Chapter 3

She woke up flat on her stomach, her head in the crook of his arm. She could feel his cool, strong body against her side, his face against her hair, his free hand light on the curve of her shoulder, thumb dreamily making small, absent circles on her skin. She smiled into the bend of his elbow.

"Haven’t you slept?"

"Sleep later," he breathed. "When you’re gone. Like feeling you against me."

She rubbed her lips back and forth against the satin skin of his inner arm, felt him shiver. "What time is it?"

"About six. Sun’s just come up." Even with the curtains drawn, he could tell, with that vampire’s infallible knowledge of exactly where the sun was.

"Don’t have to go quite yet." She stretched luxuriously, buried her face in the pillow as he drew his arm away. "Mmm. Want to stay a little longer. Comfortable."

He ran his hands down her back, a slow, languorous caress across her shoulderblades to her ass and back again.

"How about I make you uncomfortable?"

She laughed into the pillow. "Works for me."

She could feel him smiling as his mouth ran down her spine, then she shivered as his tongue ran back up it. His arms settled on either side of her and his weight came across her back. His lips slid along the curve of her neck, lingered there, sucking at her skin lightly, mouthing her flesh.

"You want to bite, don’t you?"

"Oh, yeah." But all he was using was his blunt human teeth, his fangs nowhere in evidence.

"Go ahead. I don’t mind."

He went still in surprise. "You mean it."

"Yes." It was one more intimacy she wanted to give him.

He kissed the side of her neck, over the vein. "No."

"Why not?"

He let out a little breath against her skin. "Wouldn’t be able to stop myself from claiming you."

"What’s that?"

"Binding you to me for all time. Want it. Want it too much. If I get my fangs in you, I’d do it. Wouldn’t be able to stop myself. So, no."

"Maybe I want to be bound."

"Tell me that when you have your memory back. Until then, no. You might not want it if you had your memory back, and it’s irrevocable. To claim you now would be to take away all your choices. So, no."

She could see how much he wanted it. His longing for it was naked on his face. But he was resolute.

"I think I love you," she said. She did. He was trying so hard, cared for her so much, fighting his own nature to do right by her.

"Oh, God, Buffy!"

"I do."

"Oh, my girl. I love you so much." He kissed her fiercely hard and she kissed him back, tried to turn so that she could put her arms about him. He stopped her, smiling. "No. Let’s try it this way. Might like it."

He was moving against her back, sliding up and down her skin, rubbing himself against her. She pushed back involuntarily, arcing against him, and felt him hardening between her thighs. His hands slipped under her, closing on her breasts. She purred, arcing her breasts into his hands as he kneaded them, his thumbs rubbing her nipples. He bit the junction between her neck and shoulder softly with his blunt human teeth and she shivered.

"Ohhh."

His hands were sliding all over her, her breasts and her belly and between her legs, kneading and caressing. She arced back against him, her head against his shoulder, her hands grabbing at the rails of the metal headboard because she needed to hold on to something.

"Oh, God."

He caught her thighs, drawing them apart, came into her in one smooth thrust. She pushed back involuntarily, gasping, feeling him thick and hard within her. It was a new angle, deeper, harder.

"Oh, yes!"

He had found her G-spot, was hitting it with every thrust. The heel of his hand pressed at it from the outside and his fingers strummed her clit. His other arm clasped her ribcage tightly, holding her to him, forearm between her breasts, hand gripping her shoulder.

"Oh, God, Spike!"

She clung to the rails of the headboard, arcing and writhing under him as he drove into her, goading her relentlessly higher and higher. It was unbearable. She came hard, fireworks going off in her brain, felt him shudder and groan helplessly against her as he too fell over the edge.

His forehead hit the pillow beside her head and his weight was heavy on her for a few minutes while they gasped against each other’s faces. Then he recovered himself and drew back. She twisted to face him, wrapped her arms around him. They lay holding each other.

"That was incredible," she murmured.

"Oh, yeah..." A lost breath against her eye.

"But I like this way better. Like to see you, see your face. Like to hold you."

"All sorts of ways to make love," he sighed. "Want to try them all with you."

She giggled involuntarily. "What, with all the toys? The...the cock rings and the feathers and the whips and chains?"

He laughed. "That’s for jaded palates. Gonna be a long time before I’m even close to being jaded with you. Several centuries maybe. Don’t need the toys, pet. Lots of ways to make love even without them. Chains, though...Shackle you down, drive you crazy. Good idea that."

"Looking forward to it," she purred. "Though the other way. Shackle you down."

"Oh, please." He dropped his face between her breasts, burrowed there, replete and spent. "Oh, my girl. Don’t think I’ve ever been this happy."

"Mm." She laid her cheek against his bright hair and they stayed there for a while, just luxuriating in the feel of each other. At last Buffy drew back with a regretful sigh. "Gotta get back home. I’ve left Dawn all night. I wonder if the Scoobies know I haven’t been home yet."

"Have an awful feeling they do, what with Xander chasing after you last night. They’re probably freaking out right this minute."

"Huh." She sat up and reached for a curtain, angling it carefully so that the sunlight coming through would not touch him. Outside, it was clearly day; the sun had definitely risen. "Want to test your necro-tempered glass?"

He laughed and held his hand out into the shaft of sunlight. Nothing happened.

"How about that?" she said. "It works."

"You didn’t think it would, did you?"

"Not really."

There was another button to open the curtains, on the wall beside the bed. He reached out and pushed it. The room flooded with sunlight.

"That glass has its advantages," he remarked. "You’re gorgeous in the sunlight, luv. My golden girl."

"So are you." She leaned over him, smiling, running her parted lips over his face, tracing his features one by one, teasing him.

"Oh, pet." He caught her mouth with his.

"Have to go."

"Mm."

"Really have to go," she repeated reluctantly, several minutes later. "Where are all my clothes?"

He sighed and released her regretfully. "With mine, all over the floor of the livingroom."

It normally wouldn’t have taken her that long to dress, but with all the distractions he provided, it was more than an hour later before the cab he called for her deposited her at Revello Drive. She walked into the house to find the entire Scooby gang, including Giles, scattered in random heaps about her livingroom.

"What on earth are all of you doing here?"

They all leaped to their feet. "Buffy, where have you been?"

"Out. Have you guys been here all night?"

"We were worried. We couldn’t find you. Where were you?" different voices yelled.

She raised her brows at them. "Slayer here, remember? More dangerous than anything around."

"Where were you?" Xander demanded.

"None of your business."

"But, Buffy," Willow protested. "We were worried. What happened last night?"

"Nothing much. Did a patrol of the northern cemeteries that we’ve been neglecting, then did a quick pass through the town. Dropped in at the Bronze. The rest is none of your business."

"You picked someone up?" Willow’s voice went high in amazement. "You never do that!"

"Told you there was nothing to worry about," said Anya scornfully to Xander, then gave Buffy a wide, conspiratorial smile. "So, was he hot?"

Buffy grinned. "Very."

"About time. I hope you got a couple of good orgasms out of it."

"Oh, yeah," said Buffy dreamily.

Willow’s mouth was open in shock, both Tara and Anya were grinning, Giles was polishing his glasses frantically, and Xander was gobbling like a turkeycock.

"Who was it?" Xander demanded.

"What part of none of your business didn’t you understand, Xander? Now why don’t all of you go home? I feel like basking in the afterglow."

Giles bolted precipitately for the door and Tara drew a somewhat shell-shocked Willow after him. Xander, of course, insisted on hanging around, uselessly throwing questions at her and blustering when no answers were forthcoming, then was dragged bodily out of the house by an exasperated Anya.

"She’s a grown woman, Xander. She can have sex with anybody she wants to." Anya smiled over her shoulder at Buffy as she pulled Xander out of the front door. "A sexually satisfied Slayer is a better Slayer. Anyone knows that."

"Anya!" Xander yelled.

"Oh, come on, Xander. Orgasms do a world of good. Basic fact of life. I’m glad you finally came to your senses, Buffy. Have fun. Enjoy."

"She’s not going to keep on..." Xander started to splutter. "Buffy, you’re not...!"

Buffy shut the door after them as Anya pulled him, still resisting, down the walk. She locked the front door, then went up the stairs and stopped short on the landing when Dawn popped out of her bedroom.

"Is it Spike?" Dawn asked, keeping her voice low, as if the others were still in the house to hear her.

Buffy nodded and Dawn squealed loudly and hugged her, bouncing up and down with glee.

"This is so cool! I won’t tell anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Someone will die if that lot found out," Buffy agreed. "I’ve got to find some way to get them used to the idea. I really don’t like all this secrecy, but..."

"Yeah. Xander and Giles would be after him with stakes if they knew. Don’t worry, Buff. We’ll figure something out. Pity we can’t tell Tara. She comes up with good ideas. But if we tell her, she’ll tell Willow. She’d feel it wouldn’t be right not to. And Willow would tell the others."

"Maybe it’s the memory loss, but I really can’t see what the big problem is that they have with Spike."

"It’s the no-soul-equals-evil thing." Dawn sighed. "They’re dumb that way. Spike hasn’t done anything really bad for a long time, but all they can see is that he could if he wanted to. Anybody could if they wanted to. Serial killers do, don’t they? Soul’s no guarantee."

"You’re bright for a fourteen-year-old, aren’t you?" Buffy grinned and Dawn made a face at her. "Why can’t the Scoobs see that?"

"The girls would come around in no time. They’re smart that way. But Xander and Giles? You know what I think it is? I think they’re jealous."

Buffy’s brows rose and Dawn shrugged.

"C’mon, Big Sis. Giles is a surrogate father and you know how fathers are when their little girls grow up and get boyfriends. And Xander? He’s had the hots for you forever. He hated Angel and he only got along with Riley because he saw Riley as a kind of action figure double of himself. Sort of lived through him vicariously, if you see what I mean."

"What kind of TV have you and Janice been watching recently?" demanded Buffy and Dawn grinned.

"You don’t want to know. Will you be seeing Spike again tonight?"

Buffy nodded. "Will you be all right on your own for a couple of hours every night? I’ll take my cell with me. You could call if there are any problems and both of us would be right there in no time."

"No prob. He’s not at his crypt any more, is he? Didn’t think so," she said when Buffy shook her head. "That was one of the places Xander went last night when he was looking for you. He came back when he couldn’t find you and kept saying that you were with Spike. When Willow couldn’t find you even with a locator spell, he went looking for Spike."

"They did all that?" Buffy was frowning. "I thought Spike was getting paranoid when he moved, but it looks like he was right."

"I suppose they want to keep you safe," said Dawn dubiously. She and Buffy exchanged glances. "I can totally understand why you don’t like it. I hated it when everyone got all over-protective about me a while back."

"I wish I had my memory back," muttered Buffy. "They wouldn’t be doing this to me if I had my memory back."

"Yes, they would. Getting your memory back wouldn’t make any difference to the way they feel about Spike. They’d still be all over you about him. We’ll have to figure out something different."

Dawn was right, Buffy thought a few hours later, looking at the shambles that the ground floor of Spike’s crypt had become. The screen of the ancient television set had been deliberately smashed, the armchair knocked over, the candles flung everywhere, and the door of the small fridge left wide open so that the couple of packets of blood still inside would spoil. The anger and malice behind the damage was evident. It was a message, Xander’s version of the plastic stake that Riley had shoved through Spike’s heart.

The trapdoor at the back of the crypt had not been discovered. She tried to pull it up, but it wouldn’t budge. Spike must have thrown the latch when he left and gone out through the sewer access. She went in through the sewers as Spike had shown her and was relieved to find that the downstairs area was undisturbed.

"Nothing that can’t be replaced, luv," said Spike unconcernedly when she told him about it that night. "Expected something like that. That’s why I changed locations."

"He would have staked you for real if you’d been there," she said with a little shiver.

"Yeah. Happened once before when he thought I was getting somewhere with you. Glory’s minions broke up that little party before he could get the stake out."

"And I had my memory at the time."

"Couldn’t have been in your right mind if you were taking up with me. Your mother had just died. Clearly I was taking advantage of your being vulnerable. You had to be rescued from yourself. An intervention was necessary," he finished dryly.

"I see. So the only time I’m in my right mind is when I do what they want."

"Not quite as bad as that, luv."

"Oh, I think it is."

They looked at each other ruefully.

"Let it go, pet," he said, gently stroking her hair back from her face. "Worry about that later."

"I can’t. What are we going to do? How does one go about changing that kind of fixed mindset?"

"We’ll find a way. Have to, don’t we? See how it plays, once you get your memory back."

"Yeah. Then I can tell them all where to go."

He laughed and rolled her over onto her back. "That’s my Slayer."

But there was a darkness behind his eyes, a fear that he wasn’t articulating.

"You don’t think I will, when I get my memory back."

"May not want to, pet, when you’re yourself again. Might not want this."

They had gone on patrol and come back to the Wolfram and Hart safe house and made love and were now just luxuriating in the afterglow for an hour before she went back home to Dawn again.

"I’ll want it," she said. She couldn’t see herself ever not wanting this.

"We’ll see."

He bent over her, drawing intricate patterns with his mouth and his hands over her breasts and belly and thighs. He had a gift for living in the moment, refusing to let doubts and fears interfere with the present joy, immersing himself in it. She realized that it was because he was accustomed to not having things, to always losing whatever he had achieved.

"I’ll always want it," she said softly against his mouth. "Even if I should forget everything that’s happened, somewhere inside I’ll still want it and grieve for not having it. You’ve made me so happy. I want you to know that, Spike."

He pressed his face between her breasts, holding her to him.

"Oh, my girl. Not asking for forever. Not asking for promises or a claim. Not asking for any more than what’s right here and now. That’s enough for me. Maybe you’ll stake me for this when you remember. Don’t care. If you should stake me for it right this moment, it would still be worth it."

She held him tightly, her arms fierce about him. "Don’t ever want to lose this. Don’t want my memory back if it means losing this, Spike."

"Maybe you’ll remember this when you remember the rest. Maybe if you want it enough, you’ll remember."

"I want it," she said intensely, from the bottom of her heart.

***

"I’ve tried everything," said Willow. It was ten days later and the Scoobies had finally decided to resort to magic in an effort to bring Buffy’s memory back. Under Tara’s careful supervision, Willow concocted all sorts of potions that Buffy dutifully swallowed, and tried all sorts of spells, none of which worked. "I’m sorry, Buffy."

"I don’t care," Buffy shrugged. "I’m functioning perfectly well without it. I don’t seem to need a memory to slay demons. In fact, I’m perfectly happy without a memory."

Willow, Xander and Giles looked frustrated, Anya was amused and Tara looked both sympathetic and thoughtful.

"You don’t really want to remember, do you?" Tara said and the others looked around at her in surprise.

"Oh, come on, Tara!" Xander exclaimed. "How can she not want to remember?"

"A lot of bad things happened," Tara said slowly. "Her mother’s death, her father’s leaving them, Angel, Parker, Riley, all the apocalypses. Wouldn’t you want to forget all that pain? Why would anyone want to bring all of that back?"

"You mean she’s doing it on purpose?" Xander sounded almost affronted, as if Buffy had let them all down by not trying to remember.

"Not on purpose. But what incentive does she have to get her memory back? I’d let it go," said Tara quietly. "She’s absolutely right. She’s functioning perfectly well without it. It’ll come back when she’s ready."

"But..."

"Tara’s quite right, Xander," Giles said heavily. "I’ve been having doubts about this all along. It doesn’t seem right to force it on her. It might even be traumatic."

"Good," said Buffy. She had gone along with all this magic business because they had been so insistent about it, but she was glad it hadn’t worked. She ran her hands through the loose golden waves of her hair and smoothed down the silky top and black leather wraparound that she was wearing. "Giles, you said we could go to the Bronze once this is over."

"Yes, go ahead," Giles nodded. "You’ve been working very hard, all of you. You do deserve a break."

She had agreed to go dancing at the Bronze because she knew she should spend some time with the Scoobies, but although it was fun, Buffy kept waiting for that tingle that was Spike’s signature. Towards the end of the evening, she felt it. Xander and Anya were on the dance floor, but Willow and Tara were sitting this one out. Buffy hurriedly downed the half-inch of cola remaining in her glass and stood up.

"I’m going to get another drink," she announced and headed for the bar.

She was glad that the bartender was busy, since she had no intention of placing an order. She smiled as a presence came up against her back, leaning forward on his two straight arms on the counter on either side of her. She leaned back against him, tipping her head back to rest on his shoulder, feeling that cool body supple and strong behind her.

"I wondered when you’d show up," she murmured.

"Thought you’d need the bonding time. Did a patrol. Nothing’s stirring." He brushed his lips against her temple. "I gather the magic business didn’t work."

"No. They tried everything."

"Don’t know whether I’m glad or sorry," he confessed.

"Neither do I." She turned to face him, her hand running lightly down his chest to flatten against his stomach just above his belt buckle, the movement hidden by his duster.

He laughed breathlessly. "Playing with fire there, pet."

"Mm." She tugged lightly at his belt, pulling him forward until he leaned full on her, his eyes smiling as his weight pressed her against the counter. She slid her hand around his side under the duster and flattened it in the small of his back, holding him to her. "Tara said it was because I didn’t want to remember."

His face went soft. "Don’t you?"

"Not if it means losing this."

Willow saw Tara’s eyes widen and turned to follow her gaze. Her jaw dropped as she saw what Tara was looking at and she started to jerk to her feet. Tara’s hand closed on her wrist and pulled her back down into her chair.

"Willow. Don’t judge. Just look," Tara said quietly.

Spike was saying something intense and hushed to Buffy and the look on his face was so helpless, so vulnerable, that it made Willow catch her breath. Buffy put a hand against his cheek. He put his hand over hers to press it to his face and his eyes closed for a moment as he leaned his cheek into her hand.

"He really loves her," Willow said under her breath.

"Yes." Tara looked at her. "Would it be so wrong?"

"But...She doesn’t...Her memory..."

"Let them work it out."

"But..."

"Can’t we do that, Will? Do we really have the right to interfere?"

"I don’t know." Willow looked at Tara’s grave, sweet eyes watching her so steadily. "I really don’t know. This is all too complicated."

Buffy had turned and was pulling Spike onto the dance floor.

"What the hell!" Xander was standing beside them, staring at the dance floor with his mouth wide open.

Willow winced. "Uh, Xander, they’re only dancing."

"But that’s Spike! She’s dancing with Spike?"

"Why not?" Anya pulled out a chair beside Tara and sat down. "I’d like to dance with Spike. He’s hot."

"Will someone please tell me why nobody else sees anything wrong with this picture?" Xander demanded. "She wouldn’t have given him the time of day before she lost her memory, but now she forgets all about us and takes up with the Evil Dead instead. And you guys think there’s nothing wrong?"

"They’re just dancing, Xander," Willow repeated weakly.

"And what else? We’ve got to do something about it. Where’s my cell?" He fumbled in his pocket, yanked out his cell phone and stalked away, mumbling to himself as he punched in a number.

"Probably calling Giles to complain," said Anya, exasperated. "So silly."

Buffy was looking right at them over Spike’s shoulder as they danced. She raised her brows and smiled.

"She’s making a statement," Tara murmured.

"I hope it doesn’t backfire on her," Willow muttered. "Giles and Xander might decide to stake Spike."

"Does that seem right to you?" Tara asked and Willow sighed.

"No," she conceded. "No, it doesn’t. You’re right, baby. It is none of our business, after all."

Tara smiled at her.

"They’re going to give you a hard time about this," Spike said as he and Buffy swayed to the slow, driving beat of the music on the dance floor.

"What’s wrong with just dancing?" She smiled and rubbed herself against him under the cover of his duster.

He grinned. "The way you dance..."

"They’ve got to start getting used to the idea. What if I never regain my memory? Are we supposed to go on hiding from them forever? This is not some hole-in-the-corner affair. I’m not ashamed of being with you. They’ll just have to deal."

"God!" he exclaimed. "I love you so much."

"Start out slow. Get them used to it step by step."

"The last step’s the one that’s gonna give them a heart attack. That last one’s gonna be like falling off a cliff for them."

"I think the girls may already have gotten the idea. The guys..." She looked up at him worriedly. "The guys might come after you with a stake."

"Then I’ll take them out," he shrugged. "Not afraid of them. They can’t hurt me." He touched her face lightly. "You’re the only one who can hurt me, pet. Because I’ll let you."

She shivered. "Don’t say things like that. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Saying things like that is like daring fate."

"We’re already daring fate. You and me, it’s wrong. Think I don’t know it? But I can’t give it up even if I dust for it."

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "Can we get out of here, do you think? Want to be back at your place. Want to be making love to you."

"Oh, God, yes." He eased her backwards through the dancers, heading unobtrusively towards the Bronze’s back door. "How long do we have? When do you have to be back home?"

She grinned. "Not till morning. I let Dawn stay over at Janice’s when I found out the Scoobies were planning to come here."

"The whole night, is it?" His eyes lit up.

"Planning on being inventive?"

They were out in the darkness of the alley. He shoved the back door shut, pressed her against it and kissed her hard.

"Nah. Just planning to fuck you blind."

She laughed against his mouth. "You have the most romantic ideas."

They struggled down to the back alley where he had hidden the DeSoto, kissing all the way and falling over each other’s feet. The alley was deserted and completely black. Buffy tripped over something in the darkness and they fell against the side of the DeSoto, leaned there, kissing avidly, their mouths and hands hungry on each other.

She ran her hands down his torso, cupped the hard bulge in his jeans. He gasped back from her mouth, his whole weight coming on her.

"God, pet!" His hands ran up her inner thighs. "Oh, yeah. A skirt has advantages, doesn’t it?" He was pulling it up. "Did you plan this?"

"No. Didn’t have to patrol. Going dancing...Ohhh..."

She caught her breath as he snapped the sides of her thong and pulled it away. She raised a leg to hook her thigh across his hip, rubbing her wetness against him. He groaned.

"Spike..."

His hands came under her, lifting her up. Then he was shoving home. She gasped at the feel of him thick inside her, clenched upon him. They both moaned.

"Oh, yes."

They were both gasping against each other’s faces now, their breaths ragged, lost in the pounding rhythm of their bodies arching and thrusting against each other. This was reckless and crazy, making love in the open like this, where anyone could walk in on them. But she didn’t care, it was so deliciously decadent, so erotic, so much fun, and she couldn’t have waited another minute anyway...

She felt him shudder violently against her as he came, bit the leather shoulder of his duster to keep from screaming as she fell over the edge herself, colored lights flashing behind her closed eyes.

***

The room was flooded with sunlight when she woke. She jerked forward instinctively to hit the button that would close the curtains, then stopped when she remembered what kind of glass was in the windows.

He laughed beside her. "Thanks for the thought, pet. Glad you care."

"Huh." She rolled over to face him, snuggled into his arms, her face in his throat. "What time is it?"

"Around eight. We were both dead to the world. Five hours straight can exhaust even a vampire."

She laughed helplessly against his throat. "Wuss."

"Like you held up that much better, Slayer."

She hugged him tightly. "Ohh. I’m just limp. Don’t want to move."

He kissed the top of her head. "So don’t."

"Got to. Janice’s mother will be dropping Dawn off any minute. I should get back."

She sighed deeply, then pushed him away reluctantly and climbed out of bed.

"Could join you in the shower," he murmured and she laughed at him.

"Insatiable. No, you don’t. I’m late enough as it is without adding another couple of hours to the tally."

When she came out of the bathroom again, he was out of bed himself and pulling on his jeans.

"Feels weird without underwear," she said, clipping her wraparound about her waist. "What happened to my thong?"

"It’s in the pocket of my duster. But, uh, you won’t be able to wear it, pet. Sides are gone."

She grinned. "Oh, right. At least my bra survived."

She shrugged that on and he hooked the clasp for her, then tipped her backwards across his arm to kiss her between her breasts, both of them laughing, before releasing her and moving towards the livingroom.

"I’ll call you a cab. Wish I could drive you home, pet."

"Maybe later, when everything’s sorted out." The distinctive ringtone of her cell sounded and she looked around. "That’s my cell. Where did I leave it?"

"Top of the dresser," he called back over his shoulder.

It was Dawn.

"Dawnie? What’s wrong?"

"Angel’s here." Dawn’s voice was hurried and urgent and a little muffled as if she had a hand cupped around both her mouth and the phone. "Xander called him last night. I don’t know what Xander told him, but they’re both on the warpath. They want to kill Spike."

"Who is Ang...?"

She stopped as a sudden flash of horrible embarrassment shot through her, shame, guilt, horror, all triggered by...

Oh, God, Angel was here, what would he think about her sleeping with...

But what was wrong with that? Why shouldn’t she be sleeping with...

Memories cascaded—faces, voices, scenes, a dizzying kaleidoscope, all jumbled together. She staggered and fell against the dresser.

She flung out a hand, trying to shut it all out. She didn’t want to remember.

Her mind blanked. Tried to reset itself.

Dawn was still talking. "You’d better get back, Buffy. All the Scoobies are here. I’m calling from the bathroom. Didn’t want them to know I was calling you. I didn’t know what to do..."

"I...I’ll be there, Dawn. I’ll...Give me a minute. I’ll..."

Memories were crashing back. Too many. Too fast. A terrifying confusion slamming at her. She couldn’t shut them out. She dropped the phone, leaned against the dresser, gasping.

No! She couldn’t possibly be sleeping with...

Cascade failure. Her brain whited out.

Reboot.

"Cab’s here," said Spike, coming into the bedroom. Then he stopped short. "Buffy? What’s wrong?"

She jerked away from him as he reached for her.

"Buffy? Are you all right?"

She stared at him, standing there wearing only his jeans. Bare chest, bare feet, his hair mussed... She looked around in horror at the unmade bed, his T-shirt flung on the floor, her top lying on the chair beside the bed, looked down at herself to see that the only thing she was wearing above the waist was her bra.

"You...We...You..."

"Buffy!" he whispered, appalled, as realization dawned.

She hit him.

All her strength went into the blow. It threw him back against the wall behind him. He struck it, then lost his footing and fell.

There was a stake lying among the clutter of things on the top of the dresser. She snatched it up and was on him in a second, the stake slashing down in blind rage.

He didn’t resist. He just lay there, his hands flung out on the floor, looking up at her. It was that lack of resistance that stopped her. That and the pain in his eyes—the terrible depth of pain, the utter desolation.

She looked down at the bead of blood welling up where the point of the stake bit into the flesh over his heart.

"I should kill you," she hissed.

He just looked at her, his eyes wide and dark.

"Do it," he said.

She almost did. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know why. She flung the stake away from her in a fury, then shot to her feet, snatched her top from the chair and ran into the livingroom, pulling it on.

She would have run out of the house barefoot, she was that desperate to get out of there, but then she saw her shoes lying on the carpet near the front door. She stamped into them and ran out to where the cab waited at the curb.

All the Scoobies were at Revello Drive when she got there. Plus Dawn, Giles and...Angel. They leaped to their feet as she slammed into the house.

"Buffy, are you all right?" a chorus of voices demanded.

"Just peachy," she snarled. "Will someone give me some money for the cab?"

"I’ll pay him," said Giles and went out to do so.

"You’ve got your memory back," said Tara and Buffy gave her a twisted smile.

"You always know, don’t you, Tara. Makes things easier. For what it’s worth, yeah, I’ve got it back. But there seem to be some important things that I’m missing."

"What do you remember?" Willow asked worriedly.

"Everything up to falling into the portal. Then nothing until I woke up in Spike’s bedroom ten minutes ago."

"Did he...?" Angel sniffed the air, then developed a thunderous scowl.

"Oh, yeah," she said through her teeth.

"He took advantage of you," Xander snarled. "Tell me you staked him!"

"No. I didn’t."

"Why not? Why the hell not? He deserves to be staked for what he did to you!"

"I don’t know!" She flung up her hands and pressed them desperately to her aching head. "Still trying to get my brain sorted out."

"I’ll kill him," Angel growled. He yanked his coat over his head and ran out to where his car was parked at the curb. "Xander!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Right with you!" Xander yelled back gleefully and ran after him, heading for the driver’s side of the car. "Giles, come with us!"

"Go do that," muttered Buffy and slammed the door after them. "What?" she asked as she turned and saw the dismayed looks on the faces of the four girls behind her.

"They won’t stop until they find him and stake him," Tara said.

"Yeah, so?"

Dawn looked at her for a moment, then turned, ran up the stairs into her room and slammed the door behind her.

"What’s wrong with Dawn?" asked Buffy, somewhat startled.

"She doesn’t think it’s Spike’s fault," explained Anya.

"Nothing is Spike’s fault if you listen to Dawn," Buffy muttered. "How long has it been since I fell through the portal?"

"A couple of weeks," said Willow.

"You mean I’ve been doing the nasty with Spike for a couple of weeks?"

"We don’t really know whether...I mean, maybe you didn’t," Willow stuttered, flushing vividly. "We can’t be all that certain. And you don’t really remember, do you? So maybe..."

"I wake up half naked in a guy’s bedroom and I’m supposed to think nothing happened? I’m sore, okay? The kind of sore that comes from a really long sex marathon. So, yeah, I’m pretty sure."

"Must have got a lot of good orgasms out of it, so I really don’t see what’s so wrong with that," muttered Anya and Buffy glared at her.

"Do you think I’d sleep with Spike if I were in my right mind?"

"I would," shrugged Anya.

"I had amnesia and he knew it. He took advantage of me." Buffy flung herself onto the couch and hit a cushion viciously. "I hope Angel finds him. I hope Angel kills him."

"Buffy," said Tara very quietly and seriously. "Spike loves you."

"Vampires can’t love," Buffy said flatly.



TBC