”

He thought it was a strange request, but he patted his pockets and shrugged. “Sorry, I’m fresh out.”

“Oh, here. Have one or two of mine. Do you like white Tic Tacs?”

He watched in amusement, his head tilted slightly, as she pulled the little case out of her pocket. “Can’t say as I’ve never tried one before. And why are you all concerned about the state of my breath?” he asked and then popped the three tiny mints that she put in his opened palm into his mouth.

Spike nearly choked on them when after she stuck her pink tongue out and put two in her own mouth, she said, “Well, if we’re going to kiss…”

It was too much for him. He stood up and was just about to suggest that they go back inside when he got a glimpse of her vulnerable and open eyes. Taking one look at the closed door and not seeing anyone near, he held his hand out for her and led her down the steps and to the right, out of view of the windows. She leaned against the house and gazed at him.

“I’m not a high school student anymore.”

“No you’re not,” he said in a deep timber. Reaching out to touch her hair, his heart soared when she didn’t flinch from his touch. Spike moved the Tic Tacs to one side of his mouth and swallowed hard. “You are a beautiful women now.” He’d said it almost to himself, giving him permission to be with her. He’d had eighteen years of practice at keeping his distance. She looked down at her shoes. “Don’t look away when someone calls you beautiful, because that’s what you are. And you deserve a hell of a lot better than to be hiding in the shadows with the likes of me.”

“Don’t say that.” The frown on her face reminded him of the days before when she’d had so much weighing on her.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m a vampire?” She shook her head and he continued. “Soul or not, I’m walking death.”

Before her hand could reach his face, he closed his eyes and then got lost in the sensation of her hand caressing him. “I’m pretty sure it’s just not that I have a thing for vampires with souls, because I see something pretty incredible in you. Especially when you’re looking at me.” He opened his eyes and tried to stay focused as her hazel eyes took in the sight of him without hesitation, without regret, without sadness.

Buffy leaned forward and as soon as their lips met, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her with abandon. He’d waited years to do this and she felt incredible, all pliant against him. She tasted of the mints.

They broke apart, reluctantly, when the back door opened.

“Buffy?” her mother called. “Are you out here?”

“I’m here, Mom,” she said, stepping forward and into the light. “Spike and I were just talking.”

Joyce acknowledged Spike with a quick nod when he stepped into the light and she said to her daughter, “Mr. Giles is leaving, but he wanted to say goodbye to you first.”

Spike jumped when Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the steps.

“Thanks, Mom. Spike and I need to talk to him about some slayer stuff. Do you mind if we leave with Giles?”

“Buffy,” Joyce wheedled. “Do you have to work? Tonight?”

“Sorry, but evil never takes a break. Even on graduation night.”

Very conscious of their joined hands, Spike could only shrug when Joyce looked imploringly at him, though he was more than happy to put off their little talk. He just didn’t see a way out of it. He’d made her a promise and he was going to keep it.

“I’m sorry, Joyce, but she’s right. I’ll watch out for her. I promise.”

Joyce quickly glanced at their hands and then back at Spike. “I know you will and I’m counting on it.”

~ * ~ * ~

Thirty minutes later, they were settled on the couch in Giles’ apartment with the watcher sitting across from them in his easy chair. Both Buffy and Giles kept quiet as they waited for Spike to say something. He took a deep unneeded breath and directed his question to Giles.

“What can you tell me about time travel?”

a/n: We want to thank our betas, Seapealsh and Slaymesoftly, for their fast and efficient proofreading. And we wanted to thank the readers who’ve left reviews. They mean a lot to us.





Chapter Nineteen

Whatever Buffy was expecting Spike to say, that wasn’t it. He sat beside her on the couch in Giles’ apartment without a smile on his face and kept his eyes on her watcher.

“Time travel?” Giles reared back, shaking his head. “You are wasting our time with silly questions like that? Let’s get serious here and start by telling me how you’re able to walk outside in the day time.”

Running his hand through his platinum hair in frustration, Spike said, “I am being serious. But I didn’t expect you to believe it. Right then, the day walking.” He held out a pale hand and Buffy’s eyes were drawn to the black nail polish until he took off a menacing looking skull ring and turned a gold ring with a green stone up on that finger. “This is how I’m doing it. The Gem of Amara.”

“The Gem of—why does that sound familiar?” Giles said, holding out his hand. “May I see it please?”

“No!” Spike’s hand was suddenly hidden from view and as he glared at Giles, he said, “I’m not letting this little bauble get out of my grip this time. And I’m sure you have a dusty tome or two around here that will clue you in as to what it is. Look under myths and legends.”

“Where did you get it?” Buffy found herself asking, softly.

A feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She had crushed on the souled vampire for a long time now and just when it looked like he might be starting to like her too, he was acting strange. He insisted that Angel was cursed, but maybe she was too. Destined to fall for someone she couldn’t have.

Their knees touched when he turned to face her. “It was right here in Sunnydale, under the ground like buried treasure. I only took the effort to retrieve it this time because I knew it would be a help to you.”

“This time?” Giles asked.

“Yes, this time. The last time, I was Buffy’s enemy and I got the Gem so I could beat her.”

“And we’re back to time travel. You expect us to believe this?” Giles said with another shake of his head.

“Did you?” Buffy asked.

“What? Beat you?”

Spike chuckled and then reached for her hand. The thought that this man/vampire/whatever he was had once ever thought about killing her was wigging her out and when Spike chuckled and reached out for her hand, she took it out of his reach.

More sober now, Spike said, “No matter how hard I tried and even with the Gem, I couldn’t beat you. In fact you ripped it off my hand in broad daylight and if it wasn’t for the sewer entrance, I’d have been dust.”

His wry smile did something to her insides, even though she was utterly confused.

“You expect us to believe this?” Giles said. “When did this supposed fight happen?”

“Well, in this time, it won’t happen, but in my first time line, it would be happening in about four months.” He turned to Buffy, nostalgia evident on his face. “We fought on the campus of UC Sunnydale. You were magnificent as always. I think I knew, even then, that we were a match.”

Giles scoffed at that. “This is all nonsense. Time travel is impossible, but I’ll give it to you. You take the biscuit for being the vampire with the best imagination. Can’t think what you hope to gain from this.”

Glancing between Giles and Spike, Buffy could feel the tension rising in the room. Giles was pretty knowledgeable, but Spike seemed really sincere. He hadn’t said it yet, though. So she asked, “Are you saying that you really traveled back in time?”

After a brief nod from Spike, Giles rose from his seat and waved his hands in agitation. “So where is your double then? If you’ve traveled through a portal or some such thing, there would be two of you.”

“I can’t be too sure, because I was really out of it when I did the actually travelling, but I think my mind, memories and my soul just traveled back in time and into my body from the past.”

“Why did you want to travel back in time?” Buffy asked.

Before Spike could answer, Giles went back to his seat and snapped, “Just pray tell how did you accomplish this amazing feat of time travel?”

“To answer you both, I didn’t. One minute, it’s May of 2002 and I’m in Africa getting my soul shoved back into my carcass and the next, it’s 1977 and I’ve just broken the neck of the slayer from that time. I have no idea how it happened. I didn’t ask for it and it wasn’t part of the bargain to get my soul back.”

“So you weren’t cursed with your soul.” Buffy made it as a statement. He’d told her as much the last time they’d had a conversation about it, but she hadn’t really known what to think and he’d been so elusive then.

“No. No curse. I did it for you. I fell in love with you without it, but …”

Spike pointedly looked down and Buffy wondered why he was getting so choked up, even while her heart soared to hear him say that he was in love with her.

Ignoring Giles, who’d taken his glasses off to clean them as he muttered under his breath, Buffy encouraged Spike to continue. “But what?”

“But I realized … uh… through a series of events, that my love wasn’t good enough. That without a soul, I would only go on hurting you.”

Buffy wanted to continue talking about his soul, his love for her and what it all meant, but skeptical Giles wanted more and he grilled Spike for the next hour. Spike did his best to explain what had gone on and the more he talked, the more confused she got. He really believed what he was saying and something inside her told her it was true, but at the same time, it was so farfetched.

He explained how he’d come back and had to deal with what Giles called his paramour, Drusilla. And that he was crazed with guilt from the newly acquired soul and that for months, he’d only been able to wallow in his a room.

“I was there when you were born,” he told her, staring deep into her eyes. “I snuck into the nursery and you reached out to me and gripped my finger.” Giles started to talk, but Spike pressed on, effectively cutting him off. “I watched over you for most of your childhood.” He chuckled then. “Even got my roommate to go to the Ice Capades with me so I could watch you enjoy your birthday. And I was there when you slew your first vampire in that cemetery with Merrick. Angel was there too.”

Spike stopped and glanced around as if he just realized that he now had a captive audience. Buffy looked over at Giles. His arms were crossed and he had that stubborn look on his face, but he nodded to Spike to encourage him to go on.

“I followed Buffy out here to Sunnydale. I’ve been anticipating every big threat that I could remember and working to lighten her load and keep her safe.”

“And you expect us to just believe this?” Giles said.

With a shake of his head, Spike said, “Don’t expect you to do anything.”

“Then why tell us this and why now?” Giles said.

“Because I made a promise to Buffy that I’d tell her everything after her graduation, and I keep my promises to her.”

“So, twenty-two years you’ve been reliving the past and not once have you tried to get back?” Giles said.

“Well, once I got on my feet, I did spend a couple of years searching for someone who could tell me what was going on and maybe help me get back, but no matter where I traveled across the country, every lead was a dead end. No one seems to know about time travel. And then, it was the year for Buffy to be born and after I saw her in the nursery, I gave up on the idea of going back at all.”

His rough hand covered hers and he asked her, “You believe me, don’t you?”

Instantly, her eyes met Giles. He shook his head slowly and scowled at her. Last year, she would have trusted Giles over anyone else; she would have accepted his instincts. But he’d betrayed her trust when he’d given her those shots and now as she glanced at Spike she realized that she had come to count on him more than Giles. Still, it was too much to take in and make an informed decision so quickly.

“I’m not sure. I want to believe you. I think maybe I do.”

Giles pointed at Spike and narrowed his eyes. “You’ve given us all this mumbo jumbo about following Buffy around, but what proof do you have that you are from the future?”

“I don’t know what proof I could come up with—wait! How did I know about the loophole in Angel’s curse or that the teacher was a gypsy?” Spike’s eyes lit up as he said it. “Angel didn’t even know about that little extra to his curse.”

“I’m curious,” Giles said, obviously not thinking that was proof. “What would have happened had you not told Angel about the curse when you did?”

Standing up, Spike shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“Sit down!” Giles said, loud enough to cause Buffy to jump. Spike slowly sat back down, a grim smile on his face as Giles added, “If you’re telling us the truth, than you’ll have a believable story.”

Spike’s smile faded. “The first time around, Buffy and Angel got real cozy like they did this time. Only I was here with Drusilla and I was evil. I had no clue about Angel’s curse clause back then. Buffy and Angel shagged, he lost his soul and went insane, trying to torture the lot of you. Succeeded too. When he found out that Jenny Calendar was working on a way to stuff his soul back in, he… he killed her.”

Giles’ intake of breath gave Spike pause, but then he continued. “Angelus was attempting to end the world, so I sought the Slayer out and teamed up with her to bring him down. It worked and I left town with Dru, but came back when Drusilla dumped me the next year.”

“And so we became friends after you helped me?” Buffy asked when Giles stayed silent.

“No. It was a temporary truce. It wasn’t until I came back while you were in college that I got captured by the Initiative and got that chip in my head that things changed.” Absently, he touched the back of his head and winced.

“What’s this Initiative?” said Giles, perking up.

“Proof that I’m telling the truth.” The vampire’s smugness was not helping him win any points with Giles, so he added, “Get a pen and paper. I’ll tell you about things that are to come in the next year and you’ll know I’m telling the truth when they happen.”

~ * ~ * ~

Spike stopped the Desoto two blocks away from Revello Drive and stared at Buffy. Since they’d left Giles’ she hadn’t said a word. Nerves were getting the better of him and he had to know what she was thinking.

He started to say, “I—”

“So Xander is going to start dating that ex-demon that he went to prom with?”

“Yes. Anya. And if things keep going somewhat like they did before, they’ll even get engaged.”

Spike had told Buffy and Giles about the Initiative and about Oz leaving Willow and the spell that she would cast to have her will be done. He left out the part about him and Buffy getting engaged, but one day, he might tell her about it.

“And this guy, Riley, that I’m going to meet is a soldier with this Initiative group?”

“Yes, and your soon to be psychology professor is actually the head of the Initiative. A real evil bitch, that one.”

She went quiet on him again.

“You believe me, don’t you?”

“I think I do.” She leaned back into the seat and let out a tiny sigh. “Either way, I’ll know for sure once school starts. And now I’m wondering if I should tell Willow that Oz is going to leave town or if I should stay out of it?”

“It’s probably best to stay quiet. She’s going to need you when it happens though. As I said, she’s going to take it pretty hard. But it won’t be long after that she gets with the other witch, Tara.”

“Tara?” Buffy let out a soft laugh. “That’s a strange name for a guy.”

“Uh… Tara isn’t a man. She’s—”

“Willow? Gay? You’ve got to be kidding!”

Spike shrugged and then started the car. She would see it was all true, soon enough. “So, home then?”

“I almost forgot, I’m supposed to meet the gang at the Bronze. Can you take me there?”

They were silent on the ride over, but when he pulled up in front, she turned to him and stammered as she asked him to come inside with her. The Bronze was hopping with jubilant graduates, but Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a table at the far end. He wasn’t too sure that he wanted to sit around the table with them, but they’d all been pretty relaxed about him. Nothing like the first time around. Of course, he hadn’t tried to kill any of them and Angel hadn’t turned on them, so they had no reason to be wary of another souled vampire.

“Hey, guys,” Buffy had to shout as they walked up to the group. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Spike.”

After they all mumbled no, Oz grabbed two more chairs and they sat next to each other. Willow smiled softly at the vampire and then winked at Buffy. Xander took a drink from his red plastic cup and looked resigned to the fact that Buffy had found another guy that was not him. But the table went quiet as the rest of the club goers continued with the celebrations around them.

“So,” Spike said cheerfully. “What are everybody’s plans for the summer?”

That got the ball rolling and soon they were all talking over each other. Xander was leaving in two days for a road trip across country, while the rest were going to take it easy. Later, Xander made a comment that he thought there was something missing, as if they hadn’t done all they should have in high school. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Spike who mirrored her look right back at her. They smiled at each other until Xander cleared his throat.

They had decided that it was best not to tell the others about his time traveling, so he couldn’t tell them all of the things they should be glad that they had missed. It was nice having a secret with Buffy that did not include sexcapades in his crypt. Although, that wouldn’t be so bad.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Buffy suggested that Spike go with them somewhere tomorrow.

“Where?”

“The beach. We’re having a whole day there, including a bonfire at the end of the night.”

Spike agreed to meet them there when the sun went down. He didn’t want the others to know he could go out in the sun and didn’t plan on going out on a regular basis. If other vampires caught wind of his little accessory, he’d never have any peace and he’d spend all his time fighting them off to keep the Gem.

After a night of watching her dance and sitting next to her while she talked with her friends, he was ready to get her alone again and he enjoyed the silent ride home. Especially when she reached over and grabbed his hand. It was surreal to have her in the passenger seat of his car, holding his hand and smiling shyly at him from time to time.

He walked her to the door and when he tried to give her a quick peck on the lips, she grabbed his head, went on her toes and kissed him properly. Feeling her strong hands gripping his shoulders and moving down his back was a welcome and familiar thrill that he’d thought never to experience again.” All too quickly, he was feeling like he was losing control of the situation and of himself.

Just as he was reminding himself that she was an innocent, Buffy pressed her body against his erection. His hips jerked forward, wanting more and she fell back against the door, her eyes shining with lust, her lips parted and her chest rising and falling.

“We might be going a little too fast here,” Spike said, putting some distance between them.

She continued to use the door for support, but shook her head. “Not too fast. You’ve been in a love with me for a long time, haven’t you?”

With a quick nod, he swallowed as she licked her lips and he said, “Seems like I’ve always loved you, but I know that hasn’t been the case with you. We should slow down.”

“Why did you let me date Angel?”

“I didn’t let you. You two were hell bent on it if I recall. And I did stop it before he lost his soul.”

Buffy looked down at her feet. “I would have gone out with you, if you’d asked.”

Spike put his arms around her, hugging her tight and moving them away from the door. He put her head in his hands and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs, looking deeply into her eyes.

“You were too young. I didn’t want to be your first love or your high school sweetheart. I want it all. I want the real thing and I was willing to wait until the time that you were old enough for that.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. But I don’t want to push you. You might spend time with me and decide that you’d rather be with a real man.” When she tried to shake her head, he stopped her. “Let’s just see where this goes, but know that no matter what, I will always love you.”

He brought his lips to hers to stop Buffy from talking and as the kiss progressed, Spike was glad they were on her porch and not in a room alone somewhere. How could he possibly go slow, when she was revved up and ready to go in fast forward?

Chapter Twenty

Finally, Buffy could relax. She smiled at Willow who strolled along side her as they patrolled Wakefield Cemetery.

“We haven’t done this in like forever,” Willow said, swinging her stake.

“I know. With you and Oz attached at the hip and Spike and I seeing so much of each other, this summer has flown by and I think we’ve had what, two good conversations?”

“Well, now that we live in the same dorm building and have some classes together, we should have more time,” the ever optimistic Willow said.

Buffy’s first week of college would have been the week from hell, if it hadn’t been for Spike. He refused to go out in the daytime, but he’d meet her after the sun went down every night and they’d spent time together. Spike was the only one who sympathized with her roommate plight, but she had put off having them meet because the more he heard about the girl, the more angry he got.

The only thing she knew Spike to have some fear of was the still-to-show-themselves Initiative. Because they’d nabbed Spike on campus in his timeline, he couldn’t relax while on the property. Three nights ago Spike had let his guard down and they’d been making out on a bench on campus when Sunday and her vampire family had shown themselves. Between the Slayer and the souled vampire, they’d been able to dust all but Sunday and one of the minions before they ran off. It took the whole Scoobie gang to hunt them down and dispose of them, but now the campus was safe as word got around in the demon population that the Slayer was a student there.

Most of the students were at parties on the first Friday night of the school year, but Buffy just had to get away from the college scene and since Oz was playing a gig and Willow’s roommate was having yet another party, Willow had asked to go along. Spike usually patrolled with her, but he’d said he had something to do and suggested Wakefield Cemetery for her and Willow to check out because he’d heard that there would be activity tonight. So far, however, it had been a quiet night.

“So, how are things going with you and Spike?” Willow asked as they walked the cracked concrete path.

“Really good. I haven’t had a boyfriend this long since Angel, but this is way better.”

Willow bumped her hip and grinned. “Have you guys…?”

“Willow!” Buffy laughed but shook her head. “Spike keeps saying he wants to take it slow.”

“You need to remind him that while he’s practically immortal, you aren’t.”

“I have. I’ve tried the ‘I’m not getting any younger’ line, but he just smiles and tells me to be patient. I get the feeling he thinks I’m going to change my mind about wanting to be with him.”

She couldn’t tell Willow that it was because they’d been enemies in Spike’s real timeline and according to him, Buffy had never really let herself love him back then, even after they had been together. It was very confusing for her and sometimes she felt like she was paying for the sins of some other girl -- that it was her, but not her. None of that mattered when they were together. Spike made all of their dates special and more importantly, he made her feel special.

Their only bone of contention was Giles. There had been no evidence yet of the Initiative and Willow and Oz were still very much together. Buffy was sure Spike was telling the truth and that it was like he said, and these things were still going to happen, but Giles was like a bulldog. He refused to be courteous to Spike and Spike wisely stayed out of the man’s way as much as possible. But she hated that they didn’t get along. She wanted everyone in her circle to like each other.

At least her mother liked Spike. He’d been over to dinner twice a week during the summer. And sometimes Buffy felt out of place and even a little jealous, as they talked about music and movies that were way before her time.

“How are things going with Kathy?” Willow asked and then practically shrank back at the glare Buffy sent her way.

“If she plays “Believe” one more time, I think I just might have to kill a bit—”

“Buffy!”

“I know you think I’m over reacting, but I’m not. She’s insane!”

After stalling to take a look at her watch, Willow said, “Look at the time. One o’clock already! We should head back.”

“But I didn’t get to kill anything yet,” Buffy said, knowing that she was pouting.

That was another thing that Spike understood. Her need for violence. This summer, she’d had such a fun time being the Slayer. Spike was always encouraging her to embrace her lot in life. To not feel guilty for liking the violence. He made her feel as if she wasn’t a freak and he was right. Just because she liked the violence sometimes didn’t make her just as bad as the bad guys. Now, if she could just get a handle on her anger with her roommate, she could believe it all the time.

The two girls went their separate ways once they were inside the dorm building and Buffy slowly took the stairs, dreading her room. If she were lucky, maybe Kathy would be asleep. But no such luck. As she got to her room level, she could hear “Believe” coming out of the open door. Suddenly, Kathy was scurrying out with a cardboard box in her arms.

“Kathy?” Buffy asked as the girl breezed by her, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

Quickening her steps, Buffy entered the room and then stopped dead. Spike was resting on her bed with his arms crossed behind his head on the pillow.

“Evening, love. Have a nice time with Red tonight?”

“What?” Buffy let her jaw hang open and turned slightly to point at the door.

She couldn’t believe that he had braved even coming into the dorms with the Initiative supposedly crawling all over campus, disguised as college students. Much less that Kathy was moving out all of a sudden.

“Oh, that?” Spike sat up and patted the spot next to him. She sat down and leaned into him and as was his habit, he put his arm around her. “Your little pain in the arse roommate happens to be a demon from another dimension.”

“No way!”

“Yeah. It takes a demon to know one, though usually you’re pretty good at spotting them too. She’s just very good at blending in.”

“I knew she was evil!” Buffy stood as Kathy rushed back into the room, but Spike grabbed her hand and yanked her back down.

“She’s leaving and not coming back, right?” Spike said with menace in his voice.

“Yes. I’m going. This is the last box,” the flustered demon girl said.

She turned to leave, but Buffy got out of Spike’s grip.

“Wait!” The Slayer hurried to the small fridge and gathered a bunch of items into her arms. “Take this crap with you.” She dumped them into the box. “And for the love of all that is good,” Buffy said while ripping the CD player cord out of the wall, “take this with you too.”

Kathy ran out of the room, her box overflowing with food and electronics, and didn’t look back.

Buffy turned to Spike who looked very pleased with himself. She took a long look around at the half empty closest, the bare mattress and the clean walls on that side of the room. It was such a relief to have her gone, that she almost let it go, but she had to ask, “Why am I not slaying her?”

“Except for the occasional soul sucking, her kind are harmless to humans. And she’s hitching a ride back home in a few minutes. All I had to do was threaten to alert the Initiative and she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. That and the fact that I informed her that you are the one demon hunter powerful enough to end her existence.”

“Is this what you had planned for the night? To go behind my back and take care of my roommate problem?”

“Actually, I was just going to come round and see if she was as bad as you said she was. Maybe scare her a little.”

Buffy put her hands on her hips as he got up and shut the door and locked it with a click. “How come you didn’t know my roommate was going to turn out to be a demon?”

“Wasn’t topside when you started college. In fact, I was under the city, digging for treasure.” He held up the hand with the Gem on it.

The way he was looking at her made her stomach flip as if she’d just taken the plunge down a huge hill on a roller coaster. Her heart began to race when he stalked forward, his eyes half closed as he bit his lip.

“So, it looks like you have this place all to yourself now, yeah?”

“It looks that way.” Her voice hitched at the first touch of his hands on her hips.

For half a second, the cocky vampire was gone and insecurity shone through in his incredible eyes. And then it was gone, replaced with seductive Spike.

“Mind if I stay?” he asked, glancing down the front of her shirt.

“Just try to leave and see how far you get.”

Her hands shook as she helped him out of his duster, but there was no way she was turning back now. She’d been wanting this to happen for a very long time and if he was ready, then so was she.

Spike took hold of the collar of her jacket and gently pulled her to him. The kiss he gave her was soft and almost reverent. She tried to deepen the kiss and let out a frustrated sound when he pulled back.

Buffy could tell that he was aching inside, that something was eating him up. She marveled at how fast his emotions could change.

“Do you trust me?” he suddenly asked.

“Yes. I trust you, Spike.” She let her hands wander over his t-shirt covered chest. “I know you think it’s too soon for me to say, but I don’t just trust you, I’m falling in love with you.”

With his eyes squeezed shut, he tilted his head back and sucked in some air, his chest shuddering under her palm. Finally, he stared at her and said, “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, please.”

He returned her smile before he captured her lips with his own. All thought of who was more nervous, who deserved who, and if she was doing things right fled as his tongue met hers. His natural scent mixed with the fresh mint from the last Tic Tac he’d eaten had her senses reeling. Adding to this, he deftly began to remove her clothes and moved them little by little towards her small bed.

Just managing to get his t-shirt over his head, Buffy turned with him and found herself in his lap as he sat down. She wanted to go faster, to pull him back up and get his jeans off, but Spike seemed to be in no hurry. He reached behind her and undid the clasps to her bra.

“Relax,” Spike whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Let me make you feel good.”

Every nerve ending in her body tingled at the slightest contact and once she was bare from the waist up and they were touching, skin to skin, her breathing became erratic. God, he felt so good. Pressing closer to him, she ran her hands up and down his smooth back and kissed his neck, just below his ear.

The sounds coming from his chest and throat emboldened her and she tugged on his ear lobe with her teeth. Buffy thought she’d done something wrong when he suddenly moved her to his side, but then he was standing up and her eyes were transfixed on Spike’s hands as he undid his belt and pulled his jeans below his hips. She reached out to touch him, her eyes widening, and was equally thrilled by the feel on him in her hands and the hiss of pleasure he made at the contact.

Soon, they were squeezed together on her twin-sized bed under the sheets. She was surprised at how nervous she was, but at the same time she felt like she was home being enveloped in his arms, kissing him passionately, and hearing his soft words of encouragement as she explored his body.

Propped above her, with their thighs touching, he leaned his head down and softly kissed her before saying, “I love you.”

Buffy tensed up at first and then she was swept away by the sensations she was feeling as they moved together. Sensations that mirrored the intensity of her feelings for Spike. She knew it was possible, but still wasn’t prepared for the pleasure that rocked through her body a few minutes later. They clung together as her breathing slowed and she didn’t want to let go. Not ever. She’d never felt this close to anyone in her life and she didn’t want it to be over.

“You can let go now, Kitten. I don’t want to crush you.”

“Sorry,” she said softly, reluctantly loosening her grip on him.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He rolled to the side and turned her towards him. “Are you okay?”

She glanced at the ceiling, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I think I’m more than okay.”

His relieved sigh had her turning back to him and she found herself in his embrace once again. Spike kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Is it always like that?” she asked as they settled with her head on his chest.

“No. It’s only going to get better. And there are so many things we’re going to do together. It will never get old and it won’t always be just like this.”

Spike caressed Buffy’s arm and they were silent for a long time. He couldn’t believe where he was or how incredible it was to make love to her and get her love back. For the first time in his existence, Spike felt really good. The physical and the emotional had lined up and the world was a great place. He had a hard time taming his thoughts. He wanted to get up and go pull down the moon for her, he wanted to buy her a mansion, cover her in jewels and keep her naked in their bed for the rest of their lives.

“I met that guy, Parker, that you warned me about, today at breakfast,” she said, out of the blue.

“Please tell me you kicked him in the bollocks and stole his breakfast money.”

With a giggle, she said, “No. I didn’t do that, but I gave him the cold shoulder and he seemed surprised. Like he’s not used to girls ignoring him.” Tilting her head up to make eye contact with Spike, she asked, “What did he do that was so bad, anyways?”

“Not saying anything specific, but like I said before, he’s a player and a liar. Warn all your little friends to stay clear of him.”

She stretched her neck to kiss him and then she smiled, trust written all over her face. “Got it. The female population should stay clear of him. And speaking of guys to stay clear of, I’ve been watching Riley in class and I’m having a hard time believing that he and Professor Walsh are anything but teacher and teacher’s aide.”

“Please believe me. They are very bad news. In fact, don’t even have eye contact with them if you can help it.”

Her arm tightened around him. “All right. I’ll avoid them at all costs. For now. But if what you say about them is true, something is going to have to done about them. And soon.”

“Truer words… And I plan to very involved in taking that lot down.” She frowned up at him. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to get all growly, but up until now, it’s been all about you and making sure you have a wonderful happy life, but this thing with the Initiative? Well, it’s personal.”

A/N Betad by seapealsh and slaymesoftly.
banner by dawnofme.



Chapter Twenty-One


Buffy stood off to the side with Willow and Anya as the ground-breaking ceremony for the Cultural Partner Center on campus got underway. She quickly glanced at Anya who was ogling Xander and then turned to watch her bare-chested friend as he leaned on a shovel. Buffy couldn’t decide if she was more wigged about Anya’s lack of decency as she talked about wanting to have sex with Xander or the fact that Spike was right about the ex-demon and her long time friend becoming a couple.

Even Giles could not come up with a plausible way that Spike could have known that. Giles had been the first to know about Anya and Xander. When he’d helped to rescue the rest of them from the Halloween house from hell, he pointed out Anya in a bunny costume and scowled at Spike who’d been with Buffy and the rest of the gang in the house, as he smugly told her watcher, “I told you so.”

Giles was still stubbornly refusing to believe that Spike was from the future, even with the first prediction coming true. Buffy glanced over at Willow, a pang of sadness gripping her heart. Spike’s next prediction seemed to have come true as well. Oz had left and while Willow was holding out hope that he’d be back, Spike had warned Buffy before the vampire left for Los Angeles that Oz was not coming back and that while Spike was gone, Buffy should keep Willow busy and stick to her like glue.

A second pang of sadness hit her as she thought of Spike. He’d only been gone for a week, but she felt as if she was missing her right arm, her heart and half her brain. He’d made his monthly call to his friends, Volkov and Noreen, and after getting off the phone, he’d grabbed his coat from Buffy’s dorm room closet and calmly told her that his friends were in trouble and that he’d have to leave her for a little while.

She’d wanted to go with him, but he warned her about a spirit Indian that was going to wreak havoc in Sunnydale during Thanksgiving and that she would need to be prepared to fight it off. He was hoping to get back in time to help her, but it was the day before Thanksgiving and so far, he hadn’t even called. So she found herself on edge, waiting for him to arrive and waiting for some crazy Indian to attack, armed just with the knowledge that the only way to kill him was with his own knife.

~ * ~ * ~

Spike was taking the risk of drawing attention to his car as he sped forty miles over the speed limit down the dusty two-lane highway in the late afternoon sun. When Volkov had mentioned the Scourge and how they were going after Lister demons because they were all part human, Spike had felt like he had no choice but to rush off and help his friends. Turned out, he was very much needed, but it had taken him a week to discover how the Scourge was planning to do away with all the Listers at once. It had grated against all that he was to ask Angel, Cordy and Doyle, a half breed demon, to help him find and destroy the machine that the Scourge had created. It was intended to kill any human or half-human within a fourth of a mile radius of its rays.

Then, that morning, Doyle had a vision of Buffy being in danger, and Spike realized that it was Thanksgiving. With the help of Angel’s buddies, Spike was able to convince the cursed vampire to stay in L.A. and let Spike take care of things. He had time to get there, as long as there were no mishaps on the way.

The sun was just beginning to set when he pulled off the highway and forced himself to slow down on the streets of Sunnydale. Spike racked his brain, trying to remember just when the Indians first mounted their attack on Giles’ apartment. The last time he’d been through this, he’d been helpless, tied to a bloody chair. With any luck, he’d get there this time before the Indians could fire the first arrow into the apartment.

Luck was not on his side and he burst through the door just in time to see Buffy gut the giant bear with the knife, a green mist dissipating around her legs. Her eyes flashed in that sexy way they did whenever she won an invigorating fight and then she saw Spike. His knees nearly buckled from both the relief that she was okay and from the look of pure joy that took over her expression.

The knife dropped, she ran, threw her arms around him- not caring any more than Spike did that they had the Scoobies for an audience - and proceeded to kiss him silly.

“He’s only been gone for a week,” Xander groused, but then he took a look as his rapidly healing skin and smiled. “Thank God! Look, Anya, I’m getting better.”

This time, when they sat together for Thanksgiving dinner, Spike was untied and a huge mug of steaming pig’s blood was placed before him. Jenny Calendar had helped Buffy with the dinner and his Slayer seemed much more relaxed than she had the first time around. The talk at the table was jovial and even Willow had a smile on her face. Every so often, Spike would catch Giles staring at him curiously. Spike was just glad that he wasn’t scowling at him and he could only guess that with so many of his predictions coming true that the watcher was finding it more and more difficult to deny that Spike was telling the truth.

Later, Giles took Spike aside and told him that he wanted Buffy and him to stick around after the others left so that they could talk. And while Giles said goodbye to the others and walked Jenny to her car, Buffy sat down with Spike and they shared a few kisses before she said, “You’ve been right about everything.” He opened his mouth to say something witty, but she cut him off, saying, “I saw the commandos the other night. All dressed in fatigues with their faces covered, just like you said they would be.”

Alarmed, he grabbed her hand. “Please tell me they didn’t see you and that they don't know that you’re the Slayer?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t see me.”

Giles sat down in his chair and stared hard at Spike. “It appears that you have been telling the truth. I just don’t understand how or why you have gone back in time.”

“I don’t get it either, but I’m making the most of it,” Spike said, squeezing Buffy’s hand. “Next order of business is to do away with the Initiative.”

“Why do we have to do anything?” Buffy asked. “They’re capturing demons and making my job a whole lot easier.”

Giles nodded in agreement, but he waited calmly for Spike to talk.

“On the surface, they seemed to be doing a good thing. In fact, most of those military guys really think they’re doing good. It’s the professor and a few others who have diabolical plans.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Spike chuckled. “Did I just say diabolical?”

When Giles grinned back at him, Spike sobered up and continued. “Walsh is taking parts from demons and parts from soldiers and swapping them.”

Buffy gasped. “She’s what?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a modern day Dr. Frankenstein. And her pet project, a demon slash human slash machine named Adam, is bleeding dangerous. They plan to get a war going in the underground with demons and soldiers having equal casualties so she’ll have plenty of parts to work with.”

“They must be stopped,” Giles said, leaning forward in his seat. “But if most of the soldiers are as innocent as you say, we have to be careful to minimize the loss of life.”

Buffy got Spike’s attention and said, “You say we have a few months before things get crazy, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. At least four months before Adam escapes.”

Giles stood and stretched. “Well, then, we’ll have plenty of time for research to come up with a failsafe plan.”

~ * ~ * ~

Three weeks later, Spike sat on the crumbling wall of Restfield Cemetery and watched his woman do her thing. She’d already dusted the fledgling vampire that had broken free from his grave, but then she’d had to contend with the one who had sired him. He might be an older vampire, but he was no match for the Slayer. She was just playing with him, showing off for Spike. He was loving every minute of it.

With each kick or punch, she made wonderful little noises that were very similar to the way she sounded when they were in bed, or on the floor or his couch or up against a wall somewhere. She got the vampire to the ground and Spike hoped she’d finish him off soon, because he was randy as hell. Seconds later, he hopped down and held his hand out to help her up, not letting go, but pulling her in for a hug.

“Bloody hell, you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes flashed with desire. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pressed his groin against her and rubbed his hands across her back. “I don’t know what it is about you when you’re fighting evil, but all I want to do is shag you.”

“Come on.”

She took his hand and raced towards his crypt, where most of their nights on patrol ended. Buffy didn’t seem to mind the dark, cool place and the bed was a lot bigger than the one in the dorms, which they only got use out of when Willow, her new roommate, was going to be away for the night. Before the inner door was even closed, they were shedding their clothes.

She stopped him just at the entrance to the lower level and asked, “Do you think maybe my technique is slipping a little? It took me longer than usual to dust that last vamp.”

With a snort, he patted her arse. “Quit fishing for compliments. The poor sod didn’t stand a chance and you well know it. You were just playing with him.”

Buffy’s serious look changed slowly as her grin got wider and wider, reaching her eyes and lighting them up. “You’re right. I was just playing with him. Now, I want to play with you!”

She gave him a light shove and he stumbled into the hole, barely getting a grip on the ladder. He had to scurry to get down before she trampled him, but once his feet touched the ground he had the advantage. Grabbing her around the waist, he spun her, tossing her on the bed. Buffy was on her knees in a flash and ready for him when he flew at her.

Spike let her get the upper hand and as she pinned him beneath her, he thrust his hips up to meet her as she came down on him. The fun mood quickly turned serious when they met in the middle, crashing into each other at a fevered pitch. She let go of his arms and he gripped her hips to keep them balanced.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” Spike said when she slowed down enough for him to talk.

He meant it as a compliment and she took it that way, speeding up again.

They spent much of the night making a mess of his room, but she fell asleep in his arms an hour before dawn. He watched her take slow even breaths and smiled when she snored a few times. As usual, he wasn’t sleepy yet. When she left for classes in the morning, maybe he’d take a nap, but he was in the habit of getting a couple of hours of sleep right before he would meet her after school was over.

~ * ~ * ~

Spike lounged, stretched out on his couch with the remote in one hand and glass of JD in the other. There wasn’t much on this early in the day, but he channel surfed anyway, his mind on plans for the evening. After he picked Buffy up from school, they were heading over to Giles’ place to discuss ideas on how to safely take down the Initiative.

It had been almost four months since Thanksgiving, but he had nothing. He’d been busy helping Buffy save the town from the Gentlemen who’d taken all their voices and—he smiled as he thought of it—saving Giles when his old friend Ethan had come back to town and changed him into a Fyarl demon. He’d debated about whether to warn Giles about that, but it had been so much fun to save Giles the first time and have him be indebted to him that he just couldn’t resist letting it happen again. Of course, he’d found Ethan right away and made him turn Giles back.

Not one good idea came to him for dealing with the Initiative that didn’t involve setting the whole place on fire and killing the whole lot of soldiers and demons at once.

Flipping through the TV channels, he stopped and rolled his eyes at a news story involving animal rights activists. The crazy people who latched onto any new cause, the buggers that were always trying to convert people to their way of thinking, had never sat right with him. In fact, he remembered that they tasted downright awful. But their sour dispositions and their stupid protests and outlandish, over the top and exaggerated posters that were only put together to incite the average citizen to do something about the unethical treatment of animals always bugged him. Those people needed to get laid or something.

He quickly flipped the channels and stopped to take a drink. He’d landed on a public television station that was running a documentary on the Vietnam war era. Spike snorted. “More sods protesting.”

The current footage was of a college campus where the protesters had handcuffed themselves together and to the building, yelling, “Hell no, we won’t go.”

Sitting up straight, he didn’t even flinch as what was left in his glass splashed out onto his jeans. He shot to his feet with a smile on his face and took enough time to grab his duster, put on his sunglasses and double check that the Gem of Amara was still on his finger. He raced to his car and didn’t even wait for it to warm up before he was peeling away from the curb and heading for UC Sunnydale.

When Spike arrived, he ran to the dorm building and took the steps two at a time. He knocked on Buffy’s door, but there was no answer. Searching frantically for a clock, he groaned when he found one in the lobby. “Bugger.” It was 1:15 p.m. on a Tuesday. She was in Walsh’s class. He slowed his steps, but he still made his way across campus and then paced by the psychology classroom doors.

He couldn’t take it any longer. With only days to spare, he’d found the solution and he had to tell Buffy. Now. If they were going to have time to work out all the details and get his plan in motion. Flinging the doors open, he rushed in and all eyes turned to him. Spike cleared his throat and said, “Pardon the interruption, but I need to speak with Buffy Summers right away.”

“This is a class room, young man, and I won’t have you disrupting my lecture,” Dr. Walsh said, even as Buffy stood up and was making her way towards him. Dr. Walsh waved Riley over. “Escort this…this man out, please.”

Spike backed up until he hit the wall as Riley came towards him, the horrors of his time in the Initiative flooding back. It was a good thing that Buffy got there when she did.

“Don’t even think about touching my boyfriend!”

The class murmured and snickered as Riley took a step back with a scowl on his face.

Buffy grabbed Spike’s hand and yanked him out of the class. When they were far enough away, he stopped and turned to her, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry about that. I think I got a little carried away, but I’ve come up with the perfect solution to our…” he paused and leaned in to whisper, “Initiative problem.”

“Great, what do you have in mind?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to Giles’ place.”

~ * ~ * ~

They chose lunch hour the next day to hand out the flyers that Willow had put together with the help of Tara and Anya. As the crowds of college students walked through the courtyard, all the members of the Scooby gang, including a well-dressed Spike, passed out the flyers. Soon, incensed students were grabbing boxes of the flyers and helping to hand them out until there were none left. Groups of students began to gather to discuss plans for protests, and Spike and Buffy sat back at a table with the others to watch as the little rumor snowballed.

Giles had called the TV stations and the first van was just arriving. The reporter, cameraman and soundman got out one by one and someone gave them flyers. The reporter quickly read over it and when he saw the lady in the picture on the flyer walking across the yard, he dashed after her, thrusting a microphone in her face.

“You are Dr. Maggie Walsh, right?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously, glancing around at all the activity.

“Is it true what this flyer says? Are you conducting horrific scientific experiments on animals in a secret underground laboratory with an entrance at Lowell House?”

“What? No… Of course not! I’m a psychology professor.”

She rushed off, but the gang did not miss it when she pulled out a walkie-talkie and began barking orders into it. Satisfied that the plan had worked, there were high fives all around at the table. Albeit a hesitant one between Spike and Giles.

Over the next two days, the college campus was whipped into a frenzy, with angry students protesting in front of Lowell House. All the while, the government group was slowly and carefully removing personnel and equipment. The Scoobies couldn’t be too sure, but none of them saw Adam sized boxes leaving. The second night, they watched in horror as large cements trucks were backed up to ground level vents and the whole place was filled in with wet concrete.

They couldn’t even guess how many demons had been left in there to die, but there was no way to rescue any of them and from what Spike could remember, most were not of the tame and peaceable variety. Those types of demons tended to stay clear of the Hellmouth, so there weren’t too many who could have possibly been captured.

By that Friday, the student body was minus ten percent of its population and five professors had resigned, including Dr. Maggie Walsh. Classes were canceled and the Scooby gang met at the Bronze later in the evening to celebrate their victory. Even Giles showed up.

Spike sat at their table and smirked at the old man and Jenny as they moved together on the dance floor.

“What is that look for?” Buffy asked, as she came back from the girls’ room.

He shrugged. “Still can’t get over that fact that Jenny is around, or that those two have lasted this long.” He chuckled. “And Giles just looks so out of place on that dance floor. Wouldn’t be so bad if he knew how to dance.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. I-Don’t-Dance. At least Giles makes an attempt for his girlfriend.”

Turning to her and leaning in to kiss her cheek, he teased, “Is that a pout I see?” The song selection changed to a slow, romantic ballad. He stood and grabbed her hand. “I can handle this type of song. Dance with me?”

Any excuse to hold her close and get his hands on her was good in his book. They stepped onto the floor and, at first, Buffy held him back a little and stared at him. Feeling self-conscious, because she seemed to be able to see into his soul, he planted a kiss on her forehead. Soon she was pliant and relaxed in his arms with her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music. Spike tried not to get too emotional, but whenever she was soft and willing in his embrace, he couldn’t help but be grateful for this second chance that he’d been given. It didn’t matter how it happened, he was just glad that he was here, even if he’d had to relive twenty plus years to get to this point.

~ * ~ * ~

Spike sat on the back step of the house on Revello Drive, chin resting in one of his hands, deep in thought. Buffy was busy in the kitchen helping her mom cook a meal and the Scoobies were all invited. He couldn’t honestly say that he enjoyed these regular get-togethers but Buffy loved them and that was good enough for him.

His thoughts turned as they so often did to the events of the past few decades. He’d spent much of that time in a state of anticipation over one thing or another and there were still a couple of things that preyed on his mind. As he neared the year that he had been ripped from, he worried that maybe it would happen again – was he going to be perpetually thrown back from that point?

Pushing his dismal thoughts away, he focused on Buffy. One thing he did miss from the first time around was that flash of fire in her eyes he used to see when he’d pissed her off – usually right before she punched him. He smirked as he resolved to put a little effort into winding her up every now and then. Shaking his head ruefully, Spike decided that perhaps he wasn’t quite as good as she thought he was.

Laughter carried out to him as mother and daughter teased each other and he frowned. Joyce’s health was a worry to him still. Was it enough that he’d convinced her to go to the doctor as soon as she began getting the headaches? He shook his head sadly. Only time would tell, and if Joyce’s death was meant to be, then at least he’d be there to comfort and care for Buffy.

He’d re-visited the crypt that had yielded the Gem of Amara and squirreled away enough of the treasure to make sure that Buffy and her mum would never need to worry about their finances should the need arise. Though he’d been careful to disguise this from them, being unsure how they’d feel about stealing from the dead. His cover story wasn’t too far removed from reality. He’d told them that he bet on the outcome of big sports events – which he had done but not for a few years. He chuckled wryly. Giles had nearly broken his glasses when he lectured him on how it was actually cheating the bookmakers out of their money.

“Watcha doing?” a playful voice asked.

Grinning broadly, Spike leapt up and wrapped his arms around the figure, hugging her tightly and dropping a kiss on her brown hair.

“Ow! Spike! I need to breathe,” complained Dawn, trying to wriggle free.

“Sorry, Niblet,” replied Spike hoarsely, as he loosened his grip. Putting a hand on each of her arms, he stared at her, unable to believe that she was finally here.

“What? Oh my God, do I have something stuck in my teeth?” Dawn squealed and wriggled free.

“No, you’re fine. Perfect. Just haven’t seen you in a long time,” Spike replied, blinking rapidly.

Hands folded across her chest, Dawn shook her head. “I know you’re ancient, Spike, but I didn’t think vampires could get memory loss. You only saw me this morning, remember? She grinned and adopted an English accent as she added, “Told me off for not eating a proper breakfast.”

Spike swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s right. Just been a long day, I guess.” Smiling slightly, he gestured to the door. “I hope Joyce isn’t letting Buffy do too much of the cooking.”

Dawn giggled and slapped his arm. “Is that why you only ever have blood when Buffy helps?”

“No…er…” Spike looked off, unable to deny it.

“It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”

The buzz of the doorbell interrupted them and they heard Buffy letting the first of the guests in.

Joyce called out. “Dawn, can you lay the table, please?”

“Okay!” replied Dawn. She turned to Spike and held out her hand. “Coming in?”

Spike reached out and took the hand took the hand of the girl that he remembered so well. He’d worried that like the first time around he wouldn’t realize exactly what she was. So he’d written down everything about her arrival and the events that followed, and given it to Giles. He’d asked the watcher to read it but not to mention it to the others. Forewarned, they would be able to defeat Glory through Ben, and the Scoobies need never know that Dawn was anything but Buffy’s kid sister. But Spike was still relieved to see her with his memories intact.

Waggling their joined hands, Dawn said, “Come on. You can help me.”

Grinning, Spike stepped briskly past her and pulled her along. “What are you waiting for?”

Together they went inside. Spike knew that the future wasn’t set but he had his two girls with him and that’s all that mattered.


The End

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Dawnofme and Mabel Marsters are 2writers4spike