When the door bell sounded, Spike was the one to answer. Swinging the door open cautiously, he stood back and stared into the face of the retired watcher.

"Spike," Giles said simply, stepping across the threshold and into the room.
Spike nodded his greeting, eyeing him warily.

"Giles."

Then, after taking it upon himself to close the door behind him, Giles stepped forward, raised an arm, and with a quick hand he flicked Spike on the forehead with a load "Thwack!" as his finger connected with flesh.

Spike growled in protest. "What the buggering hell was that for!"

Quirking an eyebrow, Giles peered at Spike through his glasses. "Just wanted to be sure."

Scowling, Spike stepped aside as Giles brushed past him. "Sure of what? That vampires can feel pain?"

"That you're corporeal."

Spike snorted. "Satisfied?"

"Quite."

"Well, good."

Giles removed his glasses, taking a moment to clean the smudged lenses on the bottom of his shirt. "Lucky I didn't tackle you," He mumbled under his breath. Spike took a threatening step closer.

"Come again, mate?"

"Wow, can you feel the love in this room."

Both men, now practically toe to toe, snapped their heads in the direction of the unexpected voice to see Buffy watching the two individuals facing off in her living room, her eyebrows raised and arms folded across her chest.

"Yes, that was sarcasm," Buffy sighed her irritation loudly, "I mean, I leave you two alone for five seconds, and hellooo to the tension. So, what now?"

"Apparently, Gramps here has his knickers in a twist," answered a smirking Spike.

"Ok you two, let's take it down a notch?" Though the statement was meant for both, she couldn't help but stare pointedly at Giles while she spoke.

"So, find anything worth while?" Buffy inquired after a moment, her gaze still fixed on Giles.

Just as she said this, the doorbell sounded as if on cue. Buffy looked at Giles with a frown, noticing his face showed no sign of surprise at the unexpected
interruption. He glanced quickly at his watch.

"Ah, yes. Right on time."

Moving toward the door at a quick pace, he swung it open, sporting a glare of impatience as he greeted the person waiting outside.

"Well, come in, then. Don't just stand there."

Reaching out the door, he grabbed the visitor by the arm and yanked, a protest of "Ow, hey!" heard as none other than Andrew appeared in the doorway, looking somewhat distressed.

Rubbing his arm, he threw Giles a sour look. "Hey, you told me to come here and I'm, like, on time and everything! Why'd you have to go all Darth Vader on me?" He whined. "What are you gonna do next? Strangle me with your invisible... mind powers?..."

But his voice trailed off, ending in a slight squeak as he saw who stood across the room from him. It was almost a comical sight, as Andrew's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, his jaw flapping open and closed like a fish. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, though it could've passed for something akin to "holy bat-mobiles." He shook his head, eyes still locked on Spike.
"It can't be. You're - you're dead!"

Spike shrugged, finding it difficult to hide his amusement as he stood with his arms folded. "Didn't stop me before, did it?"

If Andrew looked flustered before, it was nothing compared to the shade of tomato red his face turned when he heard Spike speak. He shifted from one foot to the other, looking rather like someone in a hurry to get to a bathroom.

"You, you don't have permission to speak, First slash Spike!..."

Andrew looked from Giles, to Buffy, then back again, looking very anxious as he waited for someone to disprove what he'd said.

Buffy rolled her eyes as she realized both men were trying to let Andrew sweat it out a little. Taking pity on him, she spoke up before he could say anything else.

"It's not the First, Andrew. It's really Spike."

"But, but it can't be. He told me-"

Three pairs of eyes bored holes into Andrew, who had apparently realized a moment too late that he'd probably said more than he should have.

"Who told you, Andrew?" Buffy's voice seemed to startle him, and he jumped a bit. He paused, clearly conflicted over something, before finally lowering his head and answering in a hushed whisper.

"The Immortal"

Silence enveloped the room at his response, the only sound being Spike who let out a soft, chortled laugh.

"Figures," He muttered, though the comment was blatantly discarded as Buffy took a step toward Andrew.

"What did he tell you?" She asked, trying to make her tone as non-threatening as possible, though it was obvious her patience was beginning to grow thin ashis only response was a casual shrug. Andrew's head now hung so long his chin rested against his chest.

"Andrew," She tried again, taking another step closer. "Don't play games. I want details." She stopped directly in front of him, arms crossed as she awaited a response. "So tell me, right now, exactly what was said."

Another moment passed, and just as Buffy was about to open her mouth again to speak, Andrew lifted his head slowly. But as Buffy met his eyes, she let out a small gasp of surprise when she suddenly knew with gut certainty that the person she stared at wasn't Andrew anymore. Her feeling wasn't wrong, as both Giles and Spike seemed just as shocked as Buffy was, because the eyes staring back at them were wild looking and glowed a bright, menacing amber color. Though none of them had time to react as without warning,Andrew suddenly attacked, emitting a deep, animalistic growl and lunging at Buffy, pushing her aside so roughly she was knocked clear off her feet and landed with an "Ommph!" But Andrew didn't stop there. He charged, much like an angry bull, at full force across the room... and right at Spike.

He had no time to dodge, no time to prepare for an attack as Andrew moved with such unexpected speed and agility that Spike was on the ground before he even realized what had happened. And a split second later, he heard a cry of horror just as he felt a pointy wooden object piercing his chest, tearing through his yielding flesh like a knife through butter. Spike let out a howl of pain, suddenly aware that Buffy had pulled Andrew off of him, who was now slumped on the floor like a rag doll. Giles went to Andrew, grabbing him beneath the arms and dragging him into the kitchen as Buffy rushed to Spike's side and knelt beside him.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, she pulled the stake from his chest and threw it aside, her face glazing over with concern as he let out another groan of pain.

"Spike," She said, "Are you ok?"

"Mostly," He grumbled, allowing Buffy to help him into a sitting position. "That stings like a bleedin' bitch. But least I'm not dust, which is a plus." Noticing Buffy flinch as he said those words, he reached for her hand, which she grasped without hesitation.

"So then, he..."

"Missed?" Spike finished her sentence. "Yeah. 'S a good thing the boy's got lousy aim." But despite Spike's efforts to make light of the situation, Buffy's face remained clouded over with worry, though the relief she felt over Andrew having missed was just as hard to mask.

"Spike," She whispered, taking a moment to compose herself before she continued. "I've never seen anyone move that fast. I mean, he just charged at you. And his eyes..." Pausing, she worked her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplated. "That wasn't Andrew. Because Andrew would have missed. Whatever was controlling him, or possessing him... I think it was meant to miss. Like maybe this was some sort of message."

Spike pursed his lips. "Why am I always the bleedin' message?" He stood slowly, dull bursts of pain spreading throughout his chest as he leaned on Buffy, who guided him over to the couch. After Spike was comfortably seated on the couch, Buffy left the room, reappearing a minute later with a bowl of water, a towel, and some bandages. Helping him pull his shirt over his head, she then began tending to him, soundlessly cleaning away the dried blood before gently whiping the area clean with the unused portion of the towl and applying a large white bandage. Then, she dropped the soiled towel in the bowl and set it at her feet for the time being, turning to look at Spike as he started to speak.

"Well, least this explains why Andrew was acting so bloody wierd when me 'n Angel came here before," He said, and Buffy frowned.

"'Wierd' like how?"

Spike thought for a minute.

"Wierd like... normal," He chuckled, "A bit... suave, actually. Didn't know the little ponce had it in him." Buffy sucked in a deep breath, looking down at her lap as she once again lost herself to her thoughts.

"So, who d'ya think's driving the wheel this time? Any thoughts?" The only thing that told Spike she'd even heard his question was a barely noticeable shake of her blond head. Several long moments of silence followed until Buffy finally spoke.

"I just can't believe I didn't realize something was off with Andrew," She said softly. "How did I not notice?"

Unable to resist a little jealous jab, Spike's next comment nearly had him putting his own foot in his mouth. "S'pose you were too caught up with your honey to notice."

"He's not my honey," She answered quickly, a scowl on her face.

"Alright, your love, then."

"Spike" Clearly irritated, Buffy spun to face him, ready to chew him out but stopped when she saw the vulnerable look in his eyes. She sighed, suddenly feeling an inexplicable need to reassure him.

"I never loved him. Not like..." She looked away, "That." She was shocked to realize she'd just almost said "not like I love you"

Spike seemed to visibly relax a bit at her words. "Oh. Well, good to know."

Spike pulled the black t-shirt (which now sported a rather sizeable hole through which the white bandage could be clearly seen) back on over his head.

"So, what do you reckon is his involvement with this whole thing anyway?"

"I don't know. It was like, something deep down never really let me trust him completely. I don't know why, but, at least now I'm glad I broke up with him." Spike tried, though not very well, to hide his surprise (and excitement) over her last statement. Though Buffy didn't notice. "My streak continues," she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. "I really know how to pick'em, don't I."

Spike tried to let the comment roll off him as he quickly lit a cigarette to soothe his frazzled nerves. "Sorry to say, luv, but I don't think you were the one doing the picking this time around."

Buffy shot him a look, drawing her eyebrows together in confusion. "Huh?"

Taking a long, appreciative drag, Spike let out a stream of smoke, careful not to blow it in Buffy's face. "The Immortal picked you, pet, not the other way around. Seems he probably wowed your friends first, maybe worked some sort of mystical mojo. Whatever the case, he came to you for a reason. So he put the boy under a thrall, had him do his bidding." Spike snuffed out his cigarette. "Almost poetic, in'nit? Soddin' brilliant," He mumbled. "Slimier 'n a chaos demon's antlers, that guy. Unfortunately for us, he does have his wits about him." His voice trailed off, but Buffy swore she heard him mumble something along the lines of "Believe me, I know", under his breath.

"We don't know that yet," Buffy said.

"What more proof do you need? We know someone was controlling Andrew. Funny, the Immortal just so happened to have told him something that damn near spooked him out of his wits when he saw me. How soddin' convenient."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything." She protested, weakly. "It could be completely unrelated."

Spike snorted at this, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Yeah, right."

"Look, Spike, I know you have something against him, ok? I have no idea what happened between you two, but I do know him too. And I think I would've known if he was evil. I'm not that far removed from the slayer gig you know, and my spidey sense wasn't exactly tingling around him."

Biting his tongue to keep from commenting on the "tingling" bit, Spike shrugged instead.

"Don't need to defend him, luv." He said. "No use getting all bent out of shape over it."

As he poised to light another cigarette, Buffy yanked it from his hand, tossing it into the bowl at her feet, and spike cast an irritated glare her way.

"I don't want this house smelling like an ashtray," She stated shortly, quickly getting to her feet.

"I need some air," she said, getting up to walk outside.

Clenching his jaw for a moment as he collected himself, Spike stood and followed her, quickly closing the distance between them before she could go out the door and halting her by grasping her gently by the wrist.

"Sorry, pet. Didn't mean to upset you," He said sincerely.

When Buffy didn't answer him, Spike's initial reaction was to be slightly irritated, until he realized something.

She was crying.

Spike silently scolded himself.
'Great job, you git, now you've made her all weepy'

"Buffy," He said as she turned to face him, not even bothering to hide the tears spilling down her cheeks. Though, she never had to hide from Spike. "Look, I-"

"No, it's just..." She sucked in a shaky breath, having stopped crying, though her face remained damp from the tears. "I thought I was past all this, you know? I just thought, after..." She swallowed hard, "That things could be normal, and now..." Her voice trailed off. Forcing a weak smile on her face, she shook her head. "I'm being stupid, and selfish, I know..."

But he just shook his head, offering his sympathy and as she looked up at him, staring into a sea of blue she realized she needed him then, needed something to hold onto. Next thing Spike knew, he had an arm full of Buffy, much to his surprise. Wrapping his arms around her, he returned the embrace, and she rested her head against his shoulder, allowing her eyes to close for a brief moment as she soaked in his strength.

Just then, Giles entered the living room, clearing his throat when he saw the two blondes embracing, completely oblivious to his presence.

Quickly, they pulled apart and Buffy dried her eyes before turning to face him so he wouldn't know she'd been crying. "How's Andrew?" She asked.

Giles looked at her. "He's incapacitated at the moment. He doesn't seem to recall what he did."

"So, then. Cutting to the chase, exactly what the Hell was that all about?"

"It seems something was controlling Andrew."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we kind of picked up on that part, chief. Tell us something we don't know."

Ignoring him, Giles continued. "There's quite a lot going on here," He said. "and a hell of a lot to explain."

"And what about my bizarro dreams?" Buffy asked.

I'm still looking into all that." Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before he turned his attention back to Buffy. "I think it best we all lay low for the time being. It seems we're all in a bit of danger."