Spike walked through the doors to the Hyperion Hotel with his coat swishing behind him. The new black jeans were stiff and the fancy Doc Martens that he’d bought earlier in the day were going to give him blisters-- he just knew it-- before he broke them in. He was attempting to hide his insecurities with a mask of not caring what they thought of him, but when the female in a stranger outfit than his own came out from a dark hallway, he stared in awe.

She turned her too large and too blue eyes on him. With her face void of expression, it was easier to see the tiny change in her demeanor when she noticed him. On full alert, Spike eyed her cautiously. Her small body was wrapped in the type of costume he’d only seen in comic books and it reminded him too much of the vampire he’d narrowly escaped the night before.

“They said you weren’t dead.” The creature ambled towards him, her head tilted slightly. “Alive. Yes, I can smell your humanity. It’s revolting.”

“You really know how to insult a guy,” Spike said cautiously.

“You would be even easier to break now, and you would take too long to heal.”

“Leave him alone, Illyria,” Vi said as she and Sharelle descended the stairs and stood together on the other side of the couch.

Spike came very close to wrapping his duster more tightly around him at the naked leer that Sharelle sent his way.

“Hot damn! Now that is sex on a stick,” the Slayer said. Vi groaned in embarrassment and Sharelle added, “What? Didn’t you tell me that Spike was sex on a stick back in the day?”

Not even trying to hide his smile, he took a few more steps into the lobby, held his hands out and turned slowly. “Did I get it right? Is this Spike?”

Vi cleared her throat and got past the squeak in her voice. “That’s close. You’re missing all the silver jewelry and the jeans aren’t tight enough, but it’s close.”

“I never met you when you were a vampire, but I’m guessing you were a little paler back then,” Sharelle said, grinning at him.

“Well, can’t do anything about the tan and I’m not about to give up my beach going ways.” He glanced at his hands, turning them over. “I could put rings on, but I think I’ll pass.”

“The boots are new,” Illyria said, before she went behind the reception desk.

He glanced down at them and shrugged. “The ones I had when they found me were a mess. I had one of the nurses throw them away for me.”

“I wish we could stay and chat, Spike, but Sharelle and I were just on our way out,” Vi told him, her fondness for him softening the edges of her serious eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asked, disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to hear more about what he had been like as a vampire.

“They are going hunting,” Illyria said.

“We call it going on patrol,” Sharelle added, pulling a stake out from her back pocket and twirling it around before replacing it.

He didn’t want to sound too eager, but after his run in with a vampire last night, he was ready for more. “Do you mind if I tag along?”

“Dawn would kill me if I said yes.” Vi eyed him, on the brink of giving in. “But you were one of the first to train me and I owe you a lot.”

“See there. I trained you, now you can train me,” Spike said cheerfully.

Illyria stepped out from behind the counter with a sword in hand. “Perhaps I should go with you. Do you have your stake?”

“My stake?” he asked, tilting his head in question.

Vi pointed at his coat. “You always carried at least one in your duster. You said you never knew when it would come in handy, but we all knew it was because you were always looking for a fight.”

“Really?” Illyria said, a wry smile now forming on her lips. “He told me it was so that he could stake Angel if he ever went evil again.”

Even though he’d come to the hotel to learn more about Spike, he was becoming uncomfortable with all the freely tossed out tidbits. Patting his coat down, he said, “Well, there are no stakes in here. Just an old-fashioned Zippo lighter. And I don’t even smoke.”

“You used to,” Vi said as she dug through her large purse.

She tossed him a stake and he caught it as if he’d been catching stakes all his life. And maybe he had.

In the end, Vi talked Illyria into staying behind and the two slayers and former vampire climbed into his Jetta. With nervous excitement, Spike turned the car on, ready to pull out onto the street.

“Where to, ladies?”

Vi pulled a Thomas Guide out of her bag and flipped it open. “Dawn suggested we hit this cemetery and then patrol the alleys near the strip clubs on this street here.”

From the back, Sharelle asked, “What happened to your window?”

“A crazy thing happened last night,” Spike said. “A vampire did that.”

They listened with rapt attention while he drove towards the cemetery on their list and told them how he’d escaped the murderous creature within an inch of his life.

Vi sat in silence for a minute, ignoring Sharelle and Spike’s banter back and forth. Finally making a decision, she flipped her phone open and dialed. They listened in while she talked.

“Dawn? Yeah, change of plans, I think. I have a lead on Vixen.” Vi paused to listen and then turned to Spike. “What cemetery did you see Vixen at?”

“Um, Hillside Memorial, off the 405.”

“Did you get that?” Vi said into the phone. “Yes, that’s Spike. He asked to go with us. Well, we’ll head over there and scope the place out.” She paused to listen again. “You could do that, but I think we can handle this. It’s up to you. You’re the watcher.”

“Figures she’d be there,” Sharelle said. “That’s a Jewish Cemetery. No crosses to worry about.”

“It’s a good thing that we carry our own then,” Vi said, jiggling her purse. “Dawn is sending Angel and Illyria as backup.”

“For one vampire?” Spike asked, doing his best to keep his eye on the road to make a u-turn. “I thought slayers were supposed to be tough.”

“We are,” Vi said. “Before the riots, the L.A. slayers were constantly going up against her. She’s a very skilled fighter and she’s very good at hiding and lying low until they would move on to another big bad. Then the strip clubs would start to lose dancers and customers all over again.”

Sharelle leaned forward, between the two front seats. “She gave us a lot of trouble after the riots as well. She thrived off the chaos and I’ve got scars from her bite mark to prove it.”

“She bit you? And you’re alive?” Spike asked, shaking his head.

“When a group of my fellow slayers showed up, she ran and went into hiding. I hope we run into her tonight,” the girl said, rubbing her neck. “I’m dying to put a stake in her.”

“So, what’s the plan when we get there?” Spike asked.

“I was thinking that you’d make good bait,” Vi said.

At first, Spike protested, but Vi’s reasoning was right on. He had escaped the elusive vampire’s clutches, and if she saw him there again tonight, she’d want to go after him to save her pride. The fact that Vixen almost always traveled with at least two other vampires had his stomach tied in knots. He didn’t like the odds. Three against three. Spike could only hope that backup would be quick to get there.

---

“She what?” Buffy yelled into her phone. “Call her back right now and tell her to get him as far away from that cemetery as possible.”

Dawn started to argue, but Buffy cut her off by slamming the phone back on its cradle. She raced around the room in a panic, searching for her keys. John might have survived a meeting with Vixen by some kind of fluke of luck and he might be stronger and more skilled than the average human, but he was human. She couldn’t lose him again.

The elevator was taking too long to arrive so she sprinted down the steps, all the while planning the painful death of Vi. There was no reason to get John involved in patrolling, even if he had asked to go along.

At such a late hour, the traffic was light and she was on the 405 freeway heading north within minutes of starting her car up. Worry lines etched her face as she weaved in and out of the lanes, going eighty miles an hour. She really hoped she didn’t get pulled over, but she took the chance with only seven miles to travel.

The energy saving, yellow lights in the cemetery perpetrated the eerie quiet of the vast place. She spotted John’s car at the bottom of the hill that led to the buildings and pulled up behind it. Dawn mentioned that Angel and Illyria were on their way too, but it would take them a little longer to get there from The Hyperion. Buffy cursed the fact that she was on vacation and had nothing but a couple of stakes. She shoved two in her back pockets and gripped a third while scoping out an entrance to the walled burial sections.

She found them a few minutes later and her jaw nearly dropped to the ground at the sight before her. Vi and Sharelle surrounded John—no, Spike—and he was punching and kicking while they took turns sparing with him. Her throat constricted and she had to fight the urge to sink to her knees at the shock of seeing him in the duster. And the red silk shirt! Memories flooded her mind of the days when he wore a shirt like that. When he’d been her enemy.

Sharelle saw the figures come over the hill at the same time that Buffy did. They both shouted a warning. Spike turned towards Buffy, his glare a gut wrenching reminder of how betrayed he felt. But now was not the time to talk.

“Spike!” she said, waving him to come her way. “Get over here.”

Without acknowledging her order, he turned; legs spread in a wide stance to face the coming vampires. With Vixen out in front and her growing posse of six fanning out behind her, they advanced on the slayers quickly, coming to a stop a few feet away with a concrete path between the two sides.

“I’d thank you for coming back with snacks for my family, but slayers leave a bad taste in my mouth,” Vixen said.

Buffy reached Spike just as Sharelle went on the attack, the normally level-headed girl losing her composure. Spike fought Buffy to get free from her grasp and she struggled to pull him back.

“Stop fighting me, you idiot,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’re endangering my slayers by even being here and I need to go help them.”

Just as he settled down, two vampires caught up to them and Buffy directed every ounce of her anger at one of them, fighting with an intensity she thought she’d lost, never to get back. Her only thought was to protect Spike. Just to her left, Spike fought off his attacker like a pro, but used only defensive moves to keep the one vampire at bay. She doubled her effort, throwing all her weight into her next punch.

The vampire fighting her was no match for a slayer who’d lived and fought through countless apocalypses. She didn’t waste time with fancy fighting or clever quips. Seeing an opening when he kicked, she used her leg in a sweeping motion, allowing his foot to impact her, but getting his other leg to fly up. He landed with a thud on his back and with precision, she held her stake up and drove it home.

With no time to gloat, she leapt to her feet and in a split second she assessed the situation. Vi was fending off two vampires, and Sharelle had just dusted one. Vixen headed towards Spike who struggled against the same vampire that he’d been fighting off before. Buffy raced towards Spike, just as Illyria stormed into sight, wielding an ax and heading straight for Vixen.

Buffy grabbed the vampire attacking Spike from behind and clasped her arms under his armpits and up to his shoulders to drag him away from Spike. Sharelle’s impassioned scream, “No!” tore into the night air, followed by a crunch and a crack as Illyria’s ax sliced through Vixen’s neck. At the same time, Spike drove a stake into the vampire in Buffy’s grasp and as it turned to dust Spike fell forward, the stake piercing Buffy’s shoulder.

They went down to the ground together as Angel helped Vi finish off the last two vampires.

Spike held his hand up and began trembling when he saw Buffy’s blood there. “What have I done?”

“I’m okay,” Buffy said, wincing at the sharp pain. “It’s just a superficial wound.”

She got to her feet and let her eyes fall on Vi, who was dusting off her hands. Buffy had seen red before, when she was angry; she was seeing it again now. She stomped passed Sharelle, who was chewing Illyria out for killing “her” vampire, and she decked the unsuspecting Vi, who flew through air, landing with a groan ten feet away.

Angel gripped her arm to hold her back. She fought to get control of her emotions and he asked, “What did do you do that for?”

Buffy shrugged out of his grasp and stomped over to Vi who wisely stayed down. With narrowed eyes, Buffy said, “If you ever put someone I love in danger like that again, I will kill you.”

Vi shook her head and scooted back. “I didn’t mean—he was with us. He was safe.”

“Leave her alone,” Spike said from behind her. Buffy glanced back to see him standing on wobbly legs where they had fallen together. “I talked her into letting me come with them.”

Her eyes softened and she went to him, putting her arm around his waist to help him stay steady. “Let’s get you home.”

Spike stepped away from her, shaking his head, his jaw set stubbornly set. “I’m fine. I’ll get there on my own.”

For a moment, Buffy watched him walk away as the others gathered the weapons. She went into action, following him. He might not want to talk to her, but they didn’t know if they’d gotten every vampire in Vixen’s family. She couldn’t take a chance that one might jump out at him. He seemed to be thinking along those lines and he glanced around with wary eyes.

He opened his car door and she sped up to hold it open. “Talk to me,” she said with pleading eyes.

“Right now, I just want to go home and absorb all that just happened.” He put his hand on the door, preparing to close it, but she held it firmly. “I just dusted a vampire. It turned to nothing…” He glanced up at Buffy then and his eyes widened. “Maybe I should take you to the emergency room to get that patched up.”

She hesitated. If she agreed to go to the ER, she’d be able to spend more time with him and hopefully get him to talk to her. But, she’d lied to him enough already and she was through manipulating him. She was way past the age where she would overplay an injury to get a guy’s attention.

“Slayers heal really fast. It stings a little, but by morning it will be fine. Two days from now, you won’t even be able to tell that I was hurt.” She rolled her shoulder to prove her point. “But maybe we could go get some coffee somewhere?”

“No. Maybe you’re used to keeping such late hours, but I need sleep. I’m sorry about the wound though.”

“It was an accident.”

With a heavy heart, she gave up on the idea of forcing him to talk to her. Buffy let go of the door and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. Spike didn’t say another word, just nodded slightly, closed his door and took off.