--

Dawn had been comforted and sent to bed, her mother sitting with her until she fell asleep. Glory had been teleported elsewhere, although Buffy knew from the last time that she’d be back soon with no damage done.

The rest of those involved were all seated around the Magic Box. No one spoke, but Buffy saw them all darting surreptitious glances at her, wondering if it were true. If she were really who she claimed she was.

Past!Buffy spoke finally, shattering the tense silence. “So. Anya, you’re…”

“Future Anya,” Buffy confirmed. “I was sent back in time by-“

“No.” Giles cut her off. “It’s best if we’re not told too much, regardless of whether or not these things may come to pass again. Believing that you know your destiny can often force it to occur again, regardless of the change in situation.”

Buffy smiled gratefully at him. “Yeah, I guess so. But you may as well know why I came back, if we have to change it no matter what.”

“I can’t believe that we didn’t figure it out before,” Willow marveled. “I mean, you’ve been acting really different lately. Xander even thought that you were possessed.” She frowned suddenly. “Which, I guess you kind of are. By yourself. Weird.”

Buffy glanced at Xander. He hadn’t said a word since her revelation, just stared at her unblinkingly with burning brown eyes. She couldn’t read him at all. “Yeah. I guess.”

“What was your mission?” Spike asked from his corner. He, too, had been staring at her, but with a sharp gaze that knew far too much. Buffy looked away quickly. Spike she was most worried about. If he put two and two together and realized that she was Buffy…

“Glory! To stop her,” Buffy blurted out, disoriented from Spike’s steady gaze.

“You mean we don’t?” past!Buffy asked dubiously. “Shouldn’t you be…I don’t know, dead then?”

Buffy smirked. You have no idea. “No, you do beat Glory. Problem is, Buffy, you die in the process.”

Willow gasped, her eyes wide, and clutched Tara’s hand. Spike flinched visibly. Giles took off his glasses and rubbed at them furiously with a handkerchief.

Past!Buffy met her gaze evenly. “That’s all?”

Buffy stared at her former self, and Spike’s words from the now not-so-distant past reverberated through her mind.

“Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's going to catch you. And part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it… Every Slayer has a death wish…”

Past!Buffy wasn’t afraid of dying, not as long as it was for a good reason. And although she didn’t beg for it, like she would in a year, she wasn’t averse to the idea. The idea sent chills through Buffy’s body. Not again…

“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t stay dead. It throws the balances between good and evil out of whack, and the First Evil gains power. The only way to defeat it was to balance good again, this time by activating a boatload of Slayers.”

“Activating multiple Slayers at once?” Giles was pulling out his journal, writing furiously. “That’s quite unprecedented. How-?”

“You don’t need to know that,” Buffy reproached him gently, and he nodded reluctantly. She continued. “The mass Slayer thing is a disaster. Once they realize that they’re strong enough to be in control, some go a little power-crazy. War breaks out, and Slayers kill Slayers. It’s anarchy.”

“So your job is to stop it all from happening by keeping Buffy alive,” Tara concluded.

“Or making sure I stay dead,” past!Buffy said quietly.

Buffy clenched her jaw, shuddering at the paradox that keeping herself dead would create. “We’re keeping you alive. Period.”

“I quite agree,” Giles said hastily, setting the journal down. “Is there any information you might have concerning Glory? How she was defeated last time, any weaknesses she might have?”

Buffy shook her head frustratedly. “That’s the thing. I know that there’s something I’m missing, something that just doesn’t make sense about the whole Glory battle, but I can’t grasp it. I mean, there are no gaps in my memory, but there are some things that just don’t make sense. Like…”

Glory being killed by Giles? Could that have actually happened? Or her sudden appearance when we were running away? And how did she get to Dawn tonight, anyway? Why would she have been in the hospital?

“Something’s missing,” she finished wearily.

“A spell,” Willow suggested. “Maybe we can lift it, and…”

“Not if you were sent back by magic, too,” Tara objected. “That might invalidate both spells.”

Giles sighed. “Is there anything else?”

“Oh! The troll hammer!” Buffy remembered. “And that Dagon’s Sphere. Both were able to hurt Glory. And there was the Buffybot-“

“Buffybot?” Spike repeated, his eyebrows raised. Right. She’d mentioned it to him before.

“There was a guy who makes robots. We had him make one of m-Buffy. As a decoy!” she added hastily, not meeting Spike’s eyes.

“Sounds kind of creepy,” Willow said, making a face. “Like some kind of-“

“Don’t even say it,” past!Buffy said in disgust.

Buffy nodded in full agreement. “You can decide if it’s worth it. It was a huge part of what saved the day, though.”

“Then we’ll have to look into it,” Giles agreed, making a note in his journal. “I think that’s enough for now. I’ll do some more research on Glory, and any spells she may have cast to protect herself.”

“Yeah, I’m going to turn in, too,” Willow yawned. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” Past!Buffy left almost immediately, too, followed by Spike.

Soon, only Xander was left in the shop with her as she locked up. “Do you mind if I still stay with you?” she asked shyly. “I know that I’m not your Anya, but…”

He stared blankly at her, finally speaking for the first time. “We’re not together in the future, are we.” It wasn’t a question.

She looked away. “How do you figure?”

“How do I figure?” he asked incredulously. “You won’t even kiss me anymore! It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Xander opened the car door for her, gesturing for her to climb in. “But it doesn’t…”

He sat next to her, his eyes earnest. “Tell me what I did. Did I ruin it? Can I…can I make it right?”

Buffy’s heart broke for him there, remembering the loneliness that had followed the Hellmouth’s closing for Xander. He’d dated a Slayer or two, a Watcher, even Dawn for a brief period of time, but he’d finally settled for an ordinary girl whom he’d married three years after Sunnydale and never told the truth about what really happened after dark. She’d been killed by a Golshak demon two months later.

We’re not made for normal, Xander and I. We’re made to love what’s long gone, and never to move on properly. This chance that I’ve been given for happiness? It’s Xander’s chance, too.

“You left me at the altar,” Buffy said finally. “You were so afraid of becoming your father that you threw away any chance you had of becoming a better father than he was.”

“Oh, god,” Xander breathed. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” she said gently. “You would. You tried to date me afterwards, said that you wanted to keep up the relationship. But you’d hurt me too much.”

“But now I know!” He turned to her, his eyes shining with sudden hope. “I can stop it, right? Make things right!” He took her hand suddenly, worry apparent on his face. “Are you happy?”

“What?” she asked blankly.

“Are you happy without me?” He looked away. “I mean, you’re clearly not dying to be with me now. And if you have a better life...”

Buffy smiled at him fondly. “Don’t be a martyr. I guarantee you, if you treat Anya the way you’re treating me now, if you respect her and don’t reject her, you’ll both be happy together. Far happier than you are in the future.”

“We are,” he corrected, squeezing her hand.

She squeezed back. “I want you to save it for your Anya, okay? This isn’t where I belong.”

“And where do you belong?” he asked softly.

With Spike.

She gazed out the window contemplatively. “In a better future.”

--

“Hi.”

Buffy spun around, clutching her robe closed tightly. “What the hell, Spike?”

He smirked, his eyes drinking in her form hungrily. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were busy.”

“Sure,” she growled, forcing down the lusty feelings that were bubbling up at the sight of Spike in her bedroom. Right after her shower. While she was naked. Gah. “You know, if you knocked at the front door instead of climbing through my window, we wouldn’t have these problems!”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be nearly as interesting,” he leered, and she felt a full body flush coming on.

She threw her towel at him half-heartedly. “Go away.”

“What do you think about Anya’s revelation?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

She sighed and sat down on her bed, tying the belt of the robe closed and crossing her legs. “I don’t know. I guess it makes sense, even if it sounds ridiculous. It would be easier if she were just some malicious demon or something, but she only told us to save Dawn. So I’m inclined to believe her. How about you?” she asked curiously. “You two have been all buddy-buddy lately.”

“Yeah, that’s probably just since she’s been Future Anya, I’d wager.” Spike leaned against the bed’s headboard. “We must be close in the future or something.”

“She’s in love with you,” Buffy said, sounding annoyed despite herself. “Obviously.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, seems like it.”

“And now she doesn’t have to be with Xander. So why don’t you go wait for her to come on to you in your crypt?” It came out snippier than she’d intended.

Spike shrugged. “Don’t think she wants to, or she would have already.” He leered at her lasciviously, running his tongue over his front teeth. “Besides, I like this much better.”

Buffy felt her old insecurities rising at that. “Oh, great. Well, the consolation prize isn’t interested!” she snapped, getting up to leave the room.

Quick as lightning, Spike was in front of her, shutting the bedroom door firmly. “I don’t believe you,” he murmured, reaching out to place a hand on her cheek.

She stared at him, motionless, refusing to allow herself to think about what was happening. If she thought about it, she’d probably run.

He cupped her face in his hand, stroking tendrils of damp hair with the tips of his fingers. “’Was going to wait for you to come to me, pet. But you know me.”

“Couldn’t even wait for Saturday to kill me,” she managed, as he traced the contours of her lips, slipping a finger into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it obediently, sucking it in deeper. He let out a gasp, and a thrill passed through her at his reaction. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, she chanted mentally.

He guided her backward until she was bent over on her bed, Spike hovering on top of her. She pulled him down for a kiss, sighing when his lips fixed onto her throat instead. Figures that the vampire would go for the neck, she thought dreamily. Then he rose upward, his lips meeting hers in a soul-drowning kiss, so intense and all-encompassing that she was lost in moments, falling into an endless pool of Spike, and nothing but him. She was gone.

Then he had to ruin it all.

“Love you,” he gasped, rolling over onto his side and pulling her against him. “Love you so much, Buffy.”

She shoved him away, horrified. “What??” she demanded, tightening the sash on her robe. “No! You can’t!” Lust after her, fine. Kiss her, not so fine. But love her? The mother of all not-fine-ness! “You don’t have a soul! You’re not-“

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, reaching for her.

She darted out of his grasp. “I can’t do this,” she said, pacing. “I can’t believe I just did this! What if Dawn heard, or Mom!”

Spike frowned, cocking his ear and focusing. “They’re both fast asleep.”

“I let you near my neck!” Buffy continued, ignoring him. “A soulless, evil vampire! What kind of Slayer am I? They’ll have to warn all the new Slayers, ‘Don’t be like Buffy the Vampire Boinker.’ Oh, god, I’m terrible at this! How could I?”

“Do you need a diagram?” Spike asked sarcastically, watching her warily.

Buffy turned on him. “And you!” She stabbed a finger at him angrily. “You’re not in love with me. You’re just obsessed! You’re nothing! Just an evil, soulless-“

“Stop that,” Spike growled, crossing the room to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. “You loved it just as much as I did, and we both know it!” He yanked her to him, latched his mouth onto hers and she batted at him half-heartedly before she kissed him back with ardor.

Soon, they were back on the bed, lips locked like they hadn’t been together in years.

“Love you,” Spike whispered, kissing a trail up the arch of her cheekbone.

“Don’t,” she squirmed, but he held her down firmly and she relaxed again.

“Love you,” he growled, nipping at her lips. “Love you!”

“Shut up.” She clapped a hand onto his mouth, focusing instead on a particularly delectable spot of forehead.

“Mmph- Love you!” he rumbled, kissing her hand gently.

“Stop saying it,” she said as he finally rolled away from her, both of them sated with kisses for the moment. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“’S what made Captain Cardboard leave, huh?” Spike sighed, and she jerked away, outraged.

“How dare you!”

Judging from his eyes, he seemed to sense that he’d crossed a line, but his mouth charged on. “You won’t accept love from anyone but Tall, Dark, and Broody. Soldier Boy knew it, too. That’s why you-”

“You bastard!” Buffy hissed at him. He could be so stupid sometimes. Just when she had finally warmed up to him, he started spewing this crap? What the hell?

Spike’s eyes widened as he finally realized that she was genuinely angry. “Wait, Buffy…”

She couldn’t stay in the room with him anymore. “I really don’t want to see you right now.” She rose, heading for the door. This time, he didn’t stop her. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Get up and get out.”

“I’m sorry,” he called out plaintively.

She pretended she didn’t hear him, her body and heart aching at the sound of his voice.

--

Life didn’t change much after her revelation, Buffy discovered. Xander treated her the same way as he had beforehand, with the mixture of respect and love that was becoming customary with them. He slipped every now and then, but now Buffy was able to call him on it and warn him not to speak like that to Anya. Giles and Willow regarded her with fascination, like she was a puzzle to be solved, but at least Willow wasn’t picking fights with her anymore. It seemed like she’d finally recognized that if Anya were working with them in the future, she was probably okay, after all.

The problems started when the train full of corpses came into town, and past!Buffy came to visit the Magic Box.

“So,” she said, climbing up onto the Magic Box counter. “A train full of corpses came into town today. Loads of neck trauma.”

“Mm-hm,” Buffy said noncommittally. She knew this one, but had the feeling that it might go differently this time. From what she’d been able to glean, past!Buffy and Spike had already stumbled into their post-Glory relationship. Past!Buffy had been avoiding Spike lately, and thusly avoiding Buffy, too, since she’d somehow become their only cheerleader. Spike wouldn’t even confess to what had happened. She’d gone to his crypt twice to visit and been treated to equal mumblings about how much he’d messed up and much of a stupid bint her past self was. Not to mention the breaking of many objects during his barely audible rants. Buffy considered herself the expert in all things Spike and Buffy, and was pretty sure that the facts equaled up to Romantic Encounter Followed By Botched Conversation. Pretty much a classic.

Oh, well. Maybe Drusilla’s arrival would speed things up.

“And?” past!Buffy said expectantly. “Is it connected to Glory? Or is it something else entirely?”

Buffy shook her head. “I can’t give you all the answers. What would be the point?”

Past!Buffy shrugged. “Well, I find out anyway, right? So you might as well tell me, and then I can beat whatever did it. Why does it matter how I found out?”

Buffy sighed. “Let me put it like this.” She considered her younger self for a moment. “Say I’d been sent back to when you were first called, with the mission to help you defeat Glory. But because I’d know what was going on, I’d take care of Darla early. And the Master. And stop Angelus from breaking free, or Spike and Drusilla from putting together the Judge. Then I’d keep the Mayor from ascending, the Initiative from showing up, Adam from…”

“I get it,” past!Buffy cut her off. “You’d fight my battles for me.”

“You wouldn’t be very strong like that, not hardened by dying or Angelus or even Faith’s betrayal. You’d be a Slayer who only gets by because of her friends.”

“But this is different,” past!Buffy protested. “I lose this time. And you’re here to keep that from happening. So anything that happens until then is just window dressing for the real fight.”

Buffy thought of Dru, of Warren, of the thousand tiny things that would happen from then until past!Buffy’s time of death. “No, it’s really not. It’s better if you learn these things as they happen, the way that they happen.” She circled the counter to check the prices for Ketarlar wings.

Past!Buffy followed her, waiting until she was still to force her to meet the other girl’s eyes. “So there’s nothing vital that I should really know beforehand?”

Joyce Summers, stretched out on the couch, her unseeing eyes glazed over in death… “No. Nothing.”

--

Spike had had enough of the caginess, of the hiding, of the damned girl running from him every time she sensed him. “Wait!” he growled, taking advantage of the one-exit mausoleum the Slayer had ventured into the moment she’d caught sight of him to corner her at last.

She sighed audibly before turning away from him. “Fine. Talk.”

He glared at her back. “You can’t just pretend there’s nothing between us because I made one stupid comment!”

“There’s nothing between us,” she retorted. “We kissed. Fine. But it meant nothing.”

“It meant everything!” he said, genuinely shocked at her comment. He’d felt something intense that day both times they’d been together. He just knew that she had, too. “I love you, Buffy!”

“Stop saying that!” she snapped. She finally turned, her expression irritated and impatient. “Look, I was on edge about the whole Dawn situation. That’s why…it…happened. But it won’t happen again. I can’t be with you.” She moved around him, to the mausoleum door.

“Can’t or won’t?” Spike challenged, following her out of the cemetery and toward the Bronze. “You’re not the type of girl to just make out with any random wanker from the street. Well, except that one time,” he amended, remembering the idiot from his day in the sun.

It didn’t occur to him until after she’d punched him in the nose that dredging up that particular humiliation wasn’t such a good idea.

~

Inwardly, Buffy was fuming. Inwardly, she was tearing off Spike’s limbs piece by piece and setting them on fire. Inwardly, she was taking a hose of holy water to his body. Really deep inwardly, she was lost in his embrace somewhere in the Bronze bathrooms, but she was resisting that particular impulse easily. I don’t need to avoid him when he makes it so easy to hate him when we’re around each other, she noted wryly.

She pretended that he wasn’t still following her and took a seat with her friends. Xander was doing a night job, so it was just Willow, Tara, and the as-always-inscrutable Anya, future edition. Who was keeping things from her. And had already figured out far too much about her relationship with Spike. And was in love with Spike. Not that that bothered her at all.

“All done with patrol?” Willow asked cheerily.

Buffy nodded, sinking down next to her with relief. Spike wouldn’t come over to them, would he?

Oh, crap. Yes, he would.

But instead of talking to her, he took Anya’s hand and pulled her to the dance floor, holding her close and murmuring in her ear.

Buffy glared at them, stung. So now I’m not worth the bother? She discarded her prior anger at Spike in favor of the much simpler jealousy.

~

Spike rocked back and forth, Anya light in his arms. “You don’t mind, do you, kitten?”

“You mean making Buffy jealous?” Anya asked, sighing a little at his closeness. “Not in the least bit. Whatever keeps you two at it is whatever I’ll do.”

Unbidden, his lips rested against her neck for a moment before he reminded himself that he was interested in Buffy, not Anya, and letting his feelings get out of hand for this girl would cause far too much trouble. Particularly because this was a temporary gig for her, and he didn’t want to lose the girl to Harris when present!Anya returned.

Well, that, and she didn’t make him crazy the way Buffy did. He envisioned a future where he and Buffy could grow into the relationship that he and Anya had now, a relationship where they were comfortable and content with each other…plus passion. Lots and lots of it.

He wondered what kissing Anya would be like.

“Oh, no, Mister,” Anya said reproachfully, as though she’d known what was on his mind. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not gonna happen.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” Spike demanded. “We seem to get along fine. You can actually stand the sight of me, and I’d bet all my kittens that if we were together, you wouldn’t kick me out when you got scared!”

Anya looked trapped. “I can’t answer that,” she said at last.

“Why n-“ He froze. That wanker from the hospital, the one who had helped Buffy out when she’d been preoccupied with her mum’s illness, was talking to her. And dancing with her. And she was smiling at what he was saying.

“Although that’s one answer,” Anya commented, looking at his tightened jaw as he watched his beloved dancing with someone else.

He barely heard her, his eyes fixed on Buffy. She shook her hair out of her face in a move that would have had Venus herself in throes of envy, and her eyes caught his. For a moment, she looked vulnerable, contrite, even. Then she looked away again, accepting the paper that her partner handed to her.

Spike let go of Anya in mid-sway and stormed out of the Bronze.

~

Buffy pulled herself to her feet, rubbing her arm where she’d fallen when Spike had dropped her. Yeesh. Remind me never to get between a lovesick vampire and the girl determined to make him jealous. Especially when I’m in such a breakable body.

She glanced back at past!Buffy, noting with some satisfaction that the other girl was staring after Spike in consternation. Good. At least Spike’s clumsy attempt at making past!Buffy jealous had worked, too. Because there was no way she was going to put up with being so close to Spike and not being with him if he and past!Buffy didn’t work out their issues.

She headed for the exit, intending to catch up with her vampire and letting him vent to her, when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Wait, Anya? Can we talk?” past!Buffy pleaded. “I just…I need to know some stuff.”

“I’m not giving away the future,” Buffy informed her. There was a perverse little part of her that was enjoying watching her past self squirm. Well, that was also the part that had gotten the whole self-loathing thing down pat. So maybe she shouldn’t feed it.

“I know.” Past!Buffy looked down. “But why?” she burst out. “Why are you so interested in getting Spike and me together, when you so clearly want him, too? What happened to us that you’re speeding up our relationship so much?”

Moderately surprised that she’d caught that, Buffy could only shrug noncommittally. “That’s not something you have to worry about.” But here was her one last chance to try to make things work properly, and past!Buffy was actually asking her for advice. “But maybe you should try to figure out why your relationship is something so important that this whole time, I’ve been risking giving myself away trying to make sure it works out.”

Past!Buffy surprised her again, searching her face beseechingly. “So it’s okay? In the future…it’s the right thing?”

Buffy smiled at that, feeling reassured that she’d made a difference. “The fact that you want it to be okay says enough.” She squeezed past!Buffy’s hand and headed out the door.

Spike was probably in his crypt by then, smashing everything in sight and cursing past!Buffy’s name. Which is always fun. She hurried there, the euphoria from the promise of a relationship between past!Buffy and Spike making her speed pick up and her smile stretch wider.

She shoved open the crypt door. “Spike?”

No answer.

She poked her head down to the basement. “Come on, Spike, I know you’re here!” But he probably wasn’t, she realized. Not when he could get himself drunk and forget all his pain. She should have gone to Willy’s first.

She turned to go, frowning when she realized that the crypt door was closed. Had she shut it? She didn’t think so. Maybe it was the wind.

Or maybe it was Drusilla, who was approaching swiftly with a taser in her hand.

The last time she’d seen Drusilla, they’d been deep in the Middle East, in a dark little nook in Jerusalem. She’d been searching for Spike, sure that he was once again killing his way across the globe with his ex. And somehow, she’d come out of that meeting feeling as though she was the villain.

“You burned him,” Dru had accused in a dreamy voice, dropping the teenaged student she’d been draining. “He tasted sunshine and embraced it, and now my Spike is all burned away. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.”

Back then, she’d practically staked Dru just for calling their shared vampire lover- well, the other one- “hers.” Because Spike was Buffy’s, dammit! But after their encounter, she’d realized that the crazy vampiress had had a far healthier relationship with Spike than Buffy ever had.

She hadn’t been so jealous of Dru since she’d found out who was warming Angelus’s bed in Sunnydale, and that time, the vampire hadn’t even had the man.

Dru hadn’t changed since the last time they’d met. Her eyes still sparked with insanity, she still wove her way back and forth like a drunk as she moved, and she still knew Buffy.

“The lamb has changed,” she noted casually, raising the taser as Buffy reached for her stake. “It is wiser now. Mamma sheep, mamma sheep, why do you cry?”

Then the electric bolt from the taser hit Buffy, and her weak human body lost consciousness immediately.

--

Spike was worried.

Granted, Anya had never said that she’d meet him later, but he’d thought it was a given that when he blew up about something Buffy-related, she’d come looking for him at his crypt and pester him until he told her exactly what was bothering him. He’d even liked it, to some extent. The bint could be annoying, but at least she seemed to genuinely care.

But when he’d awakened from his drunken stupor somewhere around sunset the next day, he’d realized that Anya hadn’t been waiting for him when he’d returned. She hadn’t woken him in the middle of the day to yell at him for being an ass, or even (though it had previously occurred only once and somehow embarrassed him more than her) crawled into bed next to his nude body while he’d slept. When he focused, he could smell her faint smell below the overpowering stench of alcohol, as well as the hint of a familiar scent he couldn’t quite place but niggled annoyingly at the back of his mind. So she’d been there. But she’d left before seeing him, which was most uncharacteristic.

So yeah, he was worried about the girl. She never seemed to realize that she wasn’t a powerful demon anymore, and put herself in far too many dangerous situations for his liking. He’d told her before not to visit him alone at night, and she’d laughed it off. And now his residence might have gotten her in trouble. Or worse, she might have gone to see him at Willy’s and been kidnapped by some hideous demon while he’d been too drunk to notice.

He cursed, yanking on a pair of pants. He had to check up on his girl, even if it meant that he’d have to go into the very depths of hell to see her.

~

“Go away,” Xander said flatly when he opened the door and saw Spike there.

“I need to talk to Future Girl,” Spike informed him. “Been some problems with my magic shop tab. ‘ve gotta work them out with her.”

“So talk to Giles,” Xander said impatiently, and Spike could smell the fear on him. Fear for Anya, or fear for himself?

“Where is she?” he demanded. “What have you done with her?”

Xander slammed the door shut.

Spike smirked humorlessly. If he weren’t so concerned, he’d really have enjoyed the next part.

“XANDER!” he howled. “XANDER HARRIS, OPEN THAT DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

Nothing.

Excellent. “YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” Spike cried out. “YOU SAID THAT I WAS THE BEST YOU EVER HAD. YOU SWORE YOU DIDN’T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!”

“Shut the hell up, Spike!” Xander shouted from behind the door. Down the hall, a few people were opening doors and peering out.

“THERE’S NO WAY YOU’RE STRAIGHT, NOT IF YOU’RE WILLING TO PAY ME EVERY TIME! I NEVER-“

The door slammed open, nearly clocking him in the jaw. “She’s not here. Go away.” Slam.

“Bugger,” Spike muttered.

~

Buffy woke with a start. “Spike?” she said without thinking.

“Dreaming of me, were you?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot impatiently. His words had no bite to them, his leer was empty.

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?” He hadn’t come to her room since the night they’d slept together.

He shrugged. “Blanket invitation, remember?”

She sighed, sitting up and mentally cursing the fact that she was wearing her Yummy Sushi pajamas on the day that her current…interest, if you could call him that…decided to come visit. “What’s wrong?”

“Anya’s missing.”

“Missing?” Buffy frowned. “She didn’t show up for work today, but Willow said that she was probably with you. That that’s where she went last time. We just assumed…”

“Well, you were wrong,” Spike snapped. Buffy forgave him, mostly because he seemed so unsettled about the whole situation. He probably wasn’t used to having such vulnerable friends, who could be in trouble with no defenses… “I’ve been searching all night, all the usual haunts, trying to find out if anyone’s mentioned her. Nothing.”

She reached for a shirt tiredly, ignoring Spike’s eyes fixed on her as she turned her back to him, pulled off her pajamas and got dressed. And she’d also thought about what Anya had said and decided to trust her. It felt good to be with Spike, both in the literal and romantic sense, and if even one person in the future (although admittedly, Anya wasn’t really one to judge by) approved, then why not go for it? She was aware that she was very possibly- okay, definitely- just making excuses, but it wasn’t like she’d be able to resist him. Ever. So at least she could have a relationship instead of lots of meaningless sex. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

“Where’d you look?” she asked Spike’s forehead, since his eyes were still steadily focused on the spot where she’d pulled the shirt over her bare breasts. Guys…

“Right. Uh…” he struggled to look up.

She swatted him on his ear. “Focus, flyboy. I’m up here.”

He caught her hand with his own reflexively, pressing a kiss to it. “While you were out gallivanting with your new boytoy-“

Buffy held up a hand. “Wait. What new boytoy?”

Spike sneered at her with barely disguised hurt. “Hospital Boy, what’s his name…”

“Ben?” Buffy shook her head. “He gave me his number, that’s all. I wasn’t going to go out with him.” She locked gazes with the vampire, willing him to understand.

Spike looked distinctly puzzled, not comprehending at all. “Oh. Okay.” He studied her expression for clues, and when she gave him none, he went on. “Anyway, I searched the Bronze, Willy’s, and a few of the demon stockers for the Magic Box. No one’s seen her. No one’s heard of any new threat, either, except for some mysterious vampire who killed a lot of people on-“

“A train,” Buffy finished. She frowned. “But Anya knew about that when I asked her. She wouldn’t have gone after it on her own, right?”

“Unless if she was supposed to be kidnapped,” Spike surmised darkly.

“And there’s always Glory,” Buffy added. “We don’t know where Willow and Tara’s spell sent her, but she might be back by now. What if she went after Anya?”

“Let’s start with the train,” Spike decided. “’S the pattern in Sunnyhell, anyway. Something strange happens, a Scoobie gets hurt, track it down to a one-time villain…”

“…I kick its ass and save the unharmed Scoobie.” Buffy smiled encouragingly at him. “She’ll be fine,” she murmured, squeezing his hand. She might hate how much Anya meant to Spike, but the girl was in love with him and still pushed him in Buffy’s direction. That earned her a safe return, at the very least.

“Yeah,” he muttered, looking away.

They went to the police station first, Spike easily breaking in through the back door and finding the police reports for the incident. Buffy considered being worried about the total lack of security at the station, then laughed to herself. As if the police are the ones taking care of local crimes…

Buffy flipped through the gory crime scene pictures with professional nonchalance, pausing only at the last photo. “Um. Spike?” She held it out to him.

He took it and went pale. “Bugger.”

“You know what it is?” Buffy demanded, worried at the sudden look of absolute terror on his face.

“It’s Miss Edith.” He straightened, distancing himself from her visibly. “Drusilla’s favorite doll.”

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Okay. Let’s split up. You’ll check the cemeteries, I’ll check anywhere else she might be.”

Spike glared down at her angrily. “We both know where she is. Do you really not trust me that much?”

“I trust you.” Buffy started for the door. “But around Drusilla…”

He scowled. “I love you! I swear, pet, if it came down to you or her...”

“She’ll cloud your judgment, Spike,” Buffy retorted. “You were in love with her for a hundred years. I think that might make you hesitate when it comes down to the wire.” She turned the corner, Spike hot on her heels. Luckily, Crawford Street was only four blocks from the police station, and the mansion where Angelus, Spike, and Dru had lived during their stint in Sunnydale just down that road. “I don’t blame you. But I can’t count on you for this one.” She left him behind, running for the mansion at top speed and not looking back.

The mansion door wasn’t even bolted when she charged in, following a faint stain of blood that had started just beyond the front steps and led her to a far room in the back of the mansion. She could hear Dru’s crooning from afar.

“Two in you, dancing together to different tunes… There is a tea party, but it isn’t your name on the letter. The hare is deep, deep inside… shall I cut her out?”

At Anya’s answering moan, Buffy tore into the room, her stake outstretched toward where she’d heard Drusilla’s voice. Instead, she nearly staked Anya, who was hanging by manacles, looking drained but not too injured, to Buffy’s relief.

Drusilla screeched in anger at the interruption. “The other Slayer, the other Slayer!” she cried out, ripping at Buffy from behind.

“That reminds me,” Buffy said, twisting to face the vampiress. “I never did properly repay you for what you did to Kendra!”

Dru cackled wildly. “No, no, don’t know, know!” She grabbed Buffy by the head and tried to force the Slayer to face her.

“Don’t look into her eyes!” Anya croaked the warning to Buffy, and Buffy smashed her forehead into Drusilla’s, making them both woozy.

Of course, with Dru, it was her natural state, and she recovered much faster, spinning Buffy around and switching to game face to tear out her throat.

Buffy stopped fighting, waiting for the last blow, when Dru shuddered in front of her and fell away, turning to face the room’s entrance. “Why?” she croaked.

“No one messes with my girls,” Spike said fiercely, raising the second stake to take aim. “I missed the heart on purpose. The next one won’t.”

“My Spike…” She reached out to him forlornly, then snapped her head around to scowl at Anya. “You stole the jack of hearts!”

And Anya, brave and tactless as always, managed a grin and a smug, “Yeah. I did.”

“Go away, Dru,” Spike ordered, waving the stake threateningly.

Dru gave him a dark, sorrowful gaze. “You burn brightly,” she whispered. “The light hurts Princess’s eyes.”

“Yeah, pet,” Spike agreed, moving between the vampire and Buffy. “There’s nothing for you here.”

And with that simple statement, Drusilla turned and glided off into the darkness.

“She won’t be back,” Spike stated with confidence. “Not for me, anyway.”

Buffy’s first impulse was to throw her arms around the man she hadn’t believed in enough and apologize to him with kisses and promises of more. She moved toward him to do just that, but he’d already turned to free Anya from her bonds and Buffy remembered why she’d come in the first place, shamefaced.

Anya was smirking at her, and Buffy had the uncomfortable feeling that Anya knew exactly what Buffy had been planning. “You okay?” she asked the other girl tentatively.

Anya nodded. “Just a little blood loss. Nothing some cookies and orange juice can’t take care of!” she said cheerfully.

Spike slung her over his shoulder. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“No!” she protested, an edge of desperation in her voice. “No hospitals!” She flushed at their stares. “I don’t like them,” she finished weakly, her strength draining with every word.

“I’m totally there with you,” Buffy agreed. “But you might need an emergency transfusion. You’re looking a little pale. Spike?” she said, a sudden worry occurring to her.

“She’s got a nice, strong heartbeat,” Spike assured her. “But she needs blood.” He tugged at her hair teasingly. “You’ll be fine. Big Bad’ll keep an eye on you in the hospital, keep you safe.”

“I don’t need a guard dog,” Anya mumbled, her eyes drifting closed. “Go home and have makeup sex with pss!Buffy.”

“What?” Buffy asked. But Anya was already fast asleep.

“Let’s get her settled in the hospital, then we’ll take care of her other request,” Spike suggested, curling his tongue in front of his teeth in his signature leer.

She stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him softly. “Play your cards right…” she murmured slyly, grinning when his jaw dropped.

“You can’t tell me that when we’re trying to save a life!” Spike protested, shaking the unconscious girl on his shoulder. “S’cheating!”

“Builds the anticipation,” Buffy grinned, leading the way to the hospital. She scowled suddenly, wagging her finger at him warningly. “But you’d better not say anything stupid this time.”

“Believe me, love,” Spike assured her. “By the end of the night, you’ll be more than grateful for my mouth…and this tongue.” He waggled said tongue at Buffy and she gulped.

They dropped Anya off at the hospital, leaving a message on Xander’s machine to her whereabouts and making sure that she was alright before escaping together to Spike’s crypt. Their lips fused together before they even reached the basement level, and Spike, still glued to Buffy, climbed down blindly, setting her down clumsily on the bed.

Buffy felt something prick her back as Spike attacked her lips. She ignored it until Spike pulled away from her, his eyes hooded with lust. “You’re bleeding.”

“Huh? Oh!” She rolled off of the item, raising her eyes when she realized that it was a small, elegant dagger. “Trying to kill me?” she asked wryly, passing it to him.

A shadow crossed his face. “It was your birthday present,” he mumbled, trying to toss it away.

She pried it from his hand. “It’s beautiful,” she told him honestly.

“The stone on the handle turns red when an unholy creature is within ten meters,” he told her, gazing down at it.

“Wow. Pretty and functional,” she breathed, running her fingers over the blade. “Is it still…?”

“It’s yours,” he assured her hastily. “Happy birthday.”

She sank into his embrace, marveling at how right it felt to be wrapped in his arms. “Thank you,” she told him, kissing him gently on the lips.

“I love you, Buffy,” he sighed, pulling her closer.

And this time, she responded, “I know.”