Author's Notes: Watch out! This is the SECOND PART of this 'episode'/'chapter'. Make sure you read Part One, 'William', first :)
 
A/Ns from previous chapter apply here.
 

---

 
“Spike! What the Hell are you-”
 
Buffy had to cut herself off as she ducked a right-hook from one vampire while delivering a side-kick to another.
 
“Just giving you a hand, Slayer,” she heard him respond somewhere behind her and to the left.
 
Upon reaching one of Sunnydale’s many cemeteries- she was still learning all their names –they’d only had to wait about twenty minutes until they were jumped by a group of four vampires. Buffy had told Spike to stay back, and done her best to keep their attention on her.
 
Which had been working, until he yelled a few obscenities at them.
 
Otherwise known as purposely engaging the enemy.
 
So now, it was a two-on-one fight for both of them.
 
Backhanding the vampire who’d just swung at her, with both vamps now temporarily incapacitated, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t need you to give me a hand. I need you to not get dead!”
 
Pausing long enough to make eye contact with her, he just snickered.
 
Outraged by his insubordination, but not really in a position to do anything about it, Buffy set her focus back on her two vamps. At this point, she would just have to trust that if Spike started losing his battle, he’d be smart enough to call out for help.
 
She yanked her stake out of her back pocket, cocking her arm in preparation for the duo’s next attack. Lucky for her, they didn’t make it a synchronized effort. When the first one rushed at her, she grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and tossed him aside.
 
Considering the fact that these vamps had been relying more on numbers than skill to outdo her, she wasn’t surprised when all it took was an uppercut to disorient his comrade before driving her stake home.
 
In the background, she heard the distinctive whoosh of another vamp being extinguished.
 
Which meant Spike was still okay.
 
Buffy ran to her other vampire while he was still in the process of getting up. Drove her heel into his jaw, sending him onto his back. His chest exposed, all it took was a quick crouch and the downward snap of her wrist, and he was done too.
 
Turning around, she caught sight of Spike a few yards away. His back to her, he took a punch in the face from his female foe. Instead of tumbling backwards as she expected him to though, he just laughed it off and socked her in the gut. A few more well-aimed strikes, and she was reduced to a pile of dust.
 
Although she was relieved to see him as the victor, and a little impressed by the fact that he’d handled himself so well- especially since up until this point, she wasn’t sure that he did anything in the fight against evil besides just talk about it –Buffy couldn’t tamp down the rage boiling in her chest. This was the problem she’d had with the prospect of dating Owen. Spending her nights in a cemetery with a guy who thought he could handle himself.
 
Right up until the moment when he got his throat ripped out.
 
Stalking up to him, she tucked her stake back into her pocket for fear that he’d get her so angry, she might actually attempt to use it on him. “All right. Rule number one if we’re gonna make this a regular thing. The minute the fighting starts, you stand back, and let me-”
 
A nuclear warhead detonated in her chest when he turned around to look at her. Feet planting into the ground deeper than the roots of the trees that surrounded them, she stopped all motion. For a few excruciating seconds, she couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, definitely couldn’t speak. Could barely think. She felt as though time had frozen around her, like that split second of tranquility before the atom split.
 
Having witnessed the sudden change in her demeanour, Spike cocked his head at her and frowned.
 
At least, she thought it was a frown… She couldn’t tell for sure, what with the… the…
 
“What?” he asked, obviously confused by the look of horror she was wearing.
 
Buffy couldn’t answer him. She was too busy attempting to comprehend what she was seeing.
 
Spike appeared to realize what had paralyzed her. His confusion melted away, replaced instead with a look of dread. “Oh, hell. Slayer-”
 
But she was screaming now. Lungs erupting with terror at the sight of his distorted face. Fangs arching down from his gum line like guillotines flanked by scythes. In that awful moment, the Slayer within her disintegrated. Leaving behind the trembling teenaged girl at her core.
 
When her vocal cords ran out of fuel, she stood there in silence for another moment. Just staring at him. Too stunned to do anything else. A big part of her hoping that her brain would shake off this horrible hallucination.
 
It didn’t though. She blinked once. Twice.
 
He…
 
It…
 
Was still standing there.
 
“Buffy…” Spike said, holding out a hand as he stepped towards her. “Love… Let me-”
 
“Stay away from me!” she shrieked, backing up. Breaths coming in hard pants. “Just stay… Stay…” She shook her head in disbelief.
 
Buffy realized that she couldn’t make it go away. Couldn’t make herself wake up from this nightmare.
 
So she did the only thing she could do in that moment.
 
She ran. She ran hard, and she ran fast, and she ran far, far away from what she’d just seen…
 
Far away from Spike.
 
Far away from the vampire.
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
By the time Buffy came back to herself, she was leaning against the inner surface of her front door. Her mother was approaching her from the living room.
 
“Buffy? You’re back already?” she inquired. “I thought you were meeting Willow and Xander…” Her look of confusion turned to one of concern as she got nearer. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
 
“Uh,” Buffy murmured, blinking a few times as she attempted to wipe away the blur in her vision. “Nothing. I… saw a shadow. Outside. When I was coming home, I…” Realizing after a few moments that this was doing nothing to ease her mother’s worried look, or really answer her question, she seized hold of some of the adrenaline still coursing through her blood vessels and straightened up. “I got there and realized I wasn’t feeling well. Then on my way home, I got a major wiggins. I’m fine though, Mom.”
 
“All right… well… maybe you should go upstairs to bed then. I’ll come check on you later.”
 
She nodded. “Oh… okay. Yeah. Good night.”
 
Drifting upstairs to her bedroom in a stupor, she still had her jacket hanging from one arm when she collapsed onto her bed, eyes fixed on but barely seeing the ceiling that hung over her.
 
Oh God. What… What had just happened?
 
Spike- William… he’d been here barely an hour ago. Holding her, pouring his soul into her mouth through his lips, lighting a fire within her that had been reduced to a few glowing embers for too long now. And then… then he… then something had…
 
Joyce’s voice echoed in her mind a second time.
 
‘Buffy, what’s wrong?’
 
I don’t know. I don’t know! she answered.
 
Except… she did know.
 
Spike was a vampire. Spike… the first guy she’d ever felt herself truly falling for… the guy who made her laugh and made her rage, who’d saved her life, whose mouth had fit against hers so snugly, who had her made her feel so complete… as if they were opposite moulds of the same template… He had just… He was…
 
‘Buffy, what’s wrong?’
 
‘Nothing, I… saw a shadow.’
 
A shadow of a man. A shadow that had ruthlessly devoured the tiny pinprick of light she’d felt herself drawn to in a world that was already too full of darkness.
 
Buffy couldn’t believe it. She just couldn’t believe that…
 
It felt like her heart was cracking in half. A deep, vicious fissure drawn down its center, opening a chasm deeper than the Marianas trench.
 
Eventually, she closed her eyes again. Squeezed them shut in an attempt to block out the numbness that had engulfed her. Numbness that somehow managed to make every muscle in her body ache.
 
Buffy fell asleep like that. Immobilized on her back, still dressed. Blinds drawn, every lamp in her bedroom turned on. Even when her mother came to wake her, prompted her to get into her pajamas and into bed, she kept the lights going. Left them burning until daylight washed her bedroom walls the next morning.
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
For the few short seconds after Willow inquired about Spike’s condition with a tiny little grin that meant she wasn’t just asking about his physical health, Buffy stared down at the pavement in hopes that today would be the day that the Hellmouth decided to open up and swallow them all.
 
When it became apparent that wasn’t going to happen, she had no choice but to answer with the truth. “He’s… not so good. He’s sort of… a vampire.”
 
“What?”
 
“I’d like to second that with a huh?”
 
“Oh dear.”
 
“Spike is a vampire?”
 
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Buffy murmured, having made no progress when it came to understanding what she’d seen last night.
 
“Buffy, what happened? Are you all right?” Giles inquired.
 
“Except for the shock and horror that comes with realizing the guy you’ve been crushing on is undead? Yeah, I’m peachy.” She let out a long sigh. “Last night, we…” Catching sight of the looks on the faces of both her male companions, she decided to leave out the part about their kissing. “We went patrolling together. One minute we were fighting, and the next minute…”
 
“Bumpies?”
 
“Yeah.” Buffy shook her head, flashing back to the weeks she’d spent getting to know Spike. The disconnect between what he was, and how he’d acted around her all this time. “Can a vampire ever be a good person?” she asked, looking at Giles as though she were drowning, and he was the deckhand on a ship nearby holding a life preserver. “Couldn’t it happen?”
 
He refused to relinquish command of the styrofoam ring, although he at least had the decency to look unhappy about it. “A vampire isn’t a person at all. It may have the movements, the- the memories, even personality of the person that it took over, but it’s still a demon at the core. There is no halfway.”
 
“So that’d be a no, huh?” Willow clarified for him, understanding that although Giles’ encyclopaedia of a brain was often useful, there were times when it spewed out just a little too much explanation on a topic.
 
Buffy heard what Giles was saying, had long ago accepted it as the truth, but it felt like right now, somehow, he had to be wrong about this. Spike had seemed just as ashamed by his transition as she was afraid of it. Had tried to reason with her instead of attacking. “Well then what was he doing? Why was he good to me? Was it all some part of the Master’s plan? It doesn’t make any sense!”
 
She parked herself on one of the benches outside of the school, Willow following behind. She wasn’t ready to go inside yet, where she’d spend the next seven hours trapped with her own thoughts, none of which would be of the kittens and rainbow variety. At least out here there was movement and energy… an environment that offered her brain something else to focus on if it slowed down too much.
 
“All right, uh, you have a problem, and it’s not a small one,” Xander was saying as he sat down beside the two girls. “Let’s take a breath and look at this calmly, and objectively.” Yeah, that’s what his tone said, but the fact that this was Xander meant that what he had to say probably wouldn’t fit into either of those categories. Didn’t matter though, because she was only half-listening. “Spike’s a vampire. You’re a Slayer. I think it’s obvious what you have to do.”
 
She wondered if he realized that the grin he gave her was yet another piece of shrapnel digging into her heart, which already felt as though it was wrapped in barbed wire. Did he hear what he was suggesting? That she should just drive a stake into the chest of a guy she actually had feelings for?
 
“Uh, it is a Slayer’s duty…”
 
“I-I know you have feelings for this guy,” Xander said.
 
Well, at least he could acknowledge that much.
 
“But it’s not like you’re in love with him, right?”
 
In love with him? No. But it certainly hadn’t seemed like an outrageous possibility last night…
 
“You’re in love with a vampire?” He shouted a moment later, having taken her silence as confirmation. “What, are you out of your mind?!”
 
“What?” shouted a familiar voice behind them.
 
Oh, great, Buffy thought, catching sight of the brunette who’d spoken.Let’s ask Cordelia to join the conversation. I’m sure she’ll have some sage advice for me.
 
“Not a vampire,” Xander clarified, turning to Buffy again. “How could you love an umpire? Everyone hates ‘em!”
 
Luckily though, his clumsy attempt to salvage any illusions of the sanity of their discussion weren’t actually needed. Cordelia barely glanced at them a second time before descending on some other girl, snatching at her matching dress like a vulture ripping flesh from a hunk of road kill.
 
“You think we have problems…” Buffy muttered, glad they had someone like that around to keep everything in perspective.
 
“Listen Buffy, we really are sorry about Spike’s, um… condition, but. You know this means-”
 
“Xander?” Willow’s voice broke in, soft as a handful of goose down but cutting through Xander’s tirade like a diamond-coated blade. “Leave it alone for now, okay?”
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
Bloody. Fucking Hell.
 
Spike could not believe what an enormous twat he was. Letting his game face creep up on him like that.
 
He wasn’t some fledge. Some clueless moron incapable of controlling the ability of his demon to make ripples on the pond of his face. Even worse was the fact that he hadn’t even noticed. Didn’t even feel the bones and cartilage shifting, didn’t feel his fangs descend.
 
He’d just been so wrapped up in the fight. He was so used to allowing his demon to rise to the surface unhindered. It had been so long since he’d fought alongside anyone, in particular anyone human, that it just wasn’t something he paid attention to anymore…
 
Christ. No way he’d be able to salvage the situation now. Not when she’d probably be spending all day with her Watcher, reading what was sure to be his rather detailed rap sheet. Finding out about his past… indiscretions. Their link to each other was too tenuous, the bridge of trust between them still missing its keystone. There was no way that anything they’d shared so far would be strong enough to block out the horror of his past. To convince her that he was different.
 
Whipping around, he hurled his mug across the kitchen of his insignificant apartment, watching as its contents splattered all over the fridge. The mug itself remained intact.
 
One less mess to clean up, at least.
 
Still, he needed to destroy something.
 
His fist, now surrounded by a ring of mutilated particle board, had apparently decided that the cupboard would do. He extracted his hand and stared at the bloody knuckles, little brown flecks of the cupboard’s flesh falling to the floor as he flexed his digits.
 
Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
 
He didn’t even care about the bloody ‘mission’. Didn’t care about slaying, or stopping the Big Bad, or making sure that the Master stayed buried underground where he belonged. Sure, he liked the world well enough, and he’d pitch in if it meant keeping it more or less the way it was. Taking out the odd vamp here or there kept his demon from getting too restless, provided him with that daily quota of violence he seemed unable to shuck his need for.
 
What Spike really cared about though… what actually mattered to him… was her. He’d been there when she was called. Watched as the Suit had walked up to her on the front steps of her high school, and given her the cryptic message that would transform her into a warrior.
 
At first he hadn’t thought much of her, really. Just some California brat whose destiny, up until that point, had been marrying rich and popping out a few kiddies before her insides shrivelled up. A destiny she likely would’ve been pretty content with.
 
Except… there had been something there. Beneath the veneer. The seed of someone stronger, someone more significant than that sugary cupcake of a girl. There had to be, because Spike was sure that none of her other friends would’ve followed the Watcher- hell, none of them would’ve even noticed he was there. Would’ve just gone on daydreaming about cheerleading routines and school dances without ever acknowledging his presence.
 
Much less followed him to a graveyard.
 
Observing her first few nights of training, he’d started to think that yeah, maybe this was a girl worth risking his hide over. Then, after following her to Sunnydale, seeing what she was really capable of, the potential she had… he was absolutely certain.
 
Buffy Summers was worth fighting for. Worth protecting. Spike had decided to step up because… well, who else was gonna do it?
 
That was as far as it was supposed to go. Pop in every now and then, feed her information when he had it. Maybe throw a few punches, let a few stakes fly.
 
Hadn’t taken long though before she’d dashed any hopes he had of keeping himself detached. From a distance, it had been easy to do. From a distance, he’d never actually had to talk to her. To get the thrill of trading barbs and seeing how vigorously she reacted to him pushing the buttons she kept so near to the surface. From a distance she was just a vision. He’d had no idea what she smelled like, that delectable aroma that cloaked her… sweet and tangy and full. He couldn’t hear the little sounds she made- the frustrated groans, the excited intakes of her breath…
 
So, yeah. After that first week or two, he’d started to feel like he was drowning.
 
Then, last week, after finding out that she’d burned down her school gym, for fuck’s sake- an event he’d somehow missed –he’d been done for.
 
Two nights ago when she’d invited him up to her bedroom, he knew he’d lost whatever semblance of control had over the situation. Knew it was to be his undoing. But… how was a vamp supposed to look upon such an opportunity and just reject it?
 
Problem was, he had no idea what it would be like to actually kiss her, actually taste her. To devour her mouth while she devoured his. To be close enough that he could hear the little whimpers that escaped her delectable lips. Feel her lithe but powerful digits clutching the leather coat that was a second skin to him.
 
Spike hadn’t been that turned on in nearly a half century. And even then… some nameless face in 1950s Thailand couldn’t begin to compare to the warm, glowing drop of sunlight that was the Slayer.
 
And now, he’d gone and buggered it all up with what could only be described as a shamefully rookie mistake.
 
Still… if she staked him tomorrow, he’d go happily, having gotten even that small taste of her lips.
 
Spike hoped it wouldn’t come to that though.  He’d have to talk to her. Try to get her to see through the wall of confusion the Watcher would surely build for her. Wouldn’t be easy, he knew. Slayer was nothing if she wasn’t stubborn.
 
But he had to try. She’d fed him a crumb last night, and now, despite everything- what he was, what she was, what had happened between them… he wanted the whole damn pie.
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
 
“I may have something at last.”
 
Xander jumped, turning on his male counterpart. “Can you please warn us before you do that?”
 
Giles, in full Watcher Mode, didn’t even acknowledge his request. “There’s nothing about Spike in the texts, but… well, I’m embarrassed to say that the name is actually more familiar to me than I originally thought. I didn’t realize how familiar until I thought to consult the diaries of the Watchers before me.”
 
“That musta been so embarrassing when you thought he had read your diary,” Willow said, having set her intellectual persona aside for the time being. “But then it turned out he hadn’t, but then he felt the same way after all…”
 
Buffy wanted to remind her of the part where he’d said that he’d read it, but… both girls realized that they were being stared at. Willow looked up.
 
“I’m listening.”
 
“Buffy, you said that this Spike… he initially introduced himself as William?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Well, then I think I may have our man.”
 
“You mean our dee-man,” Xander corrected him. Looked around at the unamused faces of his friends. “Dee-man. As in, demon?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It sounded clever in my head.”
 
Normally, something like this was good news. Giles hovering over his books, ready to give her the skinny on whatever beastie she had to take down that week. Right now it felt like he was just winding up to punch her in the jaw.
 
“According to the diaries, Spike was turned in the late eighteenth century. Known initially as ‘William the Bloody’, he soon earned his nickname for torturing his victims with railroad spikes.”
 
“Sounds like quite the charmer,” Xander commented. He’d gotten even more sarcastic and snarky since Giles’ inquiries about the events of last night had forced her to admit to The Kissing that had happened. Insisting that any and all details were crucial to understanding his motivations.
 
Buffy just looked away.
 
“He spent his first twenty-five years with…” he squinted at his page. “A cadre of vampires… cutting a swathe through Europe and Asia, even popping up in the Americas, and… oh, a brief stint in Australia.”
 
“So, pretty much everywhere.”
 
“Oh, well… yes. In any case, around 1905 he ceased being quite so… prominent. There’s barely a mention of him anywhere until 1977.” Giles seemed uncomfortable when releasing that particular piece of information, and rushed to get out his next words. “After that he appeared to go dormant again.”
 
“Until now.”
 
“Yes.”
 
Buffy thought about this for a few moments. There were several voices yelling at her inside her head, and the one that seemed to be loudest at this particular instant was the one that had been starting to care for Spike. The voice that wanted to believe she hadn’t allowed herself to feel affection for a bloodthirsty demon. “So, what was he doing, when no one heard from him? I mean… it’s possible, isn’t it, that he was… I don’t know. Doing non-evil stuff?”
 
“Buffy…”
 
“We don’t know anything about him apart from what it says in the diaries, right? Maybe he is good! Maybe-”
 
“Buffy,” Giles interrupted, speaking in that tone he used when she really needed to listen to what he had to say. “Vampires who create chaos wherever they go… they are not unique by any standard. I could give you a list of thirty or so vampires responsible for similar deeds in the last two decades alone. Spike is not noted in these diaries because he…”
 
“Liked to kill a lot of people?” Xander supplied.
 
Giles glanced at him, and nodded.
 
“So, what’s the scoop then, Giles?” she asked, hoping no one else could hear the tremor in her voice. “The suspense isn’t really helping…”
 
“I apologize. I simply don’t know how to…” he took a breath, pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of her. Removing his glasses, he leaned forward on his elbows, wearing a look of concern mixed with sorrow. “In 1900, Spike was in China when he came up against a Slayer. Then, in 1977, he faced his second. Both times he…” Giles looked down, as if the words he needed were painted on the floor at his feet. “Buffy, Spike is mentioned in the Watchers’ diaries because… he has made a career of killing…”
 
She didn’t hear what he said last. She was already halfway to the library doors, her friends calling after her.
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
“Buffy?” Willow’s voice floated towards her from the other end of the classroom. “Buff?”
 
She waited before responding. Listened for Xander’s footsteps or Giles’ shuffling. When it was apparent that the redhead was alone, she spoke up. “I’m here.”
 
Buffy was sitting at the front of the classroom, back pressed against the wall where the chalkboard was. Willow had entered from the back, unable to see her around the teacher’s desk. Now her sneakers squeaked as they flopped against the tiled floor, heading towards her. “Hey.”
 
Wiping away the remnants of the tears she’d been shedding for the last few minutes, she looked up at her friend. “Hey.” She really wasn’t ready for the speech that was sure to be coming. Didn’t want to hear Willow’s words of concern, or encouragement, or anything that she had to offer. Nothing could make this better right now. Nothing could fix the fact that she’d just found out that the guy she’d been thinking of as her next potential honey had a thing for Slayers, in the worst possible sense.
 
Willow didn’t say anything though. Just gave her that soft, half-frowning smile, sat down beside her, and wrapped her in a one-armed hug. Rested her head against her shoulder and just sat and breathed with her.
 
“Sorry for bailing like that.”
 
“Don’t be.”
 
“Giles and Xander?”
 
“Still in the library. I finally managed to convince them that you probably weren’t going to be in much of a talking mood anymore.”
 
“Thanks.”
 
Willow smiled, and didn’t say anything for what could’ve been a minute, or could’ve been a half hour. “So, I’ve gotta ask…”
 
Buffy looked at her, silently begging her not to say whatever was about to come out of her mouth. Willow brightened the expression on her face though, and sat up a bit straighter, turning to face her.
 
“When… when Spike kissed you… how was it?”
 
Whoa. Wow. Okay, she definitely hadn’t been expecting her to ask that. Buffy studied her for a few long seconds, trying to figure out what she was getting at. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning, but… there apparently was none. Willow just wanted to do what they’d done almost every day since she arrived in Sunnydale. Gossip. Live vicariously through her. And the part of her that had enjoyed what happened with Spike last night, the part that was purely female, and had been so excited right up until that moment in the graveyard… well, she decided she wanted her chance to speak. “It was… God, it was amazing. It… it was like we’d done it a hundred times before, but… also like it was our first time. Which, I know doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
 
“No, it does,” Willow said with an eager grin.
 
“I didn’t know it was possible for guys to kiss like that. Although I guess technically, he’s not…” She hadn’t meant to lead herself back down the vampire road already, but here she was. “God! I just don’t get it, Will! I mean, I know what he is, and… and what he’s done, but…” she dug her knuckles into her eyes, trying to physically force back the tears that threatened to spill over her eyelids again. “He’s never done anything to hurt me. Never even given me the slightest reason to believe he had that in mind. He spent the whole night beside me and didn’t even… he could’ve come after me- could’ve gone after my Mom. But he didn’t.”
 
“Do you think… maybe Giles is wrong about this?”
 
“Will…”
 
“Okay,” she harrumphed, deflating with a sigh. “Maybe definitely not, but Buffy…”
 
Shaking her head, she leaned it against the solid wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling. “How am I supposed to do this? I mean, I know what I have to do, but how am I supposed to… to stake someone that I…”
 
Buffy didn’t love him. She didn’t. Love was a big, scary concept that she hadn’t even begun to approach yet, especially not with Spike. She had already reserved a place for him in her heart though. Cleared out an unused corner, swept away some of the cobwebs, gave it a quick dusting. Windexed the windows… to make it look nice, at least. And even though she’d been weary of granting him access, he’d slipped right in. Plopped down a lawn chair, a coffee table, and a television. Put his feet up, and made himself nice and comfortable.
 
Then he’d gone and trashed the place. She’d kicked him out, but… all his stuff was still there. Tipped over and broken, but there.
 
And there wasn’t a single part of her that wanted to get rid of it.
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
“Here’s what I don’t get.”
 
At the sound of Xander’s voice, Giles looked up from the diary he was skimming through, still attempting to find information about Spike.
 
“Buffy’s the Slayer, right?”
 
“I believe we’ve established that, yes.”
 
Either ignoring, or more likely in his case, not even sensing the older man’s sarcasm, Xander continued. “All right, well… isn’t she supposed to have some sixth Spidey sense thing going on when it comes to vamps? Like, where she can tell one’s around even if they aren’t all obvious and bumpy-faced?”
 
“Indeed. That is one of the many tools in a Slayer’s arsenal.”
 
“Okay, then what’s the deal?” the younger boy asked, waving his arms about. “This guy’s been hanging around for weeks now. So how come she didn’t pick up on his extreme being-dead-ness until he actually went all grr-face on her?”
 
This gave Giles a moment of pause. With everything else that had been revealed since Buffy and the others had arrived at school, he hadn’t given that much thought. “I’m not sure,” he said with a frown. “My guess would be that this acquired ability she has… It’s not unlike a person suddenly being given the gift of vision after spending their whole life without it. No doubt it would take time for them to learn how to process and understand the new form of information.” He half-shrugged, although for Giles this amounted to a slight tilt of his head. “And I would guess that in Buffy’s case, at any given moment there is plenty else to distract her from making an accurate assessment of… one’s character.”
 
“So, what? You’re saying her Slayer senses work on any vampire she doesn’t happen to think is all dreamy and mysterious?”
 
Giles rolled his eyes. “I mean she has many other priorities in her life. Her education, her mother, her friends… all else that comes with being a teenager in America. I simply mean that Buffy is not as… focused… on her duties as a Slayer as those that have come before her. So, perhaps it is taking her longer to adjust… to hone her senses.”
 
“Oh.”
 
The librarian nodded, turning back to his book.
 
“But wait-”
 
“Xander, please. I’ve really told you everything I can. In the meantime, it is of utmost importance for us to arm ourselves with as much information about Spike as we can.”
 
“Why? So we can stake him?”
 
“I assume that will be the eventual course of action, yes.”
 
A gleeful smile erupted on the teenager’s face, and he reached for the book nearest to him. “Well why didn’t you say so?” He giggled, thumbing through a couple of pages. “I love research.”
 

|#|+---+---+|#|

 
“Master?”
 
“Yes, my child?”
 
“I’ve been thinking about the Three, and what they said about the Slayer.”
 
“Have you?”
 
“Yes,” said Collin, stepping forward to seat himself next to his Master’s throne. “They said that they chased her to her home.”
 
“Indeed. Their explanation as to why they were unable to capture her. I see it as nothing more than an excuse for utter failure.”
 
Nodding at his criticism, the Anointed was silent for another moment before continuing. “Master, when I was alive, I had a mother who I loved very much.”
 
Although he clearly had no concern for such human emotions- and neither did Collin –the Master seemed intrigued by this statement. “Did you?”
 
“Yes. And I think that if anything had happened to her, I would have been very upset.”
 
“Mm. But you’ve since outgrown such foolish notions, haven’t you?”
 
“I have. But Master… the Slayer. She also has a mother.”
 
Sharp eyes turned on him then, glowing with red hot understanding. A smile crept over the Master’s lips, and he reached out to brush his talons through Collin’s hair. “You do learn quickly, don’t you?”