3


Xander may have only had one eye left, but he still had two good ears, and he knew what grief sounded like. The edge that was in Buffy's voice had been in his own, a year ago. Xander knew that Buffy needed a break from looking after Spike, on a nearly twenty-four-hour basis, for nearly three months. Xander also knew that if it came down to a fight between Drusilla and Buffy, right now, Drusilla would claim her second Slayer. And, Xander knew, that if that happened, and Spike found out that Xander could have done something to keep it from happening, Spike would have him for dinner. And what's more, Xander would welcome it.

Instead of going directly to the burial chamber, he'd slipped up into the sanctuary and out the back of the church. All of the people he needed to talk to were back at "Scooby Central," the tiny hotel room three blocks from the church. Xander had a plan, and he needed everyone's help.
**********************

Buffy put the candle in the small holder and watched the flame waver and the line of smoke weave up to the ceiling. She knelt and placed the flame a safe distance from Spike's skin, but still close enough that his face and body were cast in a shimmering shadow, and examined him with a critical eye.

There were things that she expected to see. The black splotches on his body were getting smaller, so his body was healing itself. But, Buffy knew that healing, without the aid of human blood, was not only a slow, but also a painful, process. She could see the pain in his eyes, even before Spike had diverted the energy he had used to communicate to healing his injuries. The pain had transformed his eyes from clear, bright, azure to a ring of dark, feverish royal blue, all but obscured by the dark pupils in the center, as they tried in vain to draw in more light so that he could see her. Yet he still kept silent about the extent of the pain he was in, preferring instead to try and put her at ease with a devilish smirk and bedroom humor. But, Buffy knew the truth.

Ten days ago, Spike had stopped communicating with her at all, and his eyes had clouded over, to a smoky bluish- grey. Buffy hadn't seen that color in his eyes since the behavior modification chip the Initiative had implanted in his skull had started to degrade. She knew he'd been in screaming pain then. But now, he wasn't screaming, and that scared her even more.

Buffy leaned down to place a kiss to his temple. That soft mercy was rewarded with a tiny intake of breath, an energy Buffy knew he couldn't afford to expend, but did anyway, because it was something Spike had always done. Spike used his lungs, even when he didn't need to, purely out of habit. When they were together, Spike would let his breathing fall into rhythm with hers. Spike wasn't even aware he was doing it, but it was another thing about him that she'd been missing for too long. Another thing that she wasn't going be without again. At least, not before she fought tooth and nail, to keep it.

"Yeah, that's right, Buffy's here," she said, tenderly, "You just concentrate on getting better. Don't you worry about Drusilla. You let me do that, all right? Whatever she wants, she can have it. It doesn't matter," Buffy carefully laced her fingers in his, "I just need you back, Spike."
*****************

"Okay gang," Xander said, "Buffy needs a break. She hasn't left Spike's side in almost ninety days. She won't say it, but I know she's tired. Buffy needs to get some sleep."

Willow agreed, "Xander, what do you want us to do?"

"Well, I'm no vampire, but I am a guy, and I know I wouldn't want everyone I cared about," he looked at Dawn, "Especially girls that I thought of as a little sister, and who I kept safe the summer her sister was gone, seeing me without a stitch of clothing on," Xander saw Dawn's cheeks redden, "for three months!"

"But," Dawn said, "wouldn't putting clothes on him hurt him? I mean, he is burned."

Xander nodded, "The gowns they have in hospitals barely touch the skin, and he wouldn't need to be moved much for us to put it on him. I admit, it's not his usual taste, but it does cover all of Spike's naughty parts, none of which Dawnie should be seeing anyway."

"And the wounds must be in need of debridement by now," Giles said.

"What is that?" Dawn asked.

Illyria answered, "It is the process of removing burned tissue, so that the body can begin to grow new, undamaged, tissue in its place."

Dawn winced, "That sounds painful."

"It is. Extremely so," Giles said.

Willow's eyes brightened, "I think I can help there," she said, " I can enclose him in a healing field. If we need to move him, or do anything to him, while the shield is in place, it shouldn't hurt at all. It's kind of like a magical morphine drip."

The others only stared at her in stunned silence. They knew what Willow was capable of if she let the magic take control of her.

Willow put her hands up in a gesture of surrender, "Strictly healing magic. No dark eyes, I promise," she looked at Giles, "If you don't believe me," Giles, you can monitor me."

Giles smiled, "The very fact that you are willing to be monitored proves that I may not need to do so. But, I will be nearby, should you need assistance, Willow."

"So, that's the plan," Xander asked, waiting for each to nod, "We all have our assignments. Let's spit up, and meet back at the crypt in an hour?"
*****************

Buffy lay in the crypt talking, as much for her own sanity, as to keep him company, "Dawn said that when I was gone that summer, you went a long time without feeding," Buffy gave a wry smile, "I thought you looked a little skinny that night. You looked like you were going to drop, right at the base of the stairs. Dawn told me you'd started seeing things by the time Willow did that spell. It's no wonder that you looked like you'd seen a ghost," her tone became serious, "I wonder, are you seeing things now?"

Just then, she heard Xander's voice at the archway, "Buffy, the gang's all here. We'll take care of Spike for a while. You go get some sleep."

Buffy got up from the floor, and met her friends; some with medical supplies in hand, " Xander, I can't leave Spike right now."

Suddenly, a voice came from the floor, "Slayer, let the flunkies have a go, yeah? You rest. Don't worry, I'll be here."

Buffy's head snapped to the sound, "Spike! Are you sure?"

"Yes. Sweet dreams, Slayer."
*********************

Willow finished the incantation, "Okay guys, we should be able to move him now."

Xander stepped up, with the hospital gown and slippers, smirking down at a sleeping vampire, "My," he said admiring the pink glow of energy that quivered around him, "but the 'Big Bad' looks so pretty in pink. Come on, big man, it may not be fashionable, but if I have to look at you in your altogether, one more day, I'm going to hurl," Xander said as he carefully threaded Spike's arms through the garment, and tied the back closed.

Dawn stepped up next, "Spike, it's Dawn. I'm going to give you a nice alcohol rub, okay, maybe help cool your skin down faster so that you feel a little more like, well, a vampire," she poured the contents of the bottle into a small dish, dipped a cloth into the alcohol, and began to gently swipe his face and arms, "This won't hurt, I promise," Dawn's voice hitched as her fingers worked the cloth over his skin, " I love you, Spike."
******************

As Buffy fell asleep, on the bed in the Hyperian Hotel, she found herself in Sunnydale again. Her house and yard looked exactly like she remembered it. There was even the oak tree in the front yard. She squinted against the glare of the sunlight. No, it wasn't possible, she thought. But, it was. There was someone standing under the tree. There, standing in bright, blaring daylight, was Spike. Just as perfect as she knew he was, not a burn mark on him.

"Spike, is that you?" she asked, stepping off of her porch.

He sauntered closer to her, "What do you think, Slayer?" he said, holding his arms wide, waiting to catch her.

Buffy ran into his embrace and Spike lifted her up and spun her around until she was laughing from the dizziness. The sounds of Buffy's laughter only made Spike spin her faster, forcing her to cry out, "Stop it Spike, I think I'm going to be sick!"

Spike slowed down his momentum, and placed Buffy gently on her feet, "We can't have that," he said placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, "can we?"

Buffy stared, wonderstruck, "How, I thought you were back at the church?"

Spike nodded, "I am. I'm getting all the tender loving care I need, right now. I thought maybe you could use some, so here I am."
******************

Angel looked at Dawn, "You mean that Spike hasn't let his demon show, for three months?"

"Yep. No gold eyed baddie, just blue eyed 'Big Bad.'"

Angel shook his head in disbelief, "William's amazing."

"I know," Dawn said, with pride in her voice, "Willow's going to let the field down now, so you can feed him. You said it would help with the pain, until Drusilla got here?"

"It should. But, afterwards, he might be a little weepy."

"Well," Dawn said, "If you can't cry in front of your friends, who can you cry in front of? I cried in front of him. He can cry in front of me."
**************************

Buffy awoke to Dawn pounding on her door, "Buffy, wake up! Angel's here, and he's going to give Spike some of his blood. I think you should be there, in case Spike needs you."

Buffy was up and dressed in a flash. Slayer speed is still gangbusters, she thought, "Okay Dawnie. I'm right behind you. Don't let Angel near him until I get there."

"You got it," Dawn said, running back to the church.
 


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

Willow was glad that Buffy wanted her to wait until she was present before she lowered the healing shield around Spike. As Willow looked at the mixture of pink and green light swirling around him, she smiled at how peaceful he looked, like a sleeping angel. The field had allowed a calm to settle over him that hadn't been there three months ago. And, thinking back on it, Willow wasn't sure she had ever seen Spike in quite this way, in all the years she'd known him. Willow was glad that she'd said kaddish for him, even though Kennedy couldn't understand why she would do it, after all, Spike was just a vampire, she'd, just once, reached back to her Jewish roots to offer up a prayer for the dead, hoping that somehow, Spike would find peace.

Now, for this brief moment, lying in the glow of magical energies, he had it, and letting the field drop would plunge him back into agony. She didn't want to do it. Once the magic dissipated, the wall between Spike's emotions and the others around him would be gone. If Willow didn't act fast, his pain would affect her and anyone he cared about, for miles around. Willow wasn't sure she was that fast, or that strong.

Dawn had been so quiet that Willow had forgotten she was even with her, until she spoke, "He looks so pretty, doesn't he? The pink and green sort of bouncing off of him like that? Don't tell him that I said he was pretty though, he still wants me to think he's tough, which I guess he is, because, Angel wasn't this bad off when Faith shot him with that arrow full of poison, and he couldn't go two days without going all fang-faced and trying to eat Buffy."

Willow smiled, letting Dawn's head rest on her shoulder, as she watched the magic do its thing, "You know Dawn, comments about how the pastel color scheme of the healing spell make Spike look slightly effeminate aside, I think he would take that as a compliment."

Dawn's nose scrunched up, "You mean, if I didn't say that the spell makes him look like a girl, he'd think what I said was cool?"

Willow nodded, "Something like that. Where is Buffy, anyway?"

"Oh, she's coming," Dawn said, "Angel and Riley showed up at the hotel, and she wanted to talk to them before coming here."
************************

"...And, explain again why it took you almost a month to make it from Cleveland to Los Angeles?"

Angel hung his head, "Part of it was because I really thought I could make heads or tails out of Drusilla's dribble, and I could bring her back here..."

"And the other part?" Buffy asked, impatient to get back to Spike, "Come on, we've got six weeks to find Drusilla, and I don't want to waste any of it talking to you if I don't have to."

Angel was puzzled, "Six weeks? But, I thought you were feeding him."

Buffy sighed, exhausted, "Oh, that's right. You didn't hear about the nifty little parasite that ate up the blood I gave him faster than I could give it to him."

"What?" Angel asked, genuinely shocked at this development.

"That's right," Buffy went on, "A little something left over from Maggie Walsh's bag of nightmares. A parasite that, when introduced into a vampire's system, feeds off of human hemoglobin, slowly starving the vampire," Buffy shook her head, "Normally, I'd say that her evil scheme was brilliant, but not in this case."

Riley spoke up, "I know this. Maggie called it, 'Wasting Serum,' it was the next level up from the chip. No matter how much a vamp ate, he'd always end up looking like a concentration camp survivor. Before he turned to dust, that is."

Angel was still confused, "So, how did it get into Spike's system, this parasite?"

"Something he drank, I guess. Angel, did you know someone named Lindsey McDonald?"

Angel's face grew dark, "Say no more. Buffy, how long has he been without blood. I'm assuming that's what you did," he looked at Buffy's swimming eyes, nodded a little, trying to reassure her, "You put him on a forced fast, didn't you," Buffy nodded slightly, and Angel could see that she was trembling from exhaustion, "Don't worry Buffy, it's what I would have done."

Buffy's voice was barely a whisper, "That's not all I did," she said.

"What did you do, Buffy?" Riley asked, gently.

"I took the blood back, Riley, like you'd treat a snakebite victim. I sucked the blood right out of him."

Angel was afraid Buffy would say something like that. Now, not only did Spike have to fight excruciating pain, but also he had to do it without the aid of blood. Though Buffy certainly did not have enough blood volume to completely eliminate it, her feedings should have allowed Spike to flush the poisons introduced into his system the night of the fight. If he'd had Buffy's blood to help him, he might have been able to move by now, but now, Angel wasn't sure what kind of timeline he was working against, or even if he could help Spike, even if he did give him his blood. From what Riley described, the parasite was brutal, and in Spike's weakened state, Angel wasn't sure Spike would be able to call out to Drusilla, even if he wanted to.

Angel closed his eyes; honestly afraid of what he might find when he went down into the sepulcher under Saint Benedict's. Angel had dealt with fear before, by driving those people he held nearest and dearest to him away. That tactic not only left him numb and dead, inside as well as out, it also made him the Home Office's new poster boy, apparently. If he remembered right, Angelus had told Spike that, without passions, we'd be truly dead inside. Well, it seemed that Spike had taken that lesson to heart, even before he'd given it. Now, Angel thought, who's Yoda in this scenario? Angel smiled at the irony, "You're finally taking the old man to school, Boy."

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing," Angel sighed, "Take me to him."
*******************

What Angel found under the church was worse than he'd expected. The skin was healing in some spots, that was true, but Spike's body was almost skeletal from lack of nourishment. If it wasn't for Willow's healing spell, Angel was sure Spike would be screaming. Yet Dawn had told him that the demon had not come to the fore. Not even briefly, in three months. To Angel, that meant that Spike's body had already begun to shut down. Without some kind of support, Spike would be dust by the end of the week, Drusilla, or no, Drusilla.

"We have to get him somewhere quiet," Angel said, scooping Spike up in his arms before anyone could protest, "He has to be more comfortable," Angel tried not to show how the sight of Spike really made him feel, "Spike can't be comfortable here. He has an apartment, not far from here," Angel saw the others glare at him in distrust, "You all can come with me. He'd want you with him," he said, nodding toward the helpless form in his arms, "And, Buffy, if a man calling himself Holland Manners comes calling while I'm busy with Spike, don't believe anything he has to say. Riley, I need you to raid a blood bank for me, do you have a problem with that?"

"No, I don't," Riley said.

"Angel, what are you going to do? He can't have human blood," Buffy said.

"He can't," Angel said, " but I can."
************

Angel had drank his fill of the preserved blood, and looked at Spike, who slept on, oblivious to pain, in the shimmer of Willow's magic. Angel hated taking him from that peace, even for a moment. "Buffy," he said, You might want to be close when Willow lets the magic down, to let Spike know you're still with him."

"Okay," she said, moving into position on one side of the bed.

Angel nodded toward Dawn, who moved in to flank Spike on the other side. Once the girls were in place, he checked to see if Riley was ready with the tranquilizer dart, in case things got out of hand. With Spike in this condition there was no telling what kind of emotions could come flooding into Angel's conscience. They all had to be on guard against Angelus.

Angel nodded to the girls in flanking position. Buffy and Dawn started to murmur comforting words, softly, into Spikes ear, while Angel stood with his wrist near Spike's mouth, ready to accept the fangs, when they descended. He nodded to Willow, who whispered an incantation, and the glow of light around Spike was gone.

Just as the light flickered out, Angel felt the fangs, and heard the same scream boom in his head, that he heard that night in the alley. Buffy dropped to her knees, and started to sob. It was then that Angel knew that Buffy had heard it too, and felt the horrible pain Spike had been trying to hide from her.
****************

Drusilla looked out at the dark water as it carried her back home to her boy. Normally she never listened to Miss Edith. Miss Edith was always trying to ruin her fun, and Drusilla couldn't have that, so she just ignored her. Not tonight though. Tonight the air worried about William, and Miss Edith told her to listen, and she did.

Drusilla heard her boy screaming, and she wished the boat had wings so that she could fly to him and make him better; set him free, "Hang on, my brave, brave, glowing boy," Drusilla whispered to the black waves, "I'm coming."
********************

Buffy sat on the toilet in the small bathroom, the only place in the small apartment where she could get away from the sight of Spike in that much pain. Buffy had a hard enough time hearing it, but seeing it as well, and knowing that Spike had lived with it, for months, and never let on, just made her crazy. Buffy didn't know whether to punch him silly, when he was on his feet again, or kiss him senseless. Perhaps a little of both was in order.

There came a small tapping at the door, and then Willow's voice, "Buffy, it's over. We told Spike that he should sleep, that's what Angel left to do, but, you know Spike," she giggled a little, "he said, and I quote, 'Not on your life, Red. Get Goldilocks out here, now.' And we don't want to disappoint him, now do we?"

Buffy opened the door a crack, just enough to see that Spike was sitting up, in that tiny bed, and smiling at her. Wait, Buffy thought, Spike's sitting up in bed, and is that a finger I see calling me over to him? It is, I never thought this would happen, but here it is, Spike's crooking his finger, and, here I come running.

Before Buffy knew what was happening, she was at the side of the bed sitting as close to the edge as she dared, so as not to hurt him.

"Well, Slayer, still have the reflexes I see," Spike smiled a genuine smile, "You look good, Slayer, a bit tired but otherwise, perfect, as always."

"Me," Buffy gasped, "Spike, you look... you look," she shook her head, completely at a loss for words.

Spike smirked, "Cat got your tongue, Slayer?"

When she said nothing, Spike shifted a little under the bedclothes, and looked down at his clothing, "Buffy, who dressed me in sodding bunnies? This is...well, this is...oh, who am I kidding? I couldn't care less what I'm wearing. All that matters now, is that, though I still need Dru to get back to 'Big Bad' status, and I'm weaker than a week old kitten right now, I don't think you need to wear the floor out with your worrying, Pet. Seems the old Grandsire finally did something right."

"Yeah," Buffy said, "Remind me to thank him. And to beat the tar out of you, once you can hit back, that is."

"Me," Spike asked in teasing tone, his eyes glinting with a shade of the old fire, "What on earth did I do to deserve that kind of treatment?"

"You didn't tell me how bad it was for you," she pouted, "That's what you did."

Spike's eyes dropped, "Still is bad, Pet, just not as bad as before. Still need Dru. All Peaches did was buy me some time, is all."

Buffy almost kicked herself for pushing the issue, "How much?" she asked.

"Enough," was all he said, as he leaned her head against his chest, and held her tight, as he drifted into sleep, contented, for the first time since he'd held her, just like this, in an abandoned house in Sunnydale.
 


15
The steady rhythm was comforting to him. The signs of life in this tiny room washed over him like gentle waves. The reverberation that sounded in his chest and ears was the sweetest sound Spike had ever heard. His girls were here, he was home and he was going to fight to stay. He was wanted. He was loved. Everything he could ever want was right here, in the tiny pocket universe of two girls. One whom he loved until the end of the world, the other, he'd loved beyond her death, and his. If he was dreaming he never wanted to wake up. If he was delirious, he didn't want the cure. He was home. And, he was never leaving again. He'd move heaven and earth to keep this. No one was taking it from him, again.

"Spike," Dawn's gentle voice, "wake up."

His eyes stayed shut, his arms enfolding a sleeping Slayer, "Bit, there'd better be another apocalypse, and if there is, tell Beelzebub I'm off the roster of Champions for the time being. Tell him I'll catch him on the next go, yeah?"

"It's okay," she whispered, careful not to disturb Buffy, "I just wanted to tell you that Willow and I are leaving. She set up a protection grid around the whole building, so, no one is getting in here that you don't want to get in. Angel said something about a Holland Manners. No one's getting in here without letting all of Los Angeles know it."

Spike's eyes stayed closed, "Dru?" he questioned.

"The gang knows what she looks like. And, just in case, Riley is just outside the door."

"Solider Boy rode to my rescue," Spike was more than a little shocked at that little tidbit of information, "Well then, I must be delirious."

Dawn giggled, "Glad you're here, Spike. I love you. See you tonight," she said as she shut the door.

Spike listened carefully, straining to hear his Little Bit until the last tympan of her heart faded into the white noise, and his private little duet became a solo performance.

Yes, he was home, and he wasn't going anywhere.
**********************

Drusilla knew that the time was coming. Miss Edith had told her that she would have to fight for what she had lost. That the nasty little sprite that flittered about William's heart was not going to give him up without a fight. Drusilla knew she could do it; turnabout was in the cards. William had faced the mouth of Hell, and Death herself, to see his ripe plum blossom again. She would face her, too.

Drusilla just needed one more piece to fall into place, then all the stars would align, and her treasure would be lost no more, and would be hers again, now and forever.
*********************

Her breathing became shallow, and slightly faster than it had been for the last two hours. His Slayer was waking up.

"Buffy," Spike said, in a singsong voice, "Don't dwell in dreamland too much longer. If you do, I just might have to kiss you until your head is spinning," Spike smiled at the contented sigh that escaped, as she burrowed deeper into his neck, "What was that, Pet? Didn't quite make that out."

Buffy sighed, "Do I have to? I like this dream. I don't want to wake up. This dream is so much nicer than the others."

Instinctively, Spike wrapped his hand around the back of Buffy's head, pulling her in closer, doing what little he could, now, to protect her. He was surprised to find that the words were having trouble getting past his suddenly pitifully small throat, "It's all right now. That's all over and done. Don't you worry."

Buffy came to full awareness when she heard the tight, raspy quality of his voice; it was obvious that the blood Angel had given him had not helped as much as she had hoped it would. Buffy slid away from his embrace, as gently as she could, and looked at his face. His eyes and face were shining with moisture. Spike had been crying, and from the looks of it, this wasn't the first time. "Spike," Buffy asked, unsure of what to do, "are you hurt?" Buffy began searching him for anything, any small wound she might have missed. She didn't want to add to his suffering. Buffy tried to place her hand on his face to wipe away the tears, but that seemed to hurt him even more. His chest started heaving as uncontrolled sobbing took him over. Alarmed, Buffy jumped out of the bed as if it were on fire, and asked, desperately trying to keep her own fears in check, "Spike, what is it?"

Spike shook his head, weakly, against the pillow, trying to compose himself, "No, Buffy," he choked, "it's not you. It's just, it finally hit me."

Buffy's face and body relaxed a little as she, slowly, came back to his side, "What did, Spike?" she asked as she gently wiped away the tears that had drifted back, on the pillow, away with her thumb. Buffy felt a ping of joy, as she felt Spike lean into her touch ever so slightly.

"That you're real," Spike whispered, "That this isn't a dream."

"Nope," Buffy smiled, wanting to press tiny kisses of love and reassurance into his skin, until the reality of her became a part of him, "You've got the real thing, right here," she kissed his cheek, "one hundred percent pure Buffy Summers," she leaned up on her elbow and stretched up to kiss the tip of his nose, "Live, and in, very," a little touch on his lips, and Buffy felt him shudder, "very bright Technicolor." Buffy peppered his face with kisses, vowing, silently with each one, that she would do whatever she had to do to prove to him that she did love him, and that he was not dreaming, and that her love would be the one thing he could rely on, now and forever.

Spike stopped resisting, and gave in. He let himself fall over the edge of what he knew, and let her ridiculously small, but incredibly strong arms hold him, safely, in their loving embrace. And, even though his body felt like molten lead, the nerves exploding in fire with every movement, he didn't care; he had to hold her. He reached up to the crown of her head, and slid his fingers through the rays of sunshine that she wore. The softness of her hair, the softness of her, made him whimper with the joy of having her again, and he gently held her to him.

Buffy felt the small tug, and fell, softly, with him. This wasn't the desperate, cruel, painful touch she'd always required of him before, this wasn't a touch that she intended to punish herself, or Spike, with. This touch, these kisses, was a promise. And, she realized, he was promising too. With each kiss, he was promising that he would be hers, forever.

Buffy never wanted to stop kissing him, but, suddenly, she felt lightheaded. At first, she thought it was a pleasant sensation, sort of a side effect of having Spike again, after so long a period of withdrawal. Love like this was better than any drug Buffy had ever read about, certainly better than anything she could ever dream up. But, no, this wasn't love that was making her giddy; it was lack of oxygen. What a way to go, she thought, as she reluctantly pulled away for air.

Spike sighed at the loss of contact, and giggled a little, slightly drunken from her kisses, and the way she made him feel, "Told you, Pet, I'd kiss you senseless."

"I love you, Spike," Buffy said, breathlessly, "I've never felt this alive, Spike, ever. I don't think I've ever felt this much love," Buffy looked at his face, and yes, there were burns, yes, he looked like he hadn't fed in a couple of years, and yes, she grinned, he was bald as a billiard ball, his hair hadn't grown in yet, I suppose that will come when Drusilla gets here, but, the glint in his eye, the tilt of his head as he was looking at her like she'd gone crazy, was all Spike. He was here, and he loved her. She knew that. Buffy continued, remembering another time and place, "You're the one, Spike. Now, and forever, I'll love you," Buffy kissed him again, and hoped that he knew how much she loved him.

As Buffy kissed him with all her heart, he knew that she meant what she said. She loved him. He was loved, now, and forever.


tbc

16


Buffy was kissing him. After more than a year apart, Buffy was kissing him. Not Angelus, not Soldier Boy, not that ponce who called himself "The Immortal," but him. This had to be a dream; he couldn't possibly be this lucky. Spike was absolutely over the moon. If Buffy had asked him to, at that moment, he could bring down the stars for her to pin in her beautiful hair. George Bailey was a lazy lout, giving his ladylove just the moon. Buffy wants the moon? She can have that, and the universe it came in, too. Just keep kissing me like that.

She doesn't love you. What makes you think she could love you? This is just pity. It's just a guilty conscience, she could never love the real you. What? Where did that come from? Don't pay attention; maybe he'll go away. Just concentrate on Buffy. She doesn't know who you really are, doesn't know the things you've done. Right now, Spike wished he could tear the soul right out of him. Stop it, you stupid sod, I spent a year listening to you, and Angelus, tell me how I wasn't good enough for Buffy. Now, here's living, breathing, and, oh God, she's so warm, proof that you both were wrong. She's so warm, and I'm so hungry. It would be so easy to just give in. Just a little nip, she won't even feel it. Do you think she'd love you if she saw your true face, the one you try to hide? She can never love you. No! You're wrong, she told me she loves me, and you're not going to ruin this for me again!

"...William the Bloody, this is Ground Control, come in," Buffy's voice was teasing, Spike tried to focus, just, exactly, when had she stopped kissing him?

Spike was flustered, and more than a bit spun around, by his traitorous, magical whatzit called a soul, "What?" he sputtered.

Buffy smiled warmly, "You okay? You looked like you were a million miles away for a minute there."

He tried to shrug it off, "It's nothing, Pet," he felt his throat tighten a little at the lie he was telling her, "just an old wound. Keeps nagging me, every now and again."

Buffy had noticed his face shift while she'd been kissing him, and thought that maybe, the shifting had hurt him somehow, "Really, where?" Buffy asked, concerned.

"It's not an actual wound, this is more of a metaphysical one."

Buffy's face crinkled in concentration, after all, it had been a while since she had had to use her brain when having a conversation. Spike had always been good at mental calisthenics. Of course, sometimes they didn't talk all that much, but when they had, it felt good. It kept her sharp, and on her toes. Buffy really missed not having Spike to talk to. She took a deep breath, and jumped in, "Are you talking about the soul, Spike?"

"Yes," Spike sighed, "Fought for it so that I'd fit in your world, fit with you, and then it spent two years telling me that I was lower than the dirt under your feet."

Buffy's heart ached for him. She knew what it was like to think that you didn't fit anywhere. Buffy knew that better than anyone. She'd come back from heaven, to a world that didn't need her anymore. And, then, in order to save the world, she not only had to give up Spike, but she had to give up the thing that had defined her, for seven years, being the one, and only, Slayer. Of course she knew how he felt.

"Spike, this might sound funny, coming from me, considering the emphasis I placed on it, in the past, but, the soul didn't make me love you."

His eyes went wide with surprise, "No?"
***********************************

Angel couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the battle again. Saw the look in Spike's eyes as he dove to knock him out of the fire's path. To Spike, Angel was family, warts and all, and to him that meant something. It was what had kept Spike going, when, Angel had to admit, he would have quit.

Quitting just wasn't something Spike did. The words, "It can't be done," were never strung together in his vocabulary, even from the beginning. That was something he never understood about William, and it used to drive him crazy trying to figure Spike out. Still did. Angel couldn't understand why the soul hadn't really changed Spike all that much. At least, not like it had changed him.

"Ah, but, does the soul make the man, or does the man make the soul, Angel?"

Angel wondered how he had gotten in here, the door hadn't opened, "Holland, what are you doing here?" he asked, fully prepared to drop kick him out the nearest window.

Holland looked quizzical, "Oh, I'm just pondering the mysteries of the universe, like you. People in the state you're in now, are prime real estate for the Home Office to set up shop in, and flourish. Don't want to miss the opportunity. This could lead to a promotion for me."

Angel was in no mood for banter, "To what, pond scum?"

Holland nodded, knowingly, "Keep questioning, Angel, you keep it up, at this rate, I'll be regional director before the month's out."
*******************************************

"No," Buffy said, "it wasn't the soul," she smiled, remembering the exact moment in time that she'd started to feel the feeling that everyone, her Watcher, her friends, Angel, and even she herself, said was impossible. After all, he didn't have a soul. Buffy sighed, "Do you want to know when it was that I knew? When I realized that I loved you, for the first time?"

Spike felt his arms and legs tingle with anticipation, "Yes," his body felt as tight as a spring, "Please, do tell, Slayer. I'm on pins and needles here," he smirked.

"When you held a sword, away from my head, with nothing but your bare hands," Buffy smiled, knowing he knew the moment she was talking about.

But that was back in...that was before the soul. Before that horrible night in her bathroom; before she'd jumped from that blasted tower, and plunged his world into darkness for one hundred forty-seven days, before he'd wanted her to beat him down for all of the terrible things he'd done. That was before the fire, and the burning, before her friends had been so thoughtless, ripping her out of heaven, and tearing her soul to shreds in the process, before his heart was left broken and bleeding because he'd tried to piece her back together.

Spike tried to control the rising tide of anger he felt, at her, at himself, at the world in general, and said, in a slow measured tone, "You never said anything," he looked into her soft gaze, and she was looking back, she hadn't blinked, "Why?"

Buffy could tell by his tone that she'd made him angry, and she didn't blame him at all. She should have said something long before she did. No wonder he hadn't believed her when she finally did say the words. Buffy placed her hand on his cheek, watching as his amber eyes drifted shut with the contact, "Because of the history I have," she said, sheepishly, "Vampires who know I love them, they tend to go," Buffy rolled her eyes up, trying to search for the right words, "a little, let's see, how do I put this, psychotic, and try to kill my friends. The ones without a soul, that is," Buffy paused, and Spike could see the wheels turning in her head, "Now that I think about it, the soulful ones try that too," she smirked at him, her eyes shining, "So, you see my dilemma. To tell, or not to tell, that was the question."

Buffy saw his eyes shift back to the azure hue she'd missed so much, a smirk playing on his lips, "I can see how that might be a problem," he said.
*************************

"You're wondering why she chose him, aren't you," Holland asked, "And, not just Buffy, you're wondering about Drusilla, too. What makes Spike so different? What makes people he's just met, for example, Illyria, want to protect him? Why does he seem to be able to turn enemies into allies, so quickly, while you have, for a trusted associate, an ousted Watcher who would have rather seen your own son grow up with someone who hated you, rather than risk you raising him," Holland shook his head, in pity, "It's sad, really."

"Don't mention Wesley, or Connor. Those subjects are off limits," Angel hissed at Holland, letting his demon show, to punctuate his point, "Ever again. Are we clear?"

"Oh," Holland sneered, "we're clear. Still, it makes you wonder, doesn't it? And, it's not the microchip that made Buffy and Dawn trust him. Riley told you that, if Spike had wanted to, he could have hired someone to kill all the Scoobies if he'd really wanted them dead," he gave a put upon sigh, "Or, he could have just locked them all in a wine cellar with a couple of bloodthirsty vampires, that would have gotten the job done, and no migraine for Spike, so what is it, really," Holland shrugged, "Some things will always remain a mystery, I guess."
***************************

Drusilla looked over the edge of the crater. This was where it had started. She'd seen it, all those years ago. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Her brave knight, the bravest in all the land, she'd told her Daddy so, the night she found him. He was standing down there, with all those burning, baby fish. He'd almost made it back to her, almost made it to heaven, but something pulled him back, right out of her grasp. She'd been so happy, and sad, at the same time. With him there, they could both rest. But now, she was hurting, and she wanted her Daddy to make things right again.
********************************

"What was it Darla said to you once," Holland asked, "Something to the effect of, 'What we were informs what we will become,' wasn't that it? Interesting theory. What was William?"

For Angel, examining Spike's psyche was like walking in the sun, not something he wanted to do. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, and Holland was preventing that from happening. If this is what it took to get Holland out, so he could get some rest, so be it. Angel sighed, Will this get you out of here any faster, me telling you about William?"

"Yes," Holland said.

"Fine. William was a weakling. He was never good with girls, tripped over his tongue trying to talk to them. He was the kind of person you never would notice, not in polite society. He was a wallflower, really, "Angel mused," But there was a spark of something; something that was too stubborn to die, when Drusilla made him."

Now we're getting somewhere, Holland thought, "And, what was that?"

Angel heaved an unneeded sigh, "He could love. Even with the soul gone, he could love. He wasn't empty."

"Like you are?" he asked.

"Like me," Angel said.
**************************

Buffy was pacing in the little apartment, "Spike, she can have whatever she wants. I'd give her anything she wanted, if it would help you."

Spike's muscles screamed as he struggled to push himself against the mound of pillows behind him. Buffy saw him struggling, and, after Spike collapsed halfway up, she helped him the rest of the way, hoping that her touch was gentle enough. Sometimes, when she was frightened, like she was now, she didn't know her own strength.

Spike was grateful for the help. He really didn't have it in him to handle a strategy session right now, but it couldn't be helped. Buffy needed information about Drusilla. Information not even her sire knew, information only he could give, "Buffy," Spike croaked, "with Drusilla, logic doesn't enter the picture. She doesn't know what she wants half of the time. When I took care of her," he cast his eyes down, away from Buffy's gaze, as if his next words were a shame to him, "When I loved her, I only paid attention to half of what she said. The other half, that was just gibberish."

"So, which half do I listen to?"

"If Dru starts going on about Miss Edith, that's when you listen."

"Why?"

Spike rolled his eyes, "Oh, Rupert, didn't you tell your girl anything," he looked at Buffy's confused face, "Look Pet, when a vampire gets changed, the soul leaves the house and goes into the ether, somewhere, for good or ill, wherever it is that souls go, but, even though the body's resident has vacated, and the vampire's set up in his old digs, there's always something left behind."

"What?" Buffy wondered why Giles, or Angel had never told her this. She supposed that this would make it harder for her to do her job. The Council was always a secretive bunch of morons.

"It's a bit like moving into an already furnished flat," Spike continued, "It is empty, yes. And, you bump around in it, but, there's always a reminder that someone was there first. You live there, but the walls aren't painted with colors that you're entirely fond of. Understand?"

Buffy nodded, "Why Miss Edith?"

"Miss Edith is her magical whatzit, the leftover from her life, before."

"Huh?"

"Buffy," Spike said patiently, "Drusilla was a nun before Angelus turned her. Nuns don't start out with names like, 'Sister Mary Michael,' they chose them, as part of their devotion to their new lives as nuns," he stopped; reliving the pain Angelus had caused Dru, before he'd turned her. Before, he'd admired Angelus for his inventive cruelty. But now, it just seemed over the top, "Buffy, in life, Drusilla was Edith Christine Hillary. Miss Edith."

Buffy was confused, "But you don't have a third name."

"No," Spike snapped, annoyed, "My mother named her bouncing bundle of joy, 'Spike' because she wanted to impress her biker friends!" he took a breath to calm himself, "Buffy, in your heart you know that I'm right."

Buffy looked at the sadness on his face, and wanted to comfort him, she walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, and asked, "So, what's your leftover?"

He smirked at her, "I think you know that, Pet."

"Yeah, I think I do," she said, as she leaned over to kiss him.
***********************

Angel heard a knock at his door. He had just fallen to sleep, and was angered by the interruption. Pulling his robe over his shoulders, he pulled the door open with a jerk, "Holland, I thought I told you to..."

"Daddy," the voice behind the door said.

"Drusilla," Angel whispered, in shock.
****************************

17

Buffy hadn't known what else to do. Spike's condition degraded so quickly, that the only thing she could think to do was bring in her support system and start circling the wagons around Spike. Now she was glad they were here. They helped her be strong, when Spike was obviously so weak.

Dawn looked at Buffy with wide eyes, hoping that her sister had a clue what was happening, because she sure didn't, "Buffy, when I left, Spike was fine," Dawn watched as Spike struggled against the binding field that she'd insisted Willow place him in, "He was a little tired, but he was Spike," she watched, in horror, as Spike, writhed in pain, his eyes shifting from azure to amber, and back again, never able to maintain one, or the other, for any length of time, "Now, he looks like he doesn't know where he is. Buffy, what happened?"

"I don't know what happened. He shifted while we were kissing," she looked at Dawn, "But, he held it together, at least I thought so. He was a little snippy, but, that's just Spike," Buffy tried to shut out the incoherent growling she heard coming from Spike, "Then, all of the sudden, he was demanding that I leave the room. When I said I wouldn't do that, he called Riley in and demanded to be shot with those tranquilizer darts. Riley did that," Buffy couldn't fight the tears anymore, "Then, I asked Willow to put the field up again. I thought it would help calm him," Buffy took a breath, trying to calm herself, if she couldn't calm Spike, "This is the result. I know he's hurting, wild, almost. I don't understand any of this," Buffy sobbed.

The rational part of Spike's mind knew that Buffy wouldn't understand why this was happening. He wanted to tell her to get as far away from him as possible, before he couldn't control himself anymore. The part of him that was more animal than man sensed the end was coming, and had started to lash out at anything it had to, to keep that from happening. The demon was an animal, but, just like the man inside, that had, somehow managed to cling to life with his fingernails, it did not want to die. The demon saw Buffy as its only means of staying on this plane of existence, but to do that, it needed her blood. It needed to drain her dry to survive, and the man in him was not going to let that happen. William did not want to exist if that was the price. Both demon, and man were locked in a battle for supremacy.

Just which was the stronger, not even he was sure.

Buffy saw Spike rage, snarl and spit until all his energies seemed to be exhausted, and he became still. When she was certain that he was calm enough, she had Willow disengage the binding field, and she climbed into the bed and pulled him to her, cradling him like a baby. When Spike sensed that, for now, the demon had, indeed retreated within, he whimpered to Buffy, staring at her through frightened, pleading, eyes, "Please, Buffy, I don't what to die. I want to live. Buffy, please help me?"

Buffy's voice quivered, as tears squeezed out from behind closed eyelids, "I will, Spike. If I have to drag Drusilla here myself, I swear..."

Spike's brain seized on anything to keep him grounded, keep him here, with her, "Dru," he whispered, seemingly barely touching the reality he wanted to cling to, "she asked me once, where it had gone..."

"Where what had gone, Spike?" Buffy asked, trying to keep him in the present.

"The soul," he whispered, his eyes unfocused, "I told her I knew. But, I didn't," he confessed. He remembered his mother telling him, when he was a boy, that he needed to confess if he'd told a lie, and he had, he'd told a whopper, "I only believed. I told her that her soul was in heaven. But, I didn't really know," Spike nodded a little, as if he'd made some kind of decision, "I know now, though."

Buffy tried to be brave, even though her heart was breaking into tiny shards with each word that floated from his lips, "What do you know, Spike?"

"I know that William will go to heaven. He's a good boy," he paused, and looked, with wet, unfocused eyes, into her tear-stained face, and asked her, with all the wonder of a small boy, "But, Buffy, where will I go, when I die?"

Buffy looked up into her Watcher's haggard, grief-stricken, face for the answer, but found only more questions. She did her best to be the Slayer she needed to be, "Spike, I don't want you to, but if you do have to go," Buffy caressed his face with a trembling hand, "I will follow you wherever you go," Buffy watched Spike's eyes drift shut, "That's it, Spike. You rest now. Don't worry, Drusilla will be here, soon."

Giles had seen that look on Buffy's face before, and he knew that Buffy would make good on her promises, whatever it cost her.
********************

Angel barely had her name off of his lips, when Drusilla whimpered and collapsed in his arms, "Drusilla," he gasped, catching her gently against him, then hooking his hand under her knees, carrying her to his sofa. He gently placed her on the soft leather sofa, went to the sink to get a wet cloth, and quickly returned to Drusilla, "Dru, can you hear me?"

Drusilla stirred a little, coming to slowly, "So much pain," she moaned, "William hurts so much, it's hard to see, it's too bright and sharp."

"I know, Dru," Angel choked, tapping her cheek lightly to rouse her, "but, you can't rest now, your boy needs you, Dru. You have to help."

Her eyes were suddenly bright and clear, boring into Angel's soul, "You burned him to ashes," Drusilla accused, "You wanted him to die."

"You're right," Angel admitted. He wasn't sure that Drusilla would be able to understand his reasoning. That he'd wanted to make sure Spike achieved the Shashu. He gave Drusilla a wry smile, "But, you know your boy, he can be very persuasive, and a bit stubborn, I think I've changed my mind about that."

She shook her head, her voice still accusatory, "You poisoned him."

Angel tried to keep his voice strong. Drusilla sometimes needed a firm hand, "No, Dru, I didn't. But, he will die, if you don't pull yourself together soon. Do you want that?"
****************

The scene before her disquieted Illyria; the shell still held on to the electrical charges that humans referred to as memories. This shell had expired in a slow, agonizing way, very much like what the vampire she thought of as her only confidant in this small dimension, was experiencing now. Witnessing it happening to another being, made her enraged. She stepped to his bedside, slowly shifting into the persona of her human shell, "Hey, Spike," she said, "you listen to your girls now, okay? You've got a few promises to keep, remember? You promised me a hug," her voice was soft and soothing, Illyria learned how to do this from Wesley, "I know you're busy fighting this, and I won't keep you. But, I'm gonna hold you to that promise, all right?"

Buffy tried to soothe Spike as he tried to fight the pain. She knew he was a champion, but, sometimes, even champions fight losing battles. He seemed to respond to Illyria's voice, "Oh, God, Fred, I'm slipping. There's nothing to hold on to."

Illyria shifted to her natural form, "Vampire," she said, sternly, "I require you here. And, you will stay; do you understand me?"

"...There's nothing to hold on to. I can't hold on. I can't feel my hands. Dana... no..."

At the mention of Dana's name, Buffy looked up at Giles. It seems that the Slayer was kept in the dark again.

Giles had to leave the room; he just couldn't stand to see the look of betrayal and distrust in Buffy's eyes. That was a look he hadn't seen on her face since the night he'd let Wood talk him into stalling her while he carried out his vendetta. A vendetta that, if seen through to fruition, would have doomed them all. Buffy and he had just begun rebuilding their relationship. Now, a year's worth of work seemed to be torn asunder. And, all because he didn't trust his girl's judgment.

Andrew had, indeed, told him of Spike's existence after the closing of the Hellmouth in Sunnydale. But, Giles had wanted his girl to move on. He was afraid that history would repeat itself, and following her heart, allowing herself to fall in love with a vampire, would do her heart irreparable damage.

Seeing the way Buffy looked at Spike, Giles knew that he was, sadly, right. In trying to be a good father figure for her, he'd only succeeded in driving her further from him.

"...Slayer... she took my hands. I can't hold on."

Buffy sniffled, holding him tighter, "It's all right, Spike. I've got you. I'll hold you."

Xander's fingers itched, gripping the stake in his pocket. Spike had trusted him to do this if Buffy couldn't. His throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard. Was this the right time? Was this what he wanted? Could Buffy go through with it, or would he have to do it? I've got promises to keep, he thought.
*************************

"Daddy," Drusilla asked, "will you give back what you stole from me, if I help William?"

Angel was shocked. Just where, and when, had Drusilla learned such ruthless negotiating strategy? Never mind, he knew from whom she'd learned it. She had learned from her Daddy.

"Drusilla, please," he begged, he couldn't believe he was actually begging, but, he was, he was on his knees, begging, "we're talking about your boy, here. I really can't believe you would let him die. I know I took your life," he sighed, trying to keep the tears at bay, " I know, I took your innocence. If I could, Dru, I'd give it all back, I swear."

Drusilla's face softened, "Tears, Daddy? For me? For my William?"

"Yes, Dru," Angel sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat, "please, Drusilla, don't let Spike down, not now. He took care of you, when I couldn't. Loved you, when I didn't know how. Dru, he needs you, please. "

Drusilla nodded, "All right, Daddy. Take me to him."
**********************

Buffy sobbed her heat out, rocking Spike against her chest, "Hold on, Spike, please hold on. Don't you dare give up! Not now, please not now."

She knew that he was tired; she could feel him slipping into unconsciousness. He wasn't communicating with her in words, but she could feel his feelings. He was in agony. He wanted to stay with her, with all that was in him, but the pain was so much he couldn't take it. It was so much easier to drown in the numbness of being nothing. That was easier than putting up a fight. He was just so tired and so old.

She understood the pull of the numbness. She'd let it take control of her, rather than feel the pain.

"I won't let you drown, Spike. I've got you. Drusilla will be here, soon. I know it."

There was a knock at the door. All Buffy saw was a whir of scarlet and ebony, and a familiar voice that filed her with dread and joy, at the same time, "Oh, my bright, shining, brave boy. Don't worry, Mummy's here now," Drusilla drew up close to Spike's ear, "I know it hurts. But, Mummy, and Daddy are here now, and we'll make everything right again," she said, nodding toward Angel, who was still standing in the doorway, "Won't we, Daddy?"

18

He was nervous. Anyone in his situation would be. After all, a thing like this only happens once in a lifetime. He paced by the window, watching the stars come out. Oh, great, he thought, no pressure or anything, just a few angels in attendance tonight.

His fingers fumbled with the strip of cloth, like they had for the last fifteen minutes; his hands were shaking so bad, that he might as well have been all thumbs. He finally gave up and called in the reinforcements, "Harris," he bellowed, "get in here, and help me with this bleeding thing! Isn't that what a 'Best Man' is supposed to do?"

Xander appeared in the doorway of the small room, rushing to sooth the groom's frayed nerves, "Tone down the 'Big Bad' for a night, would you? You're getting married tonight, what could go wrong?"

Spike growled low in his chest, and Xander smiled, while straightening Spike's tie, "You're right, traditionally happy times are not a Scooby thing," Xander patted Spike's shoulder as he finished with the tie, "But, at least you made it this far. That's better than I can say," he let out a sigh, "Don't follow my example, okay?"

Spike wasn't listening to him. He'd wandered over to the other side of the room, pausing near the door, trying to hear any stray sounds that might be drifting down the hall.

"Hey," Xander admonished, "no fair using vamp senses to spy on the bride."

Spike balked, "Wasn't spying. I was standing about."

"Oh," Xander smiled, "Like there's a big difference? Anyway, she's not ready yet, and she's just as nervous as you are, trust me."

Spike looked at him at him, and shook his head, letting out a sigh, "Don't think that's possible, mate."
*******************************

Buffy watched as Drusilla gazed into Spike's fevered eyes, "Look at me, William," she singsonged, "See with your heart."

Buffy didn't like this; she knew what Drusilla could do, once someone was in her thrall. One swipe of those fingernails, and it could be all over for Spike, "What are you doing," Buffy asked, watching Drusilla's every move, like the predator, like the Slayer, she was.

The face that Buffy had expected to be hard, and accusatory, looking back at her instead, was soft and warm, almost like a mother's would be, when faced with a sick child, "What Daddy and I have planned will take some time. I thought I would give him some pretty pictures to look at while we work," Drusilla nodded, acknowledging that, for a brief moment, she and the Slayer were on the same side, "Maybe lessen his pain some. Right now, it's too bright. I can't even bear to look at it, and he's been looking at it so long, his eyes are strained and tired."

"Oh," Buffy nodded, pulling Spike tighter in to her, "that's okay then."

"Do you have somewhere a little less crowded," Drusilla asked, "Miss Edith doesn't like all these nasty people around. I think she's a bit frightened."

Buffy was shocked, "If you think, for one minute, that I'm going to..." she paused, remembering what Spike had told her. She rethought her strategy, "Drusilla, do you think Miss Edith would let me talk to Daddy first? Maybe he has some ideas that might help?"

"Miss Edith says that would be all right. But, we must start soon," Drusilla warned.

Buffy nodded, climbing out of the bed and heading for the doorway, "I'll be quick, I promise."

Once Buffy was out of the room, she put herself between Angel and Spike, a closed door at her back, "Angel, just what is it Drusilla's planning on doing, here?"

Angel sighed, again unable to look her in the eye, "She wants her soul back. Dru wants what I took from her," he sighed again, "As payment, for helping Spike."

"What?" Buffy gasped, "But, that's crazy, no one, in their right mind, would do that! Spike is like her child, right? What mother would make someone pay them for saving their own child?"

Angel laughed, and gave Buffy a rueful smile, "Someone not in their right mind. That's my fault, too."

A plan was starting to form in Buffy's mind. She bit her lip, in thought, "Did she ask for payment, up front?"

"No," Angel said, confused, "But, if we don't do something, Spike will die, and she'll just sit there, and watch it happen."

"Maybe," Buffy mused, a slow grin pulling at her lips, "Maybe not," she said, eyes glinting with fire as she went back into the room, dragging Angel along behind her, "Come on," Buffy said, " I learned the art of doubletalk from a master."

"Who?" Angel asked.

"Who do you think," she said, then, turning her eyes to Drusilla, Buffy said, sweetly, "Drusilla, sweetling, do I have a deal for you."
***************************

The small gazebo at the edge of the footpath had been set aglow with candlelight. On either side of the winding, cobblestone path, leading to the shelter of the white lattice-framed structure, little pinpoints of light broke up the black of the night. Each small little flame was important tonight. And, the candles seemed to sense that their job was crucial, and glowed, just ever so much brighter, for the knowledge that, tonight, they were lighting the path for a bride to follow to her groom. No candle even dared think of flickering out tonight. The bride mustn't trip, in her beautiful, white gown. Tonight, two hearts were being joined, and they must be surefooted.

Under the gazebo, three people waited. There was the minister, who looked out of place, and a bit impatient. After all, this sort of thing was usually done in a church, in the daytime.

The best man, sensing the man's disquiet, whispered to him, "Hey, this is Los Angeles. Out here, we kind of go with the flow," Xander looked at his watch, "9:30," he said, eying the groom, who was chain smoking, very quietly in the corner, if corners were possible in a roughly hexagonally shaped structure, "T minus ten minutes. Better put that out," he said, nodding toward the glowing cigarette, "Or wedding or not, she'll have your head."

Spike gave a sheepish look, and then dutifully crushed the cigarette with the toe of his shoe, and pushed the butt out into the grass, "Better?" he asked.

"Much," Xander said, satisfied.

Spike wanted to check one last thing, "Harris, do you have the rings?"

Xander checked his pockets. He'd thought about razzing Spike a little, but thought better of it, seeing as how the groom had a tendency to grow fangs when provoked. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the tiny velvet box, opened it, to be sure the rings were safely inside, closed it, and returned it to his pocket, "Yes, sir," he smiled, "ready to go."

"Good," Spike said, not really paying attention to him. Spike's attention was drawn to the small building, far up the footpath; he thought he saw a blur of white, amid the blush of pink the bridesmaids wore. He wanted to be sure, but couldn't risk shifting into the face that was better at night vision, for fear of frightening the minister off, "I think I see her," his face softened, at the vision in gossamer white, floating down the cobblestones, toward him, "Oh, my..." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Xander was ready for this. After all, underneath the leather and the swagger, Spike really was on old softie at heart. He pulled out his handkerchief, and handed it, with as much macho flourish as he could, to Spike.

Buffy really does look beautiful, Xander thought, as he dabbed his eyes.
*************************************

"So, we have a deal then," Buffy asked Drusilla, "Once I'm sure Spike's all right, you'll get your payment?" Buffy tried to keep her tone even, "The one we agreed on," Buffy nodded, hoping Drusilla was cogent enough to understand, "That's much better than anything Daddy could promise. And, it's a sure thing. Souls can be tricky things," Buffy nodded toward Angel, "Ask your Daddy. Here one minute, and gone the next. Never can trust them."

Dru seemed hesitant, "I don't think that's right. Daddy promised..."

"Ask Miss Edith, if you want to," Buffy interrupted, "Has she ever lied to you?"

"No," Drusilla admitted.

"Buffy, I don't think..." the rest of Angel's comment was cut off by an elbow to the ribs.

"Good," Buffy said, "So, let's get started then."
*********************

The minister was talking, but he wasn't listening. Spike was busy looking at her. At how the starlight bounced off of her glowing skin, the softness of her palms as he glided his thumbs over them. Her face was glowing with a light he'd never seen in her before, and it was all for him. He looked down, to try to shield his eyes from the brightness, and to hide the fact that he couldn't see for the tears in his eyes, at her small feet. Those small feet, so capable of kicking him until his head fell off, were now adorned in small lace slippers. The slippers were so small, he doubted he could even fit his hand inside them.

He took his eyes off of her feet, and brought them back to their joined hands. His left hand, and hers, was wearing a small, silver ring. It was a little bit of nothing, really. But, it meant so much. He knew, somewhere, his mother was proud. He'd finally found her; his one, his perfect fit.

He looked up when the minister stopped talking. They were expecting something, what was it? Oh right. The kiss.

His lips touched hers just as she bit her lip, bringing a tiny bit of blood to his tongue. This, he had not expected, and his vision exploded in a pyrotechnic display bigger than the Fourth of July.
*************************************

Buffy watched as Drusilla pressed Spike's face to her neck, and let him drink. She could see the muscles in his throat working slowly at first, than faster as his need grew.

Even after the first feeding he was looking much better, almost like he had after Glory had beaten him, if that could be called better. Oh, well, everything is relative, she thought. Of course, there was still no hair, but this was only the first feeding.

Buffy became curious about something, and left the room to talk to Willow.

"Willow, can you tell me what he's seeing?"

"Buffy, you want me to eavesdrop on his magical pain killer," Willow winked at her, "Buffy, I'm shocked."

"Please, Willow," she asked, her eyes downward.

"Sure," she said, closing her eyes, "Just take me a second."

Willow found herself staring at a small white gazebo, next to a candle lit path. She moved in a little closer, to try and see the figures in the center, they looked like a bride and groom. She smiled. Someone was getting married.

She looked closer. Now, she could make out the faces. Once they stopped kissing, she should be able to tell who they were, exactly. Yes, she was right, they were a bride and groom.

"Oh Buffy," she whispered as she opened her eyes, "It's just beautiful," Willow sniffed a little, "You look so beautiful."

"What?" Buffy asked, her body suddenly tight with anticipation.

Willow smiled, "Buffy, he's getting married...to you."

"Really?" she asked, suddenly awash in love for him, "I'm his 'Happy Thought'?"

Buffy knew, for the first time, that even though there were still some miles to go yet, things were going to be all right.


Chapter 19
Little Girls

Dawn watched Spike, and heaved a little sigh of relief. With Drusilla's help, he was getting better, and soon he would be back to his old self. He'd be the 'Big Bad' again, on her case about anything, and everything, she did.

He still looked pretty banged up, but Drusilla promised to be back at sunset, so, everything was going to work out. As long as he didn't have to fight any baddies anytime soon, everything would be fine.

Buffy came into the apartment, after making sure Drusilla was safely stowed at the Hyperian for the day. Drusilla loved the idea of staying at her Daddy's "dollhouse" for the day. She wasn't so hyped about the refrigerated blood, but said, that she would make the sacrifice, to make her boy strong again.

"How's our patient, Dawn?" Buffy asked, quietly shutting the door, trying not to disturb Spike.

Dawn looked at her sister's face. She was pasty white, and the circles under her eyes were darker than Spike's signature wardrobe. Dawn winced at the sight of her, "Better than you, right now," she nodded toward Spike as she said, "You'd better sit down. If he saw you like this," she drew her face up, in a weak imitation of a vampire's visage, "he'd be all 'Grr, argh,' and tell you to go straight to bed, and sleep for two days."

Buffy sighed, coming to stand by her sister, and looking down into Spike's face longingly, "Would almost be worth the hassle; to see him sparkle again, you know?"

Dawn nodded, "Yeah, I know what you mean," she said, "Sometimes, I'd get into trouble, just to see how mad he'd get at me," she smiled, "It let me know he loved me, just a little."

Buffy squinted at Dawn. This was new information, "When was this, Dawnie?"

"That summer. Before Willow did that spell. He was kind of... out of it, for a while. Protecting me, I guess, gave him focus."

"He loved you Dawnie, you know that, right?" Buffy asked, seeing her sister's eyes cloud over with tears, "He loves you now. Just as much, maybe more, than he did then."

"He told you?" she asked, hopeful.

Buffy shook her head, "No, Dawn, he didn't," she smiled, "He was inside my head for a while, remember? I still have to ask Angel how that's even possible. Vampires aren't supposed to be able to cast any type of reflection, not even their thoughts are supposed to reflect," she waved off the thought, "Anyway, I can still hear him sometimes. It's sort of like a buzzing, you know, like background noise? But, sometimes it's real clear," she smiled again, "He comes in really clear when he's thinking about you. He loves you."

"Really?"

"Really, Nibblet," Spike grumbled, from the bed, "And, if you two ladies don't keep it down, I'll never get any sleep."

"Oh," Dawn gasped, covering her mouth, to prevent a squeal of surprise, and joy, from escaping, "Sorry, Spike! I'll be quiet," she said, grinning at him, " I promise!"

Spike opened one eye. His voice and eye, held a barely contained joy, and Buffy knew that, if he'd had the strength, he would've jumped out of bed to hug her sister, and her, "No, you won't, Bit. I know this from experience, Summers girls are never quiet. It's physically impossible for them to be," he paused when he heard a coughing noise from Buffy, "It's just one thing, on the list of a million things, that I love about you two."

"We love you, too, Spike," Dawn said.

Spike caught a glimpse of Buffy, in the corner of the room, trying to disappear into the wallpaper so that she didn't disturb her sister's moment with him, "Bit's right, Love. If I thought it would help, I'd throw you over my shoulder, weak or not, and take you to bed," at Buffy's sly grin, he added, "To sleep! You look like the walking dead! And this is coming from someone who is the walking dead. Get some sleep, Love, you need it."

"I will," she sighed, "Just as soon as I talk to Giles."

"What did old Rupert do now, Love?"

"It's not what he did, it's what he didn't do," Buffy said as she neared the door, "You'll be all right, with Dawn?"

"Yes," Spike said, "I'm sure there's some prepubescent boy band that Bit's just itching to tell me about," he smiled at her, fully awake, "And for once, I can't use the excuse of patrol to skip out on a gripping conversation," he rolled his eyes, "I'm sure she's just loving this. Aren't you, Bit?"

Buffy smiled as her sister nodded her head, vigorously, "I'll be back soon," she said, as she left the apartment.
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Drusilla sat in front of the empty vanity mirror in the privy of the tiny room in her Daddy's dollhouse and thought of all the countess nights William had spent, brushing her raven tresses until they glowed in the moonlight. Those were some of the happiest nights she'd had. He'd been so loving; she counted herself lucky to have him. It was nights like that, that made her grateful she had listened to Miss Edith that night, long ago, in the stable. That woman hadn't been worthy of having a heart such as his. If that woman couldn't see the wealth he had, she would take it. Most of the wealth that he'd carried that night had flown to Miss Edith, but Drusilla was happy with the little that had been left for her.

Drusilla hadn't wanted to give William to the Slayer. But, her boy had such a strong heart; it knew what it wanted, and it needed the light. Even though she grieved his loss, and had tried to show him that it could be good with her, that he could still be her beautiful poetry, she knew he was like Icarus. He had to fly close to the sun, even if he knew he'd drown because of it.

Then, that evil little sprite had the gall to tell him he was broken. She'd told him that his golden heart wasn't good enough. So, like the brave knight she knew her boy was, he sought the broken piece, the piece he hadn't needed, the part that had been Miss Edith's, to keep, and shoved it in his chest, for all the world to see.

Now, Miss Edith missed her sweet William. Drusilla knew what it was like, to lose someone you loved dearly. She'd lost her Daddy, and William, too, to that nasty little sprite. She couldn't bring them both back, but she could give William back to Miss Edith, and make the Slayer pay, for making William cry.

Daddy had been wrong. But then, Daddy still thought she was a little girl. When she'd been little, she'd wanted her songbird to sing to her again. But, little girls grow up, and put away childish things. Because Daddy had been mistaken, the sprite had given Drusilla the opportunity to bring William back to Miss Edith, and she would be a fool if she didn't take it.
***************************

Buffy found Giles, talking with Riley, outside the apartment.

She approached Giles, who looked at her with guilty eyes. Good, she thought, maybe now he'll know that I'm not a little girl anymore. "Giles," she said, "we need to talk."

"I know," he said, his head bowed, "Buffy, you have to know, I had my reasons for what I did."

Riley had seen the look in Buffy's eyes before, he knew when to, "duck, and cover." He left to take a noonday stroll. Riley thought that maybe he'd better warn the National Guard, of the impending disaster that he was sure was going to result from the "conversation" that was going to take place. "Excuse me," he said, "while I go find another zip code to be in," he patted Giles's shoulder, in a gesture of sympathy, and left them to talk.

"Giles," Buffy said, "it seems that you might have known about Spike, before, is this true, or did I just imagine that you looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, before Drusilla showed up, last night?"

"I did know," he admitted.

Buffy had expected to be shocked, but she wasn't. She nodded, "Do you mind telling me why you didn't tell me?"

"Buffy, I saw how much you grieved for him. I held you while you cried, while you wondered where it was that he had gone," he sighed, "I knew what you said you felt like, after you'd returned from heaven. You weren't yourself, everything around you brought you pain, and misery," Giles nodded toward the door, and the resting vampire behind it, "If he'd had that, and been torn from it, he mightn't be the same being you had loved. The vampire, who'd risked everything, to save you, and the world you lived in."

Buffy swallowed hard, "Go on," she said.

"If he had gone to some sort of hell," Giles continued, "he might have been wild, unpredictable. He might have been so tortured that he would have been unable to love you, even if he'd wanted to. Buffy, he might have hurt you, regardless of where he'd been. And, I just couldn't risk you being hurt again, if I could do anything to prevent the hurt."

Buffy admired the fatherly instinct, even as she was angry. Giles loved her, more than even her own, biological, father had, "But, Giles," she said through a tight throat, "you can't protect me from life. I learned that, when I tried to protect Dawn like you tried to protect me. Life happens, whether you're ready for it or not," she smiled, a wet smile, "Don't get me wrong, I'm very angry at you right now. But, I understand the impulse. You have to remember, that little girls grow up."

"I think I may need reminding, at times," Giles said.

"The next time you forget that," Buffy said, "I will give you a good right hook to remind you."

"I'd expect nothing less," he said.
**********************

"You mean, Drusilla's actually here," Spike asked, "I didn't dream that?"

"Nope," Dawn grinned, "She's here. A few more nights, and she says you'll be well enough to travel."

"Travel," Spike was confused, "Bit, where are we going, and what's that you said about a 'deal' with Buffy?"

"Drusilla wants to take you to the Hellmouth. To make you stronger. And, as far as the deal goes, Buffy won't tell me, but I don't care," she said, "as long as you're better."

The fear he felt made his heart freeze, "I care, Bit," he said, "I care, very much."
**************