Spike tossed and turned. Then turned and tossed again.

Though, try as he may, sleep stubbornly refused to come. Maybe it was because vampires were supposed to sleep during the day, and not at night. But his biological clock was a bit loopy at present anyway, thanks to the extenuating circumstances at hand. Plus, he couldn't help but replay his conversation with Buffy over and over again, letting it fester in the back of his mind.

'Soddin' couch,' he thought to himself as he turned over yet again in a vain attempt to get more comfortable. 'Don't think I'll ever be able to turn my bleedin' head again.'

Letting out a small groan of frustration, he rubbed his neck where the cramped muscles were starting to throb in protest.

'Bugger it. Who am I kidding, I can't sleep,' He thought bitterly.

He'd spent most the night thinking about what Buffy had said, and what exactly it all meant...for him, for their future...

Assuming they even had one.

Buffy had always run a bit hot and cold, especially when it came to their relationship. She was like the little angel on his shoulder... no, more like the little devil, whispering in his ear, constantly taunting him, reminding him of everything he always wanted and could never have. How could he have been so stupid to assume things were different? Was he foolish to ever think they could be?

Standing abruptly, he yanked his duster off the floor and slid his arms into the sleeves, barging outside to fulfill his unrelenting craving for a smoke. He fished for his trusty silver lighter in the back pocket of his jeans before taking a seat on the front porch steps. Lighting up quickly, he let out a stiff puff of smoke, the cigarette embers smoldering in the darkness.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, his entire body tensed slightly when he realized he was no longer alone.

He sensed her before he even heard her, the aroma of her sweet perfume filling his nostrils.

Buffy.

"You too, huh?"

Spike snuffed out his cigarette on the step next to him.

"Can't sleep." He explained, shrugging casually.

"Kinda figured." She stepped forward, taking a seat next to him on the porch step. "Me neither."

Spike didn't answer. He felt her eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he didn't know what to say, and in some ways he hated how she was currently playing it off like nothing happened between them.

'Ball's in your court, slayer.'

As if reading his mind, Buffy began to speak.

"I've been thinking..."

"First mistake," Spike interjected. It was meant to be a joke, but came out sounding a bit harsher than he intended.

Silence enveloped them again, briefly, until he suddenly heard her let out a loud sigh, then...

"I'm sorry."

Well, he hadn't been expecting that.

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head slightly to one side. She looked down at her lap, and for the first time, he noticed that she was wringing her hands together, one of her nervous habits.

"Are you, now?" Raising an eyebrow, he awaited her response.

Lifting her head, she met his gaze, and one look in her eyes told Spike that her words were sincere.

"It might not mean much, but I am sorry. About everything."

And that was all that needed to be said, for the time being. They'd made amends, but now came the really tricky part... the TALK.

After sitting together for several long moments in a fairly uncomfortable silence, Spike couldn't contain himself any longer.

"What exactly is this, between us?" He gestured with his hand, indicating the two of them. Turning his body so he could directly face her on the steps, he dropped his hands in exasperation. "What do you want, Buffy?"

She swallowed, hard, took in a deep breath.

"I don't know what I want, Spike." Shaking her head, she worked her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling furiously. "I think that's always been my issue."

'The day you suss out what you do want, there'll probably be a parade. 76 bloody trombones.'

That statement couldn't have rang truer, it seemed.

Spike snorted. "Bit of an understatement, luv."

Ignoring him, Buffy continued.

"There are a few things I do know..." She stared straight ahead, out into the night. Gathering her courage, she looked at Spike from the corner of her eye before continuing.

It was truth time.

"I know that I missed you. I know that when you died, a piece of me died with you..." She desperately wanted to reach out to him, take his hand, tell him they'd work out. But she didn't know that, she couldn't promise anything. So, anxiously, she merely told him how she felt, knowing she owed him that much.

"I know that you, being here, makes me happy." Looking upward, she caught Spike's gaze, and he was surprised to see the tears that glistened there, pooling in the emerald depths.

"And I know," She whispered, "I know... that I want you in my life." A tear welled up, spilled over, making a salty trail that glistened against her skin in the pale moonlight. "But that's all I can give you right now, Spike." Her voice was so small now, so feeble, that Spike barely even heard her last comment.

"Well, that's something." He replied softly, having to physically restrain himself from taking her in his arms, stroking her hair, telling her everything would be alright. Instead, they sat side by side in silence, much like they used to, even before Spike got his soul back.

Then, upon noticing the first faint hint of light peeking over the horizon, Spike stood up quickly.

"Sun's coming up," He explained, "Better hit the hay before I fit in an ashtray."

Buffy nodded her understanding, and he offered his hand which she accepted, allowing him to pull her to her feet next to him. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand from his, going inside the house ahead of him.

"Dawn'll be back soon," Buffy commented, wrapping her arms around her waist. "That is, assuming she didn't pull another round robin on me. And sooo not wanting to deal right now if she did." Spike chuckled slightly at this, remembering when the nibblet snuck out on Halloween night, giving her big sis quite a scare.

"Anyway," Buffy continued, following Spike into the living room, "I think we're gonna have a lot of explaining to do... to everyone... And, we still have some..."

"Unfinished business?" Spike finished for her.

Buffy nodded curtly. "Yeah."

As Spike shed his duster and sat on the couch, leaning forward to slip his boots off, Buffy realized his intention. Taking a hesitant step forward, she cleared her throat.

"Spike, you don't have to sleep on the couch."

Spike snapped his head upward, surprised.

"It, uh, can't be comfortable," She amended.

Smiling politely, Spike leaned his elbows against his knees and clasped his hands in front of him, holding her gaze.

"'ve slept on worse," He reminded her.

"I know, but... you shouldn't have to, now..." Buffy toyed with the collar of her shirt as she spoke. "You could use Dawn's room for now," She suggested.

"Right... I don't think Bit would appreciate coming home to find a supposedly toasted Big Bad in her bed."

Knowing he was right, Buffy realized there was only one other option...

"Then stay in my room."

His eyes widened slightly.

"Couch is fine, Buffy. Really."

But even as he said this, Buffy could see his discomfort as he rubbed at the strained muscles in the back of his neck. She crossed her arms tighter and arched an eyebrow as if to say "yeah, right".

"Alright, so I have a bit of a crink, but..."

"Spike... I'd feel better if you did..."

Seeing the genuine concern and sincerity in her eyes, Spike stood without further argument and followed her into her room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he watched her move about the space.

Pausing to make sure the curtains were drawn so as not to let any sunlight in the room, Buffy turned to leave.

"Buffy?"

She turned. "I have some things to do..."

"Bollocks," Spike mumbled. "You've got to be just as knackered as I am. You haven't slept all night."

She realized he was right. First, he'd shown up at her doorstep. Then, she had that strange nightmare, and upon being jolted awake, they'd fought. Yet it was only now that she realized she'd gotten virtually no sleep during the whole impossibly long night, and now the sun was coming up. Spike was supposed to sleep during the day, but she wasn't, and she was quickly feeling the effects of the not sleeping. Her dry eyes burned, and she was sure there must be dark circles marring her face. She let out a wide yawn.

"I need to get you some blood... from the butcher shop." She explained softly as the yawn subsided.

Again, Spike shook his head. "Doubt the butcher shop's open at this hour. 'Sides, I'm fine right now, Buffy. You need to rest..."

As she still hesitated to move, Spike sighed and poised to stand.

"Look, I can just..." But he trailed off as he felt her hand lightly touch his shoulder.

"No, stay."

No more words were spoken as he scooted backwards on the bed, waiting for her to climb in beside him. Hesitating for only the briefest of moments, she knelt on the bed before letting her head rest on the pillow next to him. They laid supine for several long minutes, both side by side but not touching and stiff as a board, neither quite sure of what to do. It was awkward, uncomfortable... It didn't feel right.

Quickly making up her mind, Buffy turned on her side, sliding her body close enough to pillow her head against his chest, letting her hand come to rest against his flat stomach. Spike responded immediately, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, and he had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a sigh of relief at her closeness. Smiling to herself, Buffy let her eyes close, blotting out everything in the world around her except for the feel of being in Spike's arms again.

'And tomorrow's a brand new day...'

Within seconds, they were both fast asleep.

*****

Dawn let herself in the house, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Buffy, I'm home!"

No answer.

Frowning, she dropped her over night bag on the floor and crept into the living room, letting out a wide yawn. She really hadn't gotten much sleep. In high school, "staying over at someone's house" usually translated into "partying all night long." Which in this case proved to be no exception.

Dawn went into the living room, and suddenly, she froze as she passed the sofa, her eyes locking on a very familiar object.

A black leather duster.

Her eyes widened slightly. It couldn't be, could it?

She approached the object, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch it, as though it might burn her.

It certainly felt real.

Dawn backed up quickly and raced up the stairs, she paused outside her sister's room, listening for any indication that something was amiss. "Buffy?" She called, though her voice came out small and weak.
Hearing nothing, Dawn cautiously pushed open the door, and gasped at the sight before her.

Buffy was asleep on her bed... in Spike's arms.

Spike, who was supposed to be dead.

Dawn swallowed hard, backing up slightly and accidentally tripping over something on the floor that she had no time to identify as the loud noise she inadvertently made jolted the two cozy bodies awake. Buffy sat up straight, rubbing her eyes to fend off grogginess. She squinted and knitted her eyebrows together in confusion as she took in a very confused Dawn who still stood in place, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"B-Buffy?" Dawn pressed her back against the wall, unable to tear her eyes away from Spike who was now sitting up slowly on the bed next to Buffy.

"Hello, Bit..." He tried lamely, his voice slightly hoarse and still thick with sleep.
But Dawn just continued to gawk in shock. Finally finding her voice, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I-It's the First, right?" She looked at Buffy. "He's not real, he can't be."

Quickly gaining her sense, Buffy briefly looked at Spike before jumping off the bed and rushing over to her sister. Grasping her gently by the shoulders, she attempted to calm her.

"Dawnie, no," Buffy said soothingly. "It's... he didn't die like we thought." She paused, frowning. "Or, he did, actually, but he came back and showed up here and you know what? It's a really long story. One I think will be better told when your jaw isn't sweeping the floor."

Realizing her mouth was still hanging wide open, Dawn snapped it shut, shaking her head to gain some clarity.

"Oh, sorry," She apologized. "It's just, I, wow..." Her voice trailed off, and as Spike stood from the bed, walking slowly across the room to join Buffy, Dawn jumped and backed out the door.

"I, uh, have to go unpack my bag." She squeaked. Though even as she said this, she found it hard to move.

"Dawn..."

Forcing a tight smile on her face, Dawn shifted her gaze to Buffy.

"Right. Going now." With that, she spun around and exited the room hurriedly.

Buffy sighed and clasped her hands in front of her as she watched her sister scurry down the hallway and disappear into her room.

"Well, that went swimmingly."

Buffy jumped at the sound of Spike's voice directly behind her, realizing he'd managed to sneak up on her while she'd been lost in thought.

"Sorry pet, didn't mean to scare you." Buffy smiled politely, shaking her head.

"No, it's just..." Meeting his eyes, she saw sympathy and understanding in them. "Dawn's just shocked, and confused," She explained.

"Expected as much."

"She just needs some time to absorb things," Buffy continued, "Then we'll explain away." Suddenly catching the time on the clock that hung on the wall over Spike's shoulder, her eyes widened.

"It's almost 1? I haven't slept in this late since... Well, never." She shook her head. "Wow, that's really pathetic. Three years removed and now I'm turning into a college kid." Suddenly realizing just how close Spike was standing, Buffy felt her body temperature rise slightly. Still, his effect on her never ceased to amaze. Her eyes remained lock on his black clad chest as she spoke.

"You must be hungry," She said, resolutely. "I'll make a run to the butcher shop."

"Buffy?" Spike's voice halted her as she turned to leave. His cool fingers caught her lightly by the elbow, feeling like a gentle caress against the heat of her skin.

"Yeah?"

He smiled kindly at her. "Thanks."

Raising her head, Buffy met his gaze again, seeing those startling blue, expressive eyes, and for a moment she was lost. His fingers lingered on her arm, and she was in no rush to pull away. Silently, she returned the smile, raising a hand to the side of his face and letting her thumb gently caress away the traces of her anger, where she'd slapped him that night. Eyes twinkling, he leaned into her touch, enjoying the feel of her warmth that seem to bleed through into his soul

'Still has me by the short hairs, she does.'

Unable to resist, she tilted her head upward and brushed her lips across his, letting her eyes flutter shut as she felt Spike respond. His lips parted slightly, fingers leaving her elbow to trail up her arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Her own hand still lingered on his cheek, her other hand merely resting against his abdomen, feeling taut muscles flex slightly underneath her touch. After a moment, Buffy broke off the kiss before it could escalate into anything more, taking a step back out of Spike's reach.

"I better get going. You sit tight, ok? I'm gonna check on Dawn before I leave, make sure she's not spazzing." Spike nodded, watching as Buffy left the room.

***

However, she didn't make it two steps when she was overcome with a blinding pain, starting in her stomach and shooting bolts of agony that radiated throughout her body and throbbed in her skull. Clutching at her stomach, she doubled over. The pain wouldn't go away. In fact, it seemed to intensify with each passing second. Taking sharp, ragged breaths, Buffy squinted in confusion as she felt a strange moisture on her hands. Raising them cautiously for her inspection, she gasped as she saw that they were covered in red.

Blood. Her blood.

Looking down for the first time, she saw the wound in her stomach, staining her shirt with blood, dripping slowly onto the floor and pooling at her feet.

She realized with gut certainty that it was the same wound the Uber Vamp had given her when he'd run her through with a sword in the Hellmouth, during the battle with the First Evil.

The wound that had almost killed her.

The pain became unbearable, and Buffy suddenly felt too weak to stand, catching herself against the wall before she could collapse onto the floor. Yet the gaping wound in her stomach paled in comparison to the sudden chaos that flooded her head. Raising her arms, she threaded her fingers through her hair, trying to massage away the agony. Vaguely, she was aware that someone was behind her, asking her if she was alright. But it seemed as though whoever it was were a million miles away. She couldn't quite decipher the words, as though she were under water and her ears weren't quite working right.

"My head," She moaned.

The voices. There are voices.

"Voices..." She whispered, feeling exactly like that time in high school when she'd been able to read people's thoughts. She couldn't distinguish one voice from the next, whether they were male or female, human or demon. But they all sounded distressed, calling out to her.

"Help me"

Buffy closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut them out.

"Buffy"

Her eyes flew open. She recognized that voice.

"Buffy, help!"

"Dawn."

Buffy pushed off from the wall, suffering a sudden wave of vertigo as she tried to maneuver herself down the hall that now seemed to go on for an eternity. She needed to get to Dawn. She'd heard her sister's plea for help in her mind.

Feeling along the wall for support, Buffy finally reached Dawn's room, kicking the door open so fiercely it sent splinters of wood flying in all different directions.

"Dawn!"

"Jeez, train wreck, much?!" Dawn jumped, staring at Buffy like she had two heads. "You know, most people at least knock before going all postal on the door!"

"Sorry." Relieved that Dawn was ok but still suffering with a migraine, Buffy leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes tight.

"Are you ok, Buffy? You don't look so good."

Buffy nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger to fight the splitting headache that still lingered.

"Yeah, just a headache."

"Don't worry," Dawn soothed, her voice dripping sweetness. "It'll all be over soon."

Buffy snapped her head upwards, staring at her sister in shock. Those words, she'd heard them before.

They were the words Spike had said to her in her dream.

"Don't worry, luv. It'll all be over soon."

"What did you say?"

Dawn narrowed her eyes slightly, examining her sister's strange behavior.

"I said you should take some Tylenol or something."

"Oh."

Buffy stood upright on wobbly legs, trying to calm herself and her escalated heartbeat.

"I, uh, need to go to the bathroom."

Excusing herself quickly, she ran to the bathroom as fast as she could while feeling like her limbs were made of jello. She turned on the faucet, bending over the sink and splashing cold water on her face. Grabbing the guest towel, she dabbed at the droplets, pausing to take in her appearance in the mirror. Hair sticking out in all directions, sticking to her damp forehead, eyes bloodshot...

'God, I'm a mess,' She thought. 'What the Hell is going on here?'

Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

Then, as if on cue, the hairs on her arms stood on end, and a shiver coursed through her tired body.

She stared at her reflection, her muscles tense. She couldn't see him. He was a vampire, so he had no reflection.

But she could feel him.

"Spike..."

"Hush," He commanded softly, and she obeyed without further question.

He crept up behind her, aligning his body with hers and pressing himself against her back
His breath on the back of her neck, and he brushed her hair aside, kissing her there, which caused a sudden flood of moisture between her legs, the pain in her skull melting into a sharp pleasure that sent sparks straight into her womb.

His hands snaked around her waist, fingers looping into the waistband of her pants and pushing them down, and Buffy was too weak to protest as the material collected around her ankles. She heard the metallic cling of Spike's zipper, and suddenly she felt the hard tip of his cock prodding her moist folds, seeking her entrance. Finding his target, he gave one firm thrust of his hips, sliding easily inside of her slick heat until he could push no further.

Buffy felt him, embedded so deep, stretching her, filling her. She was drunk with it, with him, with the sheer pleasure.

She raised her arm to grasp his neck, turning her head to capture his lips, but he avoided her mouth entirely. Instead, he twined his fingers through her golden hair and tugged, exposing her neck to him as he continued to move inside of her. Gasping as his lips caressed the side of her throat, she grabbed onto the sink in front of her with both hands, steadying herself. Buffy answered his every thrust, pushing back against him eagerly until his pace became almost violent, like a wild animal, growling and groaning. He pounded into her fiercely while his lips continued to suck at her neck, letting his tongue dart out to taste the sweet flesh. Tears suddenly blurred her vision. The pain, the ecstasy, the confusion... it was all too much. Suddenly, Buffy felt as though she were about to explode.

"Spike," She gasped, her knuckles turning white from the painful grip she had on the sink.

That was the only word she managed to choke out before she felt two sharp fangs savagely tear into her throat, taking deep pulls of her blood. Buffy cried out, and as he reached in front of her, pinching her clit between his fingers, she was lost, riding out the waves of an intense orgasm. Slowly, she opened her eyes as the sensation began to subside, watching in the mirror as Spike extracted his fangs from her neck, licking his blood stained lips and savoring the taste of her. She watched as he stared back at her intensely in the mirror, his yellow eyes fading back to their normal blue, and...

Wait a minute, something was wrong.

Spike was a vampire. She shouldn't be able to see him in the mirror.

Feeling something was amiss, Buffy's eyes drifted to take in her own appearance, and she let out a gasp of horror at the sight.

Yellow eyes, deep ridges in the forehead, razor sharp fangs... Somehow she had become a vampire, a demon. She stared, transfixed as her reflection slowly faded from the mirror until all she could see was Spike, who remained behind her.

But she was gone. Dead, a demon, gone.

She jumped as Spike's breath tickled her ear, and he began to whisper, something akin to a cryptic poem or chant, the words themselves resonating in her skull like the steady beat of a steel drum...

"When darkness falls, death will prevail.
Your will shall guide you through these darkest days.
Come hither, maiden, lift your veil.
That which is overthrown demands restoration.
It screams inside and never sleeps.
Blood awaits for those that seek redemption.
Consumes and burns as the shadow weeps."

***

"Feeling better, pet?"

Startled, Buffy's eyes flew open as she took in her new surroundings. Her mind desperately tried to grasp what had just happened. Had it all just been another dream?

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Buffy realized she was lying on the couch, on her back while Spike held an ice pack to her throbbing forehead. She groaned. The pain... Now she remembered. Squinting, she glanced at the clock on the wall, and did a double take. 2:15? That couldn't be right. It hadn't even been 1:00 when Dawn came home. Yet somehow, she had no recollection of the fact that an entire hour had passed. Sitting upright abruptly, she glanced at Spike, who looked upon her with concern and confusion. Then, she glanced down at her stomach to find no blood, no gaping wound. Feeling her face, she felt no lumpies, no fangs, just normal human features.

"Buffy?" She looked at him, her eyes desperate.

"Spike, I don't know what's happening," He blinked at her as she continued. "Somehow I lost an hour. Last thing I remember it wasn't even 1:00, then whoosh!" She made a wide gesture, "I don't even remember. What happened?"

"Well," He began, "The Bit found me with big sis, was rendered completely speechless for a record breaking 90 seconds and locked herself in her room. Then..." he paused, thinking. "You went to check on her and bloody near collapsed, complaining about a headache... so, I brought you here and sent Dawn to the butcher shop in your place."

"Oh." Buffy frowned. "I remember up to the part with the headache. But after that it's all just... blurry." She shook her head. "There's something strange happening here, and whatever it is... I think it's definitely of the supernatural type," She explained.


"I know."

Buffy looked at him, surprised. "You know?"

"I've no soddin' clue what it is, but I felt it. I've sensed it, in little tidbits ever since I came here." He sighed. "Something's brewing."

Buffy pulled her lip between her teeth, nibbling absentmindedly as she contemplated his words.

"I think it's time we talk to Giles."