Title: Choices
Author: Whitewolf
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Everybody has to deal with repercussions. Sequel to Second Chance
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: Up to 'Who are You?'

---

 

 Choices
 

"Welcome, lower being." a female voice greeted from somewhere nearby. Spike stared for a moment at the two figures standing before him, both clothed in robes, their bronzed bodies decorated with strange blue patterns. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the pillars to either side of the duo standing before him, the unearthly quality of the scenery, feeling as though he'd just stepped into some alternate dimension.

"Who are you and where are we?" he asked, staying put, and keeping his voice neutral. His body tensed instinctively, unsure if he should be excepting an attack or not, but until he had a better idea of what he was up against, he refrained from lashing out blindly. As much as he hated waiting around for someone else to make the first move, he was getting the distinct impression that he was way out of his league with these two seemingly passive beings.

"Irrelevant." the male stated simply.

"You have been chosen, and the time will soon come when you will have to choose whether to accept this, or reject it." the female continued on.

The whole conversation was passing completely over Spike's head as he struggled between trying to understand the implications and figuring out how it was that he'd wound up here in the first place. He frowned, recalling briefly the sensation of burning that had engulfed his entire being just before he'd... he looked around with renewed curiosity. If this was Hell, it wasn't looking so bad...

The female nodded her head at him then, and before he could get a single word in, a small, folded piece of paper appeared in front of him, hanging suspended in the air in front of his nose.

"When the time is come, you will know. Until then, prepare." the male informed him, as if the meaning of his words and the entire preceding conversation had been perfectly clear. "But be warned, you will be presented with only one opportunity. Choose wisely." the female added, as both figures turned to leave, the male waving his arm in an almost bored fashion.

Frowning Spike reached out and retrieved the levitated paper, glancing curiously it. He was about to ask what he was supposed to do with it when he suddenly realized that they were no longer there. Or, more acurately, he was no longer there - wherever there had been. Instead, he found himself lying on his back, gazing up into the tear-stained face of an angel. He grinned with amusement, someone somewhere must've screwed up big time if they'd sent him to heaven...

"Spike! You're okay!" the angel exclaimed with relief, giving him a tight squeeze. He chuckled, completely clueless as to why his angel was so relieved with this news. Catching a brief whiff of her scent as she bent forwards crying into his chest, he wondered why she smelled so familiar... "You stupid, vampire idiot!" the now annoyed voice screamed at him, her words muffled slightly by her proximity to him. He frowned, angels weren't supposed to get mad like that, were they? "You better keep your word, or I am so gonna enjoy staking your pathetic butt!" she continued, pounding her fists on him.

That voice... those words... with a yelp, Spike shot to his feet and looked around. The sun - there was sun - he looked down and patted himself down incredulously - sun plus vampire equalled dust - if he was dust, he shouldn't be feeling panic, he shouldn't be feeling confusion - he shouldn't be feeling anything...

He was tackled back down to the ground before his mind could even finish piecing together what had happened - what was* happening, and small, powerful blows began raining down upon him. "I hate you! I so hate you!" Buffy screamed angrily, her blows quickly losing strength as another sob escaped, "Don't you ever even think of pulling a stunt like that again!" On whim Spike chose not to think about, he found himself wrapping his arms around her, and holding her to him firmly, as the memories of what had just transpired between them hit him full force. Had he imagined hearing the Slayer admit to lo- to having non- hate feelings for him? From her reaction just now he'd have to say no, but realistically...

Sitting them up, and pulling them back to their feet, Spike half-led, half-carried the young body in his arms back towards the mansion. His memories regarding what exactly had transpired between them just before he'd passed out may have been a little foggy, but he did remember promising to stay and continue helping her friends if he hadn't combusted by sunrise. -And he was definitely not a cloud of dissipating ash and dust... not yet anyway.

Idly, he wondered if the Slayer had known he wouldn't burn, if she'd tricked him somehow into making a promise he might not have otherwise made. In the end though, it didn't really matter, she'd taken the choice from him by forcing him into this deal - and he really needed some time to figure out where he wanted to go from here.

He'd keep his word, stay with the little slaying group, get his thoughts and emotions straightened out, then... then, he'd have some decisions to make. But for now, both he and Buffy needed some rest from the physical and emotional ordeal they'd just gotten through.

* * * * * * * * * *

Willow stopped outside the closed door to the room she shared with Buffy and silently crossed her fingers and whispered a hopeful prayer to the goddess. No need to panic - so Buffy hadn't made it back to Giles' last night - maybe she'd run into a few vamps on the way back, gotten scuffed up a bit, and needed to return here for a change - yeah, and it was already getting late, plus given the bile incident, the blond Slayer had been forced to live in the same clothes for over twenty-four hours; she'd probably gone straight for the shower, then changed, then flopped down on the bed exhausted. -Oh, and in all the excitement, she'd fallen asleep and forgotten to call Giles to let everyone know that she was still alive and healthy. Yeah.

Hand around the doorknob, Willow paused again, the conviction of her mental pep talk dwindling as she realized that she wasn't feeling any recent traces of her friend's presence.

Swallowing hard, she turned the handle and pushed the door open, her eyes closed. Buffy was here, she was sleeping in because of how tired she was, in fact she was in those fluffy bunny pajamas, lying on her back, one arm tossed over her eyes, the alarm clock in itsy-bitsy tiny pieces scattered on the floor -

Willow opened her eyes slowly, willing the image in her mind to greet her reluctant gaze and solidify itself into a reality.

The room was empty.

An all too familiar knot of fear and dread settled itself in the pit of the wicca's stomach.

Both beds were made, both appearing unslept in, the alarm clock was right where it was supposed to be - and in one piece, Buffy's side of the room looked completely untouched...

That was okay... everything was still okay... Buffy had just gotten up and left already - in fact the two young women had probably crossed paths; Willow heading for the campus, as Buffy was heading for Giles. In fact, realizing that her friends were probably beginning to worry, Buffy probably hadn't even changed, she'd just jumped out of bed - er, made the bed - then run out real fast...

Biting her lip, Willow slumped over onto the edge of her bed, her mind turning over one rationalization after the other; Buffy, after all, was not dead. She couldn't be dead. She was the unstoppable, unbeatable, undefeatable, Slaymaster.

The phone rang, it's loud shrill in the silent room startling Willow out of her thoughts, and sending her stomach lurching up to her chest. Oh good, Buffy was calling to let everyone know how cool everything still was.

"Buffy?" Willow answered immediately after the first ring. Some typically whackey hellmouth occurrence had cropped up last night - Buffy was calling from a motel, or-or another dimension she'd been shunted over to...

"Um, it's Amy." the voice on the other end corrected with soft, uncomfortable reluctance.

*Uh oh, not a good tone of voice there*, Willow recognized immediately, a silent mantra starting up in her head *Don't give me bad news, can't handle bad news right now...* "Sorry," Willow murmured, fighting to keep the disappointment from her voice, "So what's up?" 8Please don't tell me bad news about Buffy, please don't tell me bad news about Buffy...*

Amy and Tara had agreed to do a quick walk-through of the park, when Giles suggested that Willow try the dorm as morning came with still no word from their Slayer. The sudden mild earthshaking that had rumbled in the early pre-dawn morning hadn't done much to appease anyone's fears either. But the Earth was still turning, the sky was still blue, the sun was still shining, and no gigantic hellmouth beast was breathing fire or slime all over the town, so the group had hoped for the best and set out.

"It's about Buffy..." the other witch started, Willow closed her eyes, *She's *not* dead, she's *not* dead...* "Now, we didn't find her... you know... body - but we did find her knife." There was a brief pause as Willow let the words sink in. *No body.* No body meant that Buffy was still alive - cause baddies who kidnapped the Slayer always died, and Buffy always came back...

"Oh." Willow intoned, trying rally her optimism, "Well that's good then. That you didn't find a body. That means our Buffster is probably kicking the gajeebers out of some evil, nasty demon."

"Yeah." Amy agreed, unconvinced.

"Right. So I'll just head back so we can... figure out what to do next." Willow decided, saying her goodbyes and hanging up. Things were still good, Buffy was still maybe- alive...

Besides, Xander hadn't called in yet, and he and Anya had gone to check out the Hellmouth itself. They'd probably find nothing but a bunch of dead demons, and Buffy holding a mini-party for her success in stopping yet another catastrophe... cause, obviously something hellmouthy had happened last night - but everything was still good today so that could only mean success. Yep, the forces of good had another notch to add to their growing collection, and Buffy was still just fine and dandy.

Feeling slightly mollified, Willow left the room, closing the door behind her as she pushed the all too familiar feelings of worry and dread for her friend's safety to the back of her mind.

It seemed as if the longer her friend defied the odds, the quicker she was to jump to depressing conclusions in the face of uncertainty. How much longer did Buffy really have, after all? At twenty-two she was really pushing the Slayer envelope... *No. No negative thoughts. Buffy's fine. Buffy's alive. Buffy's a survivor...*

* * * * * * * * * *

Angel stared silently at his bed, hesitating for one brief moment before giving in to his weariness and slipping under the covers. He'd pulled Wesley aside before making his way back down here, not wanting to cause Cordelia undo alarm, and had tried explaining the strange episode he'd just experienced. Wesley had promised to look into the cause of death, and identity, of the body Angel had stumbled across in the alley, leaving Angel to return to bed.

Closing his eyes and rolling onto his side, an image of the unfamiliar young woman flashed through his mind yet again. He was dancing with her, seductively suggesting they go someplace quieter, slowly leading her towards the side exit. She favoured him with a seductive grin of her own as she allowed herself to be led into the cooler, crisp night air, immediately finding his lips with hers as the door clicked shut behind them.

He ran his hands through her shoulder-length locks, then grabbed a firm hold of her head, a lust of a completely different nature taking over as he drew away from her lips and lowered his head to the delicate length of her neck.

She moaned against him at first as he gnawed on her skin with his blunt teeth, slowly turning them around until she was trapped between his body and the side wall of the building. Then she tensed in his arms as he let his fangs descend...

Angel's eyes flew open as he scrambled to sit up. That couldn't have happened... the demon couldn't possibly have gotten loose - taken control like that... it just wasn't possible, and yet...

Lying back down, he closed his eyes once again, needing to know for certain what had happened. Her blood was filling his mouth, the glorious taste of the long denied sustenance causing him to barely notice her weak and useless struggles against him. But the satisfaction of the feeding began dissipating even as he swallowed his first mouthful - a feeling of silent horror and guilt replacing it and causing him to pull away in disgust.

Confusion flooded through him as he watched himself fling the injured mortal across the alley and into the wall of the neighbouring building. His vision vision was gradually becoming more blurred and dim. From the corner of his eye he saw movement coming from deeper down the darkened alley, his brain instantly telling him that there were other vampires nearby. His vision was failing fast though, and without a second glance at the terrified figure frozen in place against the far wall, desperately clutching her wounded neck, he turned his back on her and re-entered the bar, barely making it to the nearest stool before everything went completely black.

Frowning, as he forced himself to replay that last scene over again, Angel realized something else suddenly... his demon wasn't there, rubbing in his face his loss of control and attack on that innocent, unsuspecting mortal... in fact his demon had been uncharacteristically silent and... dormant... ever since Angel had left that bar several hours ago.

That in itself was suspicious, especially since Angel could usually feel it fighting against him, just under the surface, constantly urging and tempting him to just give in to the darker calling of his nature.

As if on cue he felt his demon rear against him, reminding him all too vividly of the sensuous taste of the young woman's blood. No matter what he tried convincing himself of, pig's blood - animal blood - just wasn't the same. Aside from being cold and lifeless, it lacked that sweet tinge of terror and adrenalin that fresh human blood held. It denied him of the violence, the resistence, the fear and the death that accompanied the overpowering of a delectable human prey...

Pushing the familiar taunts and cravings from his mind, he finally succumbed to sleep, hoping that this time he'd wake up in bed, and not a couple blocks away with no memory of how he'd gotten there.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy blinked her eyes open and stared at the intense blue eyes focused on her. With a small yelp of surprise, she tried jerking herself away from the body she was pressed lightly against, only to feel herself being rather securely held in place by a strong arm wrapped around her waist, and an equally strong hand pressed flat against the small of her back.

"Spike..." she warned, trying to ignore the pleasant tingles working their way through her body. Then the memories of the last few hours before she'd succumbed to sleep replayed themselves through her mind with vivid clarity.

She bit her lip as she recalled voicing a confession she'd previously vowed never to acknowledge. Did Spike even remember? She searched his eyes with hers, trying to read him, trying to determine if their somewhat intimate positioning was accidental or not, if it was teasing or not.

"Was this a one night stand for us, pet?" Spike's teasing voice filtered through to her as she blinked herself out of her stare. He remembered - at least partially - but was giving her an easy out. Giving them both an easy out.

"I don't do one night stands." she heard herself answer lightly, before leaning forwards to give him a soft peck on the cheek. It wasn't a clear answer to his question, she knew, her voice returning the light tease, her kiss however detracting from the attempt at waving the previous night off. Pretending the words had never slipped out of her mouth wasn't the answer, but dealing with their full implications wasn't exactly foremost on her mind either. What she really needed right now was time. Time to sort out the conflicting emotions that had been doing nothing but building over the last four years she'd worked with Spike.

He nodded at her words and released her, his eyes briefly reflecting confusion, then rolled onto his back on the bed they were sharing and threw his right arm over his eyes. "You might want to call your mates and let them know you're still alive." he murmured, his voice betraying no emotion one way or the other.

The tension between them was almost palpable, and Buffy inwardly groaned at the discomfort of the situation. They definitely had some issues to sort out, but - glancing at her watch, she bolted from the bed in a panic.

"Where's the phone in this place?" she asked frantically, searching the room they were in to no avail. It was nearly 10:00 am, and she still hadn't called anyone to let them know she was alright!

"There's a cell in my duster." Spike's voice answered, unmoving, "Right side."

Nodding, Buffy searched the room, her eyes landing on the said article of clothing which was draped over the back of a chair. She quickly reached for it and jumped back down onto the bed, upturning the correct pocket and watching its contents spill out onto the mattress.

A few loose cigarettes fell out, as well as a handful of loose change, an assortment of monetary bills of various denominations, one small folded piece of paper, and the trusty cell phone. She reached for the phone instantly, powering it up and dialling Giles' number.

He picked up on the first ring, "Xander?" his anxious voice asked.

Buffy grinned slightly, buzzing an error tone, "Wrong. You do not win the grand prize. The correct answer was..."

"-Buffy!" Giles interrupted, his relief evident despite his slight exasperation, "Thank goodness, we've been searching everywhere for you. Are you all right? What happened?"

Shaking her head as she absently reached down to count the cash in front of her Buffy sighed tiredly, "It's a long story. Way long. Let's just say the big evil was thwarted and everyone lives happily ever after." she joked half-heartedly, flinching slightly as Spike's left hand reached out to grab her wrist before she could touch the money. "I promise I'll give you all the details later, but right now I'm totally drained - tired, that is - Mr. Pillow invited me for a sleep-over and this is one date I am *not* missing." She glanced suspiciously over at the vampire, who was still lying there with his arm over his eyes, wondering if he was peeking under that arm.

"Er, right..." Giles hesitated, she grinned almost able to see the look of confusion on his face at her declaration. "-and where exactly is this... 'sleep-over'?"

Watching with amusement and curiosity as the peroxide blonde began single handedly returning his cash to his jacket pocket with his left hand, Buffy answered somewhat distractedly, "Oh, the mansion on Crawford street." He still hadn't moved a muscle, other than the hand and arm re-filling his pocket.

"I see..." Giles paused, his tone indicating he did not in fact see or understand why she was there, but was willing to wait, albeit reluctantly, until she was ready to explain later. "-and you're sure you're alright?"

"Yeppers. Good as gold, healthy as a horse..." she quickly snatched up the folded scrap of paper before Spike's searching hand could close around it. "I also found our missing mascot - he's here with me too." Buffy added on impulse, remembering why it was she'd gone out last night in the first place. "We'll both come by later on after we catch up on some much needed beauty rest."

Unfolding the paper, Buffy frowned. It was completely blank. Shrugging to herself as she stifled a yawn, she quietly replaced it into his pocket as well, Spike's previously active arm now limp.

"And Spike, I trust, is also... well?" Giles was asking on the other end. Buffy couldn't stop the small smile forming on her lips. Giles genuinely cared - no matter how hard any of them tried denying it - even Spike himself - they'd all started caring about each other.

"He's just fine. Sleeping like a baby as we speak." Buffy giggled as Spike silently lifted his left hand and flicked her off. She carefully ignored the fact that he was no longer the violence-curbed vampire the group had come to know and trust, and the fact that he hadn't exactly confirmed his intent to stay with them on a strictly helpful basis. "Anyways, I really gotta go, or I'm gonna pass out on you right here and now." This time she didn't bother trying to fight the yawn that spilt from her lips.

"Very well. I'll let the others know that you're safe, and we'll expect you by later this evening?" Giles confirmed.

"Sounds like a plan." Buffy agreed, before saying goodbye and hanging up. She tucked the phone back into Spike's pocket, then tossed the duster back onto the chair where it landed in a heap on the seat.

"I don't think that's how you found it, luv." Spike reprimanded, still not moving.

"Bite me." Buffy mumbled out of habit as she fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes. He was on top of her before she even realized he'd moved, amber eyes staring down at her.

"I just might." he growled, the suddenly playful tone in his voice the only thing keeping her from throwing him off.

She swallowed heavily and plastered a look of fright on her face, diligently ignoring the small tingle of lust working its way through her at his light threat and proximity. "Oh no! Please don't!" she begged sarcastically, her eyes wide with mock fear, "Whatever shall I do? The big bad vampire is threatening t-"

He cut her off with a sudden kiss to her lips. It was a light one, a gentle one, a short one, a completely non-threatening, almost casual one in fact. It was one that sent those tingles straight down to the tips of her toes.

"Shut up and get some sleep, Slayer." he suggested through his fangs, a small smirk on his lips.

She gulped and nodded, her brain frozen by his act, and he rolled back off of her and onto his side, his back facing her as he also stilled and fell silent.

After several minutes of silence had passed, she glanced over at him with confusion. Okay yes, she'd given him a similar peck on his cheek earlier, but *on his cheek* seemed to be the key words there. Inwardly groaning, she realized that whatever relationship they'd had between them before was definitely not going to work anymore.

They teased each other, argued with each other, they'd even found new ways of fighting with each other, but there had always been those unspoken boundaries - the knowledge of how far they could go, how far they could push. Granted, secretly, he might have been harbouring some ultimate intent to kill her, but they had always known where those boundaries were. They had always known that the teasing, in the end, meant nothing.

Now... Buffy shook her head as she closed her eyes, now, she had no idea where they stood with each other. A simple, playful, friendly peck was churning emotions that had never before been inspired by such an act. Boy oh boy, did she have issues she needed to sort out - and soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike had been naughty. Spike had hurt her! Spike had helped that wretched Slayer. Again!

But it didn't matter, he would be punished - and she and Angel would do it together. Her eyes fell shut as she imagined all the painful things her Angel would do to Spike - then maybe her Angel would reward her for being such a good girl and let her play too. Oh, the things she could do to him - she knew how to give Spike the most pleasure from all the years they'd spent together. An evil smile curled her lips - she also knew how to give him the most pain.

Stumbling slightly as she neared her destination, she reached out to the sewer wall beside her for support. The voice in her head laughed at her as she paused to gather her strength. That voice inside her had laughed at her once before too...

Her mind drifted to that night in Prague - the mob - the hurt, and hurt and more hurt. Then she'd woken up in Spike's arms, and he'd promised to make everything all better again... ohh Spike...

Her face rippled and morphed as she growled and pushed herself from the wall and resumed her walk. No more Spike thoughts! Spike had been a very bad boy. Spike would be punished. Spike would suffer greatly for what he'd done. The silent laughter died away as she let her anger take over. Yes, anger was good, anger made the laughing go away... It was afraid of her anger.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike was suffering. Greatly. In fact he couldn't recall the last time he'd felt this... sappy. "Buffy wanted me to tell you that the implant isn't working anymore." he bit out reluctantly.

Giles didn't even bother looking up as he continued fixing his sandwich, "Why?"

The two were alone at the moment, at Giles' place, which Spike had gotten to with no problem, his current sun immunity still holding. No one else had arrived yet, as it was still fairly early in the afternoon, which was basically the reason he'd wanted to come now.

"Probably because the implant isn't working anymore." Spike smirked.

He and Buffy had spoken briefly before he'd left; after he'd woken up to find his hand lying partially in a narrow beam of sunlight streaming in through a small crack in the curtains of the room. Once the initial panic had worn off, he'd soon realized that he hadn't been burning as he should have been, or even feeling warm. Buffy had then all but ripped the curtains from the window, effectively bathing him in very direct sunlight, and after falling off the bed screaming like a ninny, then yelling at her, he'd eventually stood once again and realized that whatever strange immunity he'd been granted was still in effect.

Giles choked on the piece of lettuce he'd just shoved in his mouth, and Spike absently patted the man on the back.

Having briefly discussed what his plans were and after confirming that he'd stay to help for a while at least, he and Buffy had decided - or rather, *Buffy* had decided - that secrets were a bad thing in her life, and he should therefore come clean with the group.

"Not working?" Giles repeated, his right hand dropping the meat he'd been laying on the bread spread out before him in favour of the mayonnaise-covered knife as he quickly backed away from the vampire. "What do you mean not working?"

Talking to Giles alone first had seemed to be a good idea, so, leaving Buffy in bed he'd hiked himself across town like a whipped domesticated pup.

"I mean its been shorted out since my encounter with the fuse box a few nights ago." Spike explained, adding the lettuce to the sandwich and finishing the job abandoned by the wary mortal. He picked it off the counter and placed it on the dish Giles had already pulled from the cupboard and offered the food to the former Watcher.

Giles accepted the dish absently, "Thank you. -You mean you've been running around killing people for the past few nights?"

"No. I wanted to kill Buffy before I touched the rest of you - or anyone else for that matter," Spike replied offhand, popping a leftover piece of lettuce in his mouth, "-the only mortal I've killed at all so far is that Slayer...".

He was pinned back against the fridge with the knife biting into his neck a second later. "What did you do to her?" Giles growled menacingly, anger thick in his voice, his eyes flashing with a darkness that Spike hadn't seen in a souled being in a long time.

"I stabbed the stupid chit in the heart." Spike choked out, "Don't worry, she won't be coming back." He'd heard various stories about that dark-haired Slayer, but he certainly couldn't see why Giles was making such a huge fuss over it. From what he'd heard, this group had fared fairly well against that 'Faith' in the past.

Reaching up to rub his neck as Giles released him, he didn't even see the punch coming, the force of the blow smashing the back of his skull into the hard plastic of the fridge door behind him. His eyes widened as another blow headed his way and he quickly scooted out of the way and into the next room.

"Uh, Giles?" he ducked as a mug came flying towards his head, more than thoroughly confused.

"You killed her?!" Giles roared, launching the knife he still had in his hand. Spike caught it before it imbedded itself in his stomach dropping it to the floor as he was tackled to the floor by the enraged mortal. Blow after blow came raining down him, most of which he managed to block, but his initial surprise and confusion was very quickly giving way to rage at this sudden attack.

Vamping out and growling, Spike threw Giles off and onto the sofa, "You all hated her, I don't see what the bloody problem here is!" Spike yelled, moving in for an attack of his own. "Okay, I killed a mortal - oops - I'm not gonna apologize if that's what you're looking for!"

"Hated her?!" Giles barked out incredulously, reaching for a stake that had been left on the coffee table in front of him. The normally soft spoken mortal shook his head, "I should have seen this coming, I should have known you weren't to be trusted!" Giles charged the oncoming vampire, but Spike was quicker. Before the stake came anywhere near him, he kicked it out Giles' hand, then backhanded the man over the couch and onto the floor.

Following close behind, Spike leapt off the cushions of the couch, landing on his feet in a crouch, straddling the mortal and pinning him to the ground. "Go ahead then," Giles invited, practically offering his neck, "-but so help me, if I have to sell my soul to Satan himself, I will see to it that you pay for what you've done."

Those last words were completely lost on Spike, who, still growling, bent over, fangs bared, until the picture of him trying to explain this whole mess to Buffy later passed through his mind. They'd have that fight to the death for sure then... which for some insane reason wasn't nearly as appealing to him now as it had been only a couple days ago.

With every ounce of control he could muster, he forced his anger-induced hunger back and pulled his human features back in place. "For Buffy." he mumbled, relaxing his grip on said Slayer's mentor. "She'd never forgive me for this." Why exactly that knowledge wasn't feeding his incentive to carry through with the deed was something he did not have the temperament to deal with at the moment. He'd lost his urge to kill Buffy at some point last night, but loving her - *liking* her even - that couldn't possibly be what he was feeling now...

Giles blinked up at him with a combination of confusion and contempt, "But you think she will for killing her?" he spat out balefully.

Backing off slowly, Spike knelt on the floor in front of Giles, his confusion from earlier bubbling back to the surface, "No, I imagine she wouldn't forgive me for killing her either." he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips at the thought.

Giles sat up and looked at him, the hate in his eyes slowly giving way to an equal confusion as well, "She wouldn't?" he asked, "She-she's not dead?"

Spike frowned, "Not when I left. Why?"

Eyes narrowing with suspicion, Giles studied him closely, "You just said she was your first kill since your implant... shorted out."

"I...?" Spike had to laugh as he thought back to what exactly he had said to Giles. "Soddin' dolt, you didn't even let me finish!" he managed to gasp out as he fell to his side on the floor, laughter bubbling out in full force. When he finally managed to calm himself somewhat, he tried finishing what he had been trying to tell the man earlier. "I meant I'd killed that Slayer, Faith, who had shown up to help Dru with some spell that would use the Hellmouth energies to tear Angel's do-good little soul out once and for all."

"Oh." Giles frowned, before a look of embarrassment crossed over his face. "So, Buffy is..."

"Very much alive." Spike nodded, enjoying the way the mortal's ears were turning bright red.

"So then you..."

"Still haven't had a decent kill in over four years." Spike confirmed, a twinge of bitterness dampening out his amusement.

"I see." Giles nodded slowly, before removing the glasses that had miraculously remained on his face during the scuffle. Wiping the lenses with the bottom edge of his shirt, he looked back up at Spike and opened his mouth.

"Already forgotten." Spike conceded, sparing the mortal from having to actually say the words. Getting to his feet he bent back down, offering Giles an arm up. "We'll say you owe me one." he continued, as an afterthought, "Which you can pay me back by letting me stay."

"Stay?" Giles repeated with uncertainty as he stood and put his glasses back on.

Sighing, Spike grabbed one of the chairs and straddled it, then explained, in a slightly edited version, his new deal with Buffy.

*****************

Xander flipped the TV off and fell back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The house was absolutely silent right now, his parents had gone off who knew where for the day, and Anya was still at the University.

She'd actually enrolled as a part-time student, more out sheer boredom than anything else. But she'd found several classes that she'd really enjoyed, and had convinced Willow to hack into the University system and get her enrolled.

So yes, Xander was at home, in the basement, alone, bored out of his skull - and in between jobs. Again. He still couldn't believe it. He flubs one tiny, little thing, and they fire him - well, okay, maybe it wasn't such a tiny little thing... But come on, when they'd told him to look into getting new reading material at the library, how was he supposed to know that X-rated, porn stuff was not one of the options?

Had they specified that they wanted new good-for-a-general-audience stuff? Nooooo. He snickered, despite the situation, as he remembered the look on Beatrice's face when the box of magazines had come in. Shocked, would be putting things mildly. Still, this just meant he'd be hitting the want ads again. There'd been a rather appealing ad for male gigolos - that might not be so bad; spending hours and hours around lovely ladies, ogling to his heart's content, getting paid for it, losing his favourite female ex-demon...

He bit his lip thoughtfully. There was that down side; Anya might be a tad upset with the prospect of having to share his luscious bod with dozens and dozens of other females.

Right. Sex was good right now, hormones were in check, the family jewels were getting quite a bit of attention... scratch the gigolo job.

Rolling over to his stomach, he started reaching for the newspaper he'd discarded earlier when he accidentally knocked the flashlight off the bed and onto the floor. Reaching to pick it up, he made a brief note to himself to get those blood stains washed off fairly soon. He froze. Blood stains. Dead Faith. Call Giles.

Groaning, he scrambled off the bed, and started rooting through the piles of junk and discarded clothes on the lamp stand beside the bed, trying to unearth his phone. How could he be so dumb! He'd completely forgotten to update Giles on the sewer search he and Anya had done that morning.

Granted, it wasn't all his fault. After finding the sewer section over the hellmouth, he and Anya had stumbled upon that little chamber that had become Faith's final resting place. He'd been freaked out enough to want to run before whatever had killed the brunette Slayer decided to come after them, Anya had been curious enough to roll the body over and analytically describe the likely cause of death, Xander had freaked and dropped the flashlight, and Anya had come to the realization that they hadn't yet had sex in the sewers.

Despite all his arguments that sewers plus sex did not equal romance, he'd eventually given in, managing only to pull them out of Faith's chamber and into another nearby one. Of course, despite the 'successful orgasms' as Anya had put it, they had both stunk horribly, so upon arriving back at Xander's basement abode, they'd immediately showered - which, needless to say had led to other activities, which had ultimately led to Xander waking up nearly an hour later alone in bed, which had led to thumbing through the newspaper want ads, which had led to boredom, and hence TV watching, which had led to more boredom and the intention of returning to his job search, which had led to dropping the flashlight, which had led to remembering that he'd forgotten to call Giles with his update...

With an exclamation of triumph, he finally found the buried phone and quickly dialled the number. He somehow doubted that sex would be a convincing defence to use against his neglecting to call earlier - maybe he could blame it on a demon, or just another one of those unpredictable Hellmouth happenings.

"Yeah?" the not-Giles voice on the other end picked up.

Xander frowned, Spike? Oh well, "Spike, I need to speak with the G-Man, he around?"

"Yes."

There was a pause - which continued to drag on well past the time that it would have normally taken to get someone. "Can I talk to him?" Xander sighed, with exasperation.

"No."

Rolling his eyes, Xander sat down on the edge of his bed, this was ridiculous, Buffy and Spike were missing - hello, emergency here. "It's really important oh defanged one." Xander intoned, trying to impress upon the vampire the dire situation here.

"He's busy." Spike answered, obviously not about to impressed upon, despite the current circumstances.

"Doing what?" Xander asked with growing impatience, "Tell him it's about Buffy and..." he trailed off. He was talking to Spike. How could he be talking to Spike when Spike was among the missing?

"He's sort of... mending... himself at the moment." Spike continued to refuse.

"Oh. Okay." Xander mumbled, his brain still trying to catch up with itself. "Well, um, maybe I'll leave a message then."

"Shoot."

Brightening, Xander sat up, "You'll never guess what Anya and I found in the sewers this morning."

"Bad smells, rats, human waste, and Faith's body?" Spike asked in a bored tone.

"...and *Faith's body*." Xander finished proudly. "Dead, I mean." After the briefest of pauses, he frowned yet again, realizing that Spike had already said that. "-which is basically, what you said, yeah."

"Giles already knows." Spike informed him, "But I'll tell him you rang."

"There was no sign of Buffy or... um, you... though, but I guess that's cause you're over there right now, and Buffy's...?" Confusion did not even begin to describe what he was feeling right now, and he realized he'd probably already come off sounding a little dumb, so why not go the whole nine yards.

"She's resting at the mansion. She'll be by later." Spike filled him in.

"Okay, cool." Xander nodded. "Um, glad you're all... you know... unliving... still, by the way." he ended, not wanting to sound too unmacho with the statement, but relieved nonetheless that the blonde vampire was actually safe. There were times when he could almost forget that Spike was actually a ruthless killer, and during those times, Xander would find himself actually liking the walking dead guy. Not in any sexually undertoned way, but rather as that friend, that buddy, he hadn't had since Jesse had died.

He hadn't exactly been popular in highschool, he'd never liked Angel, and whatever bonding he might've had a shot at with Oz had been seriously hampered by his indiscretions with Willow. Larry had been gay, Riley he'd trusted only a fraction of inch more than Angel, and that had basically only been because the commando had at least been human, but Spike... It had taken a while, and granted, that chip was playing a big role too - no way he'd trust the totally wild and free version of the vampire - but yeah, at times Spike seemed to be the closest thing to a buddy he had in his life at the moment.

There was a long pause on the other end, and Xander wondered if perhaps he'd said too much. Spike was probably trying hard not to laugh on the other end. That did it - this conversation could not possibly get any worse.

"Thanks." Spike finally answered. "See you later then."

"Yeah, later." Xander agreed with a slight frown as he hung up.

He'd been sort of expecting some kind of sarcastic remark, he supposed, as he fell back down onto his back. Spike always seemed to need the last say in any given conversation, but this had been different - sincere. That was what it had been: sincere.

Shaking his head, Xander reached over his head for the paper and flipped it open as he rolled over onto his side. Okay, major wiggins; Spike was being sincere, something bad had to be coming. Badness on the hellmouth always seemed to be preceded by strangeness, and this was a definite qualifier in the realm of strange.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wesley stared across the crowded room at his 'boss', still trying to figure out what exactly it was that had possessed Angel to want to come here tonight. His observances of the moody two and a half century old vampire tended to indicate a preference for solitude and quiet environments.

Angel was getting neither at the club they had stepped into tonight.

The dark-haired vampire was in fact dancing up a storm with the young ladies, liberally ogling their bouncing bosoms and long slender legs. The half-smile, half-smirk plastered to his face seemed to indicate that he was having the time of his life - or unlife - and was enjoying every minute he was out there. An emotion that was, for obvious reasons, not generally displayed or entertained by the vampire in question.

For goodness sake, if Wesley didn't know better he'd be sorely tempted to say Angelus was out and running around about once again.

But that simply wasn't possible. Despite Angel's slightly erratic behaviour, he 'd steadfastly continued helping 'the weak, needy, and depressingly penniless', as Cordelia had once called them - and Wesley had kept a close vigil over Angel's behaviour, strangely enough at the vampire's own request. It was only Angel's 'off- time' that seemed to have taken a strange turn.

Cordelia had been overjoyed when Angel had begun expressing more of a desire to get out and 'party' earlier that day - and the rather smashing wardrobe their employer had supplied for her before dragging Wesley over to this club had almost enticed her to retract the pay-raise she'd requested a little while ago. Almost.

"Wes, you really have to learn to loosen up a bit," Angel commented, as he approached the bar where the current demon hunter was seated, still leering at one of the females from his entourage, "-we're supposed to be having *fun* tonight, remember?"

"Yes, of course, fun." Wesley nodded unconvincingly, unsure if he should avert his eyes or not, as Angel and the rather exotic dark-haired woman began kissing. Focusing his attention back to the drink he had yet to touch, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fingering the edge of the collar of the black t-shirt Angel had insisted he wear tonight. Black t-shirt, black jeans - Wesley shook his head. He'd given up on those leathers a long time ago, never quite feeling comfortable in them, and, as then, he probably looked quite ridiculous right now - or a lot like Spike...

"Okay you big party-poop, let's go." Angel sighed, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. Wesley looked after him with a frown, then shook his head and stood to follow. Something strange was going on here, but he couldn't quite figure out what - Angel hadn't shown any unusually violent or aggressive tendencies, the murdered girl he'd found the previous night had borne evidence of multiple vampire feedings, not just one - which, along with Angel's own fragmented memories seemed to rule Angel out as her direct killer - and his boss certainly hadn't been killing anyone, or demonstrating any inclination to kill anyone, that Wesley had been able to detect tonight. Perhaps this was all some strange vampiric mid-life crisis.

Shaking his head, Wesley quickened his pace to catch up with the vampire who had become his friend, determined to continue researching. Whatever was going on could be nothing, but if it was...

"So what should we do tomorrow night?" Angel asked, eyeing the various night clubs they passed as they walked down the street to where they had parked. "If you pick, you might actually do something more exciting than your stone-statue impression."

"Um... perhaps an evening in would be a good id-" he started, only to be cut off.

"Fantasy XXX-ploits it is!" Angel exclaimed with an approving nod before plastering him with a look of fake shock, "I had no idea you were such a closet pervert! Congratulations! There's hope for you yet."

Swallowing heavily and nearly choking as Angel gave him a solid shoulder clap that threatened to send him flying off the sidewalk, Wesley looked over at the vampire beside him, trying to judge how serious he was. There was no way he would join Angel for a night of ogling naked women, and engaging in acts of wanton sex... he had to draw the line somewhere.

Angel gave him an amused look then and raised an eyebrow, "You have seen it all before, right?"

"I-I... of course I-I..." Wesley stammered uncomfortably, refusing to meet Angel's questioning gaze.

"You haven't had you?" Angel shook his head in surprise. "Geez Wes, you grow up in a monastery? I know London has their share of sex shops - heck, Europe probably runs a close second to Asia in the whole sex industry."

Not really wanting to think about how or why Angel might know this, Wesley cleared his throat and changed the subject, "The case we're working on, I thought we were planning a stake-out for tomorrow night."

"Yeah, for a few hours." Angel nodded, still giving him an incredulous look, "-but most of these places are all-nighters." the vampire continued, refusing to let the former Watcher off the hook that easily.

Wesley closed his eyes and groaned inwardly as he got into the passenger side of the car. He'd been raised to hold a high degree of respect for the opposite sex, which he knew many would probably consider chauvinistic and old-fashioned, and he'd already been quite corrupted since his arrival in America, but he was definitely drawing the line with strip clubs and whore houses. Maybe he could let Angel out on his own for one night and get some more research done. What could possibly go wrong in one night?

* * * * * * * * * *

Cordelia hung up the phone and sat in fearful dread, her eyes alternatively sweeping from the cargo lift, to the office entrance, to the stairs leading down to the basement. Angelus might be back? No. No, that couldn't be right. She'd seen Angel the past couple of nights - and days - and it was definitely *not* Angelus looking back at her. Wesley had even spent most of the previous night clubbing with the dark-haired vampire, and from what she'd heard, no innocent blood had been spilled.

No. She knew Angelus. She'd been right there each and every time his soul had fled - Angelus would not have bothered refraining from killing the street punk they'd ambushed to question about that Cole Somethingorother, that they were currently tailing for Kate. Angelus would have grabbed the knife that the moron kid had produced and started slicing the young teen into unidentifiable shreds, not keep his cool, toss the knife aside and attack the youth's sense of wrong and right.

Angelus would not have bought her a new designer's dress when she'd complained that she'd had nothing to wear to the party she'd been invited to for the following day. Angelus would have grabbed her by the throat and drained her dry as a solution to a fashion problem she was having.

Okay, yeah, maybe her boss hadn't quite been his usual moody and broody self lately, but that didn't automatically mean...

"Ah, Cordelia," Wesley greeted, entering the office with an armload of books. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving me a hand with these." His arms full, he was also pushing box full of books through the door with his feet.

Rolling her eyes she reluctantly stood and made her way around the desk towards him. "You couldn't have just FedEx-ed them?" she grumbled, grabbing the books in his arms. "-and geez, what's with all the books? I think I'd remember if I'd just had a vision or something."

"The books?" Wesley hesitated for a moment, looking for all the world as if he'd just been caught shoplifting. "Ah yes, well, ah, since Angel - our boss-"

"I think I know who he is." Cordelia interrupted, before the Englishman could distract her by going off on a strange tangent, "Just give it to me straight."

"Er, well, he asked me to do a bit of research..."

"He asked you?" Cordelia asked, insulted. What was she? Decoration? Sure there was a time in her early years with him when she had been significantly less of a contributor to his little agency, but after realizing that acting just wasn't in her cards, she'd come a long way.

There wasn't a single file out of order in the office anymore, business affaires were all meticulously sorted, filed and organized, she made sure that Angel and Wesley both had their supplies of coffee, tea and random goodies stockpiled - half the time she was even the one who kept Angel's fridge downstairs stalked with blood; her fighting skills had improved immeasurably, and strangely enough, her acting was dead on convincing if it was needed for a case.

This was all aside from having to endure bone-crunching, mind-burning, skull-splitting headaches every time the Powers That Be decided some evil out there needed Angel's specific attention.

Wesley shuffled uncomfortably and apologetically, "Well, it really didn't seem to be very..."

"-important?" Cordelia asked with an upraised brow before dropping the armload of books she had relieved him of onto to the floor and storming back to her desk.

"I was going to say: appropriate." Wesley finished with embarrassment, "We didn't want to cause you undo alarm when we weren't even sure oursel-"

"You know what? Save it." Cordelia interrupted, both angry and hurt. Okay, so maybe they thought they'd handle things on their own until they were sure there was a problem, but they were supposed to be a team when it came to stuff like this. "By the way, Buffy just called. Apparently, our Sunnydale cohorts have learned that Angelus might be freed sometime soon, if not already." she informed him. "I told her that he still seemed soul-having, but she told me to let you know. We probably shouldn't let the big guy know just yet though, cause..." she trailed off as she took in the increasingly guilty look on the former Watcher's face, and crossed her arms. "Well, I guess that was just a waste of my breath." she commented, sitting down and busying herself with sorting through the few loose papers on her desk.

"Cordelia..." Wesley started, approaching her desk. She held up a hand, stopping him, "Obviously you two men - or man and unman - have things well under control on your own." she informed him coolly, "So, I'll just leave the big not important stuff in your capable hands, and get out of your hair."

Standing she grabbed her purse, glaring daggers at him when he opened his mouth to speak once again. "-and by the way, I really appreciate the warning you were so kind enough not to share with me, even after seeing Angelus in all his glory yourself not so long ago." she finished off, turning on her heel and leaving.

Ignoring his calls for her to return, she strode out purposefully into the late evening bustle, and started for home. She could not believe the gall of those two. Granted, this wasn't the first time they'd left her out of the loop until they'd confirmed whatever danger it was that needed taking care of - and normally she might even appreciate having the opportunity to actually enjoy a somewhat normal social life during that time - but this was Angel they were dealing with right now. A friend. -And it had to be fairly serious for Buffy to call her. The two had barely spoken at all since she and Angel had left Sunnydale after graduation. In fact, it was only on the rarest occasion that they tended even to get official word from the happenings in Sunnydale. Not that Cordelia minded all that much, there was nothing left tying her to that small demon-infested town - in fact she didn't even like most of the people she'd left there.

Which was why the phone call had bothered her all the more. No matter how much she may dislike Buffy, she knew that the Slayer would not call about Angel - especially with a message such as the one she'd just delivered - if it wasn't a genuine concern.

She made her way home in a daze, not even realizing she'd made it until she became aware of a box of kleenex being hurled in her direction. Screeching in surprise, she batted it out of the way before it hit her and stared through the open door of her apartment into the empty room before her.

"Dennis!" she scolded, picking up the kleenex and heading in. The door closed and locked behind her as her phantom room-mate took the kleenex box from her and replaced it on the lampstand. "A simple 'hello' would have done." she muttered as she set her purse down on the kitchen table and opened the freezer.

'You wouldn't have heard me.' floated up to her from one of the many writing pads scattered throughout the apartment.

Retrieving a microwaveable meal, she rolled her eyes, "You know what I meant."

'Bad day at the office?' scratched itself out on the pad.

Despite her mood, she had to chuckle, he could be such a sweetie sometimes - when he wasn't scaring any potential boyfriend out of the apartment in one of his oh so mature fits of jealousy. "Yeah, sort of." she relented, placing the fettuccini dinner into the microwave to heat it up.

'Stake the vamp?' appeared on the pad as she sat down to wait for her meal.

Again she laughed, "No I didn't stake the boss - and no you can't stake him next time he's over either." she added, not quite sure what he meant by the question. An unhappy face doodled itself on the page. Angel was one of Dennis' longstanding objects of jealousy, despite the fact that she felt no romantic inclination towards him. Too much history - especially with the Angelus side of things, she figured, although she could openly admit to finding him incredibly yummy and gorgeous.

The microwave beeped and before she could get up, the oven was opened and her food came floating over to her. The lid was peeled off and the utensil drawer was opened, a fork soon coming out to join the dinner on the table before her. "Sucking up won't change my mind." Cordelia shook her head as some juice was poured and placed in front of her as well. "Angel stays alive. -Or dead - or undead - or whatever."t; Another unhappy face was doodled on the paper. Cordelia chuckled, her mood already vastly improved.

She doubted she'd ever really find herself a normal boyfriend. Dennis was just to perfect for her, though she'd never tell the ghost that - no need getting whatever passed for his head bigger than it already was.

* * * * * * * * * *

Angel blinked his eyes open the minute the blood hit his mouth, the fact that it was pigs blood he was tasting at the moment was the only thing that was keeping him from stopping himself.

Bag drained, he finally took in his surroundings. He was in his kitchen, in his basement living quarters... he looked down, then chewed on the inside of his lip in confusion; he was also stark naked.

Frowning, the only thing he could remember after ending the stake out with Wesley was finding himself in some dark alley, going in for the kill on some homeless bum. He'd run... his frown deepened... well, obviously he must have run home.

A few more jumbled flashes streaked through his mind of him entering his room, undressing and stumbling into the kitchen, but why he'd done all that remained a mystery. In the back of his mind somewhere, he was pretty sure he could feel his demon laughing though...

Turning around, he was about to toss his spent bag into the garbage when he saw the last person - or vampire, to be more precise - that he'd ever expected to see here. Panicking, his free hand reached beside him for the most convenient cover - the dishtowel - as his eyes searched for signs of any other intruders.

"Dru." he greeted, as normally as he could manage, trying to ignore the fact that he was in a very complete state of undress and standing in front of one of Angelus' two favourite obsessions.

Swallowing, as he worked at keeping his composure he glanced around for some kind of weapon, spotting a wooden spoon on the counter close to his right hand - the one still holding the empty blood bag. He immediately, albeit somewhat irrationally, wished he had a third arm so he could grab the potential weapon.

Dru tilted her head slightly as she studied him, a faraway look in her eyes, "Not my Angel." she frowned, focussing on him again and moving forwards a couple steps. "Something's gone wrong."

Backing himself into the cool fridge behind him with a strangled yelp as Dru shrugged slightly and began hungrily devouring him with her eyes, Angel slowly became aware of two things. First of all, he really didn't have to continue holding the blood bag in his right hand. In fact if he put it down, he'd be able to grab the spoon rather easily. Secondly, at the rate his body was currently reacting to Drusilla's lust-filled gaze, he wouldn't actually have to be holding the dishtowel over himself in a few minutes, thus freeing up his left arm, which could then take the blood bag so his right hand could grab the spoon.

As those two options passed through his mind, Dru began advancing on him, and idly he had found himself wondering why he'd even wanted the spoon to begin with. She vamped out and reached towards him, the sudden change snapping him out of his mental fog. Dropping the blood bag, he grabbed the spoon and smashed it against the edge of the counter, splintering the curved, spoon part off, leaving him with a suitable weapon.

Dru hesitated and drew back, her human face rippling back into place. "Is Angel going to punish me?" she asked innocently, looking at the broken spoon handle in his hand. Angel cringed at the slightly hopeful tone in her voice, and lowered his weapon slightly.

"Dru, what are you doing here?" he asked. She didn't reply, her gaze transfixed on the splintered wood in his hands. "Dru," he tried again, not wanting to think about where his next words were coming from, "-you can't stay here, if you do I'm going to have to... kill you." he paused a moment and she took that opportunity to speak up again.

"I need my Angel's help." she whimpered softly, catching his gaze again. Angel could feel himself starting to slip into those mysterious, dark globes, and quickly averted his eyes. No mind tricks, he silently resolved, shaking his head.

"I-I can't help you Dru." he refused reluctantly. He couldn't. He really couldn't. Killing his own children was something he could prevent himself from doing, more because of the connection he felt with them than anything else, but he could not help them. Not anymore. He'd done more than enough damage in their lives already.

The mixed feelings of guilt, regret and self-hatred over how things had gone with Penn still, even after all these years, hung heavily over him.

Slumping over in defeat, Dru lowered her head. "Mummy used to tell me we had Angels watching over us." she murmured softly. "Do you remember my mummy?"

Angel's heart wrenched at the memories that statement invoked. That had been a deliberate strike, the vampiress may have been insane, but she was not stupid. "Dru, I really think you should leave." he forced out, deciding to take the first step, and moving to walk around her.

She grabbed at him as he passed, and he quickly spun out of her grasp. She had grabbed a light hold of his elbow though, and when he spun, she lost her grip, the momentum of his motion sending her staggering towards the couch, where she stopped and leaned over. Something was wrong. She shouldn't have been that dazed by the small scuffle.

He glanced between her and his bedroom, trying to decide if he should go to her, or get some clothes on. She crumpled to the floor and hugged herself, rocking gently back and forth. He slipped into his bedroom to find his pants.

Pants on, he looked at the spoon handle, then hesitantly left it on the night side table and walked back into the living room and to Drusilla's side. Kneeling down beside her, he gathered her frail form into his arms, pushing all questions as to why he was doing this from his mind.

"What happened, Dru?" he asked softly, as she relaxed against him.

"Spike." Dru murmured, "My Spike."

Angel frowned, perplexed, Spike had done this to Dru? Somehow he couldn't quite picture that - maybe she was saying something had happened to Spike? An irrational wave of worry passed over him. He closed his eyes, what was wrong with him? Yes, okay, Spike and Dru were likely his oldest remaining children, but why did he care? They had been Angelus' family, not his.

"What happened with Spike?" Angel finally managed to ask.

There was a pause, then an emotionless voice answered him, "He chose the awful Slayer over me - just like you did."

**********************

Spike glanced over at the silent passenger beside him as he continued the drive to LA. Xander was starring out through a crack in the blackened window, studiously ignoring the vampire. It figured it would have to be he and the sissy doing this.

The girls had been busy with their finals, Amy had been the best researcher left of those that were available, and Oz would be having the full moon to worry about in a couple nights. That had left Spike and Xander to send off to LA to make sure Angel was still a wuss and, if he wasn't, to help Wesley and Cordelia restrain him until Willow could come over to try doing the curse again.

Unfortunately, the normally chatty young man was still angry over the whole absence of implant hindrance that Buffy had finally shared with everyone while Spike had gone off to retrieve his car.

Sighing to himself, Spike had to wonder why he even cared what the boy thought. During the first hour of the drive, Spike had reasoned that it was the conversing he missed in the tension filled silence. Now, however, he was beginning to wonder.

It wasn't even as if he'd ever liked the gangly youth - he'd said it himself way back when, Xander wasn't even worth his time or energy to bite. Yet now that the two suddenly weren't carrying on their usual inane conversations, Spike actually realized that whatever he had thought of the Harris boy early on, somewhere along the way, as with the Slayer, some dark recess of his - some dark corner of him - had liked the acceptance he'd known over the last few years. Even the acceptance he'd received from Xander.

The hows and whys of this new revelation where driving him batty. He had been thinking things over, and with the Slayer, he could almost rationalize that she'd always been a turn on for him; whether it was watching her fight, fighting her, or fighting with her, their violence had always aroused him, and beyond that even, there was some measure of respect that had developed between them. Even if it weren't for the fighting, she was honestly a beautiful young woman - all the more so, if she wasn't also the one destined to kill him and his kind, but that was another story altogether.

So evolving feelings of hate with her, he was almost beginning to accept. But Xander? They'd hung out sometimes, he supposed, when the girls were off doing whatever it was girls did on 'girls night', but even then, he'd been thinking of the various ways he could kill the mortal, not 'bonding', as Xander had seemed to have done with him.

Spike wasn't blind, he knew that Xander and Oz weren't overly chummy outside of the slaying-related activities; it also didn't take a genius to see that Xander hadn't had a close male friend in quite a while. So, yes, Spike had taken advantage of the boy's subconscious offerings of friendship, deciding that it would make killing the lanky young man all the easier later. After all, Xander had been jumping for the stakes and crosses, or the ropes and chains, that first year Spike had stayed with the group.

Earning Xander's trust was his assurance that he wouldn't meet with a pathetic end because Harris had gotten a lucky shot in with a stake or cross-bow.

"Why didn't you kill us all before Dru 'kidnapped' you?" Xander asked suddenly, breaking the silence, though his gaze remained fixed on the window.

This was the perfect opportunity to insert a good, wholesome, sentimental, soul- gripping lie about how the moral dilemma of the situation had convinced him that he really and truly liked the slayerettes... "I wanted to kill Buffy first - I wanted a fight with her, and she wass otherwise incapacitated." his mouth spewed out instead.

Silently cursing his mouth for ignoring the signals from his brain, he fumed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. That was really going to earn the whelp's trust.

Another spell of silence descended upon them, Spike cursing himself the entire time, cursing himself for not taking the opportunity to indulge in a little white lie that would have certainly eased the current tension in the car, and cursing himself for actually caring one way or the other what the boy thought. He was a vampire, a demon, completely soulless with no desire to ever find himself in possession of one...

"But you really don't want to kill us anymore?" Xander asked again, as Spike was getting off onto the exit ramp.

The 'no' was on the tip of his tongue, when a 'yes' suddenly also started forming. Pursing his lips, Spike actually took a moment to think that statement through and hesitated. If in the end he decided he wanted as far away from Sunnydale as he could possibly get himself, would he want to leave the group dead before he left? The answer surprised him slightly. No.

It wasn't for a lack of wanting to kill - because that he wanted to do in spades - in fact the burning desire to make up for all those lost years was eating him up inside. No matter what he may want, for Buffy, for himself, heck even for Xander or Giles, or Willow... at the end of the day, he was what he was. He did not have that same desire to kill the Slayer or her friends as he once did, but he would eventually start killing again. It was what he did. It was what he was. But when - and there was no 'if' in his mind about that future - so when the call within him became too great, he would leave. Leave, and let the group of mortals that had somehow touched something he hadn't even known existed within him live.

"No, I don't want to kill you anymore." Spike answered, meeting Xander's gaze, slightly surprised that the young man had actually turned to look at him.

Xander nodded, the wall of distrust disintegrating. "Okay, let's go check up on fang face then." he said, rubbing his hands together, "-er, fang face Sr. that is." Xander corrected.

Spike stared at the sudden change the young man's demeanor had taken and chuckled lightly. He'd never understand Xander Harris, but as long as things between them weren't going to be as tension filled as the ride to LA had been, he'd be happy. After all, it might prove useful to have an ally in the Angel-bashing department - so long as the older vampire's soul was still securely in place.

"What say we go stop for a drink before we face the poof?" Spike suggested, as he pulled over into a metered-parking spot.

"Hmm, get good and snookered before having to deal with Deadboy? -Sr, that is?" Xander asked eagerly. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Grinning, the two got out of the car, "Angel's place is just a couple blocks away, we'll hoof it from here, or the high and mighty one will lecture us for the rest of the night on safe drinking practices." Spike drawled, as they headed in.

They took a seat at the bar and ordered their drinks, one soon becoming two, then three, as they both delayed having to move on. Yet another irony, Spike thought as popped the cap from a fresh bottle; send the two that like Angel the least, to help him. He shook his head in incomprehension.

"You know what?" Xander declared out of the blue, his words just beginning to slur, "I like honesty."

Spike raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going to lead. "You do?" he repeated. The alcohol hadn't begun affecting him yet, but he had no doubt that he had a much higher tolerance level than Xander - who, as far as Spike knew, rarely took to much drinking.

"Yep." Xander nodded, before tipping his glass in Spike's direction, spilling some of it's contents as he did so, "-and you were honest tonight. I like that."

"Uh, good." Spike replied, deciding, given the young man's increasingly drunken state to take the slight insult as a compliment. There didn't appear to be any other demons in this particular bar at the moment, so Spike wasn't too worried about his reputation...

"Now with Angel, it was all like: 'are you gonna kill usss?'" he asked this in his regular voice, "'this is the mouth of Hell'." Xander imitated, puffing out his chest and deepening his voice in an exaggerated Angel impression as he answered his own question. Spike chuckled, silently mouthing 'water' to the bartender that had come to refill Xander's glass.

"Or, or, or, teacher-parent night, me'member?" Xander asked, slapping the counter top, "It was like, 'let's see if Spike is really evil - Xander come here.'" again he puffed his chest out and deepened his voice. "'What're we doin' Angel?'" he asked in his normal, slightly slurred voice. "'Never mind - Spike, come feast on Xander-blood.'" by this time, he had the mug in a sloppy imitation of a neck hold, and was motioning for Spike to take a drink. Spike bit his tongue to keep from laughing at the scene before him, "You realize," Xander pointed out in his normal voice again, "-if hadn't yousss sucker punched Angel, he would've me killed, right?" the boy scratched his head and frowned, "-Spike would've killed me if Angel sucker punched me..."

"I don't think the big sap would've really let me bite you." Spike pointed out, trying to recall that night. He remembered the confrontation with his sire just fine, but he'd forgotten that it had been Xander that Angel had used as bait.

"Yeah, you wouldn't have let me bite him!" Xander agreed, then blinked and frowned again. "But then, when we trust him again, he dies." Xander sobbed out sadly, "-in hell, he dies." The look of sadness faded, "-but he kills ya first, so s'okay."

"Right." Spike agreed blindly, quickly losing track of Xander's train of thought, he finished what was left of his own drink, then layed a few bills on the counter. "-and now it's time to face the big ponce."

"Ooh, pounce on the ponce... weee should ponce on the pounce!" Xander exclaimed. Spike nodded gingerly, making a small note not to let the boy have more than one bottle, or less, should he ever try this again.

Xander rose on slightly wobbly feet, and Spike mentally groaned - why was he even thinking of a next time?

Grabbing the mortal's arm to steady him, Spike led them out into the night, and down the street towards Angel Investigations. Glancing at the drunk mortal at his side, he silently wondered if maybe he shouldn't have had a few more drinks himself. Then shook his head. There was actually a good possibility that something had gone wrong with Angel's soul - despite Cordelia's insistences that everything was still normal.

"Pounce and prick." Xander was murmuring, his eyes lighting up as he tapped on Spike's shoulder incessantly, "-oh, oh, oh, prick him. We'll prick on the prick, cause he's a prick, right? A big prick..."

"The biggest one on my side of the life spectrum." Spike agreed dryly.

As they neared the correct building, Spike soon found himself hoping that his sire was indeed still souled. The unsouled version he'd been reunited with six years ago, had definitely had a few issues that hadn't been there pre-curse days. Namely, he was completely psychotic - no trace whatsoever of the relatively cultured and controlled demon he'd been before the gypsies.

This wasn't the Hellmouth after all - he could hope.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy sighed as she flopped down on her bed and covered her face with her hands. One exam done, only three left to go. Only. She groaned.

"Went that well, huh?" Willow asked, turning from the books on her desk to greet her friend.

"It went." Buffy mumbled. "-and my marks are leaving with it too. Off into land of oblivion, never to return again."

"Well, on the bright side, you have three more." Willow spoke up, rising from the desk to sit on her bed across from Buffy.

Buffy removed her hands from her face and glared at the red-head, "How exactly is having three more finals to worry about a 'bright side'?"

Willow shrugged, suddenly looking slightly embarrassed, "It means you have three more chances to do good?" she offered, "-you know, so you can end on a high note."

Shaking her head at Willow's unique brand of logic, Buffy brought her hands back up to her face and groaned, "Yay me." she cheered half-heartedly, her voice muffled by her hands, a small smile playing on her lips despite herself. Leave it to Willow to be able to see that kind of 'bright side'.

"Hey, I have an idea!" Willow exclaimed, standing and rummaging under Buffy's bed. Before the Slayer could muster the courage to ask what that idea might entail, a familiar object was dropped on her stomach.

Looking down at the stake, Buffy raised her eyebrows with interest, then looked up at a triumphantly smiling Willow.

"Slaying always cheers you up." her best friend informed her proudly, "So let's go out there and... slay!"

Sitting up, Buffy grabbed a hold of the stake and started for the door, then caught sight of Willow's open books on the desk and stopped. "Are you sure?" she asked, turning to face her friend, "I'm not dragging you away from..." not wanting to have to say the 's' word, she gestured towards the open books.

Grinning, Willow reached for the books on her desk and slapped them closed, "I'm good." she assured confidently. She murmured a brief protection chant before they left, then linked her arm through Buffy's as the two girls made their way out of the dorm and into the night, giving Buffy an innocent look, "But I do want the full scoop on the you and Spike thing."

Startled, Buffy glanced over at the young witch and feigned confusion, "What me and Spike thing?" she asked, trying to put a look of disgust on her face, "There is no me and Spike thing." She'd told the group that she'd spent the night with Spike, and that Spike was no longer affected by the chip, and that she and Spike had come to a new agreement in which he'd continue keeping his fangs to himself, but nowhere in there had she in any way indicated that she was feeling anything towards their vampire ally.

In response Willow raised a single brow in an I-don't-believe-you look and silently waited. Buffy was determined to hold her ground though, "There is no me and Spike thing." she insisted again.

Rolling her eyes, then nodding towards the side of her neck, Willow shook her head, "And if I told you there was a fresh hickey on your neck that said otherwise?"

Eyes widening in horror, Buffy disentangled her arm from Willow's and immediately searched her neck with her fingers, already feeling the flush working up her cheeks. When had Spike had a chance to...? Since she couldn't recall him getting anywhere near her neck, he must have done it while she'd been sleeping - she was so gonna beat him up when he got back from LA...

"Aha!" Willow exclaimed, pointing at Buffy triumphantly, "See, you and Spike thing!"

Feeling the heat in her cheeks rise even higher, Buffy slowly lowered her arm, "Very sneaky Wills." she scowled.

"So fess up," Willow persisted, "-I want details."

Sighing in defeat, Buffy finally relented, "Just don't tell anyone yet..." she requested reluctantly, "I'm not even sure I know what's going on yet."

She didn't have the faintest clue what she should or would do about the her and Spike thing either. Spike's initial response to her panicked confession hadn't exactly been... encouraging... an 'I love you too', would have been far more reassuring, however unrealistic, than his 'why?'.

Still, there was a very real possibility that he didn't even remember exactly what she'd said. He knew something significant had happened - had changed - between them in those few seconds before the sun cleared the horizon, that much had been obvious in his eyes, but if he couldn't remember what exactly she had whispered just before he'd passed out...

"Buffy, look out!!" Willow's voice called out to her, a second before she was tackled to the ground.

Instinctively snapping into action, she rammed her elbow into her attacker's stomach and scrambled back to her feet. It was only then that she realized she'd just elbowed Willow. Opening her mouth to apologize, she quickly shut it again and dove for the vampires closing in on the two girls.

Without wasting her time or her breath on the three vamps, she did away with them quickly, silently cursing Spike for distracting her so entirely while she was supposed to be focussed on her patrol. She'd lashed out against her best friend instead of the vampires for goodness sake! She'd never done that before - not even when she'd been head over heels obsessed with Angel!

"Oh, Willow!" Buffy gasped, rushing to the red-head's side as their attackers' remains settled to the ground. "I am so sorry... I was just so spaced..."

Rubbing her stomach, Willow managed a weak smile, "S'okay, just remind me conjure a strong wind next time I plan to knock you to the ground."

"No, it's not okay," Buffy shook her head, helping her friend back to her feet, "I could have seriously hurt you..."

"Yeah, but you didn't... still, that protection spell I cast before we left; remind me to do a stronger one next time we go out togther." Willow joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Buffy managed a small, guilty grin and resolutely pushed all Spike-thoughts from her mind, determined not to think about where that unlikely relationship was headed until she was back in her dorm room.

"But don't think this gets you off the hook, I'm still waiting for the uncut, unedited, you and Spike thing." the young witch warned.

Buffy sighed, guilt fuelling her words as she slowly tried explaining the feelings even she couldn't quite sort out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Angel opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, instantly sensing that something was not quite right. He had a series of blank spots in his memories of what had occurred that previous night, and where there weren't blank spots, there were definitely some disturbing false memories.

Something shifted on the mattress to his right, and he stiffened, his gaze still inexplicably transfixed on the ceiling. Those memories of last night... they were false - they had to be... after all, it wasn't like Dru had really come to him... and even if she had, he wouldn't have really given in to her lust-induced seduction...

Fighting for control, he slowly turned his head, determined to see nothing but rumpled sheets and empty space, despite the knowledge he could feel coursing through his veins that he'd find a body... and not just any body... her body...

She was still asleep, looking strangely peaceful and relaxed, much more so than the desperate image of lust, anger and fear that she had been the previous night. No, now she looked much more like the frail, innocent, mortal girl he had spent weeks terrorizing and stalking... unbidden a small smile touched his lips, before a knot of guilt wound up in his chest at the memories, chasing away the brief satisfaction that had irrationally touched him. He turned away from her and sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

What was going on with him? Wesley had assured him that aside from a few slightly abnormal episodes, none of which he could clearly remember, there hadn't appeared to be anything 'Angelus' about him. But something had changed... no matter what Wesley believed, Angel could feel it. That precarious balance that had existed within him, separating the soul from the demon, granting the soul marginal dominance... something had been altered somehow.

Standing, Angel reached for his pants and shirt, casting one last look at the childe still blissfully asleep in his bed and headed for the stairs. Pausing on the first step, he tuned back around, wondering if he shouldn't secure the vampiress down somehow before leaving her alone down here. But she wouldn't be able to do much damage, even left unbound - she was weak... again.

Deciding to just leave her be for now, pushing the questions as to why exactly she'd suddenly appeared in his quarters and why she was so weak from his mind, he trudged up the stairs, certain that no one would have arrived at the office yet and grateful for the solitude and quiet he knew he'd find up there.

He opened the door, only to be met with a stale stench of alcohol, a crossbow pointed at his chest from his office door, and Spike sitting casually on the edge of Cordelia's desk.

Granted, life since moving to LA had never exactly been dull for him, but this was pushing it, especially in his currently confused state.

"Xander, put that thing down before you hurt yourself. Spike, what are you doing here?" he snapped, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his surprise and confusion quickly giving rise to irritation.

Why hadn't someone called ahead to warn him that these two were heading down for a visit? - In fact, why were these two here at all? They both tended to avoid him like the plague whenever he was in Sunnydale. Frowning at the cross-bow that remained carefully trained on him then at the stake Spike was restlessly tapping against his palm, another question surfaced: why were they looking like they were ready to attack him?

Ignoring Xander, Angel studied Spike, trying to get a read of the situation from the younger vampire, but all he saw was a cool, suspicious gaze directed back at him. Surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to try attacking... aside from the fact that Buffy would skin them both, he'd be only too happy to tear them limb from limb if they dared try anything.

His gaze shifted to Xander as his anger rose, how long had he wanted that imbecile dead? Visions of snapping the boy's flimsy neck were soon replaced by trickles of blood dripping down to the floor as the mortal slowly bled to death from the numerous wounds that could be inflicted by the very weapon in his hands.

Xander cast an uncertain glance towards Spike, diverting Angel's attention to the blonde vampire who was now pushing himself away from the desk... yes, Spike, Angel had to bite back a growl of rage there - what kind of vampire would so willingly go against his own as Spike had these last few years? What kind of childe of his would ally himself with that whore of a Slayer...

Blinking in shock at his own thoughts, Angel staggered backwards a step, and looked down, ashamed. His demon liked taunting him, his demon liked twisting his emotions around until he wasn't sure what he wanted or didn't want, his demon liked preying on his pain, his demon was always right there below the surface... but this, this wasn't the way things had been before. It was almost as if the demon's whispers had increased in volume and force.

"Um... Spike?" Xander's voice interrupted Angel's musings. Looking up, he noticed a sudden look of uncertainty on Spike's face as well.

The cross-bow in Xander's hands was still trained on the ensouled vampire, but the young man's attention was not. Reigning in his darker thoughts and emotions, Angel looked back over at Spike.

"I suppose you're here to explain why Dru suddenly showed up on my doorstep last night." he guessed, gauging the younger vampire's reaction. Spike glanced up at him, surprise clearly written across his features. If nothing else, Angel was instantly sure that Spike hadn't known his former love was here.

"Here?" Xander repeated, equally surprised. The young man looked over at Spike again, motioning with the cross-bow towards the lift, "What are we waiting for then? Let's go find out what she did."

"What she did?" Angel asked suspiciously, manoeuvring himself between the advancing boy and the lift. He was beginning to get the distinct impression that they knew something he didn't - and he was willing to bet that it had something to do with the strange episodes he'd been having lately.

Hesitating, and looking slightly guiltily back at Spike, whose gaze was still fixed on Angel, Xander kept his mouth shut.

"No one's going anywhere until someone starts explaining what this is all about." Angel decided aloud after another brief spell of tense silence descended between the three of them.

"Dru... may have tried casting a spell that would lift your curse," Spike finally relented, advancing towards him, "-good-bye soul - without the perfect happiness becoming an issue."

Angel swallowed as the disjointed and fractured memories from his 'black-out' periods suddenly began making sense. But he was still in charge of things here... the demon may be scratching closer to the surface right now, but it didn't have full control either...

"I still have my soul." Angel finally managed to inform them, stepping aside nonetheless to allow them to pass. "How long does it take for the curse to be lifted?"

Spike looked away from him then, as he and Xander entered the lift, Angel following behind them. "We might have a better idea of what's going on if we can figure out just what spell it is exactly that Dru found." The younger vampire finally answered. Angel closed his eyes as the lift began its descent; they didn't know... they didn't even know what Dru had done let alone how successful it would be. A heavy feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy sighed and leaned back in her chair as she realized that she'd been reading the same paragraph for the last fifteen minutes now, and still had no clue what it said.

How was she supposed to get any studying done with the uncertainty of Angel's condition hanging over her head like this... to say nothing of the confusion she was trying to sort with regards to where she and Spike stood with things.

Angel would always have a special place in her heart, she would always love him, she would always care for him, nothing would ever change that - no one would ever change that, she knew that with a certainty. But over the last four years, she'd also come to realize that she could never be with Angel the way she'd once thought they were destined to be.

She'd been young and naive in high school, believing that it must have been fate that would cause her to fall so completely in love with one of her natural enemies - that destiny had dictated that Angel be granted a soul so that he'd be able to love her and protect her like no other ever could. In the arms of a mortal, she was vulnerable, in her arms, any mortal was at risk; but with Angel, he was like a blanket of protection from the rest of the world, with him, she never had to worry about jeopardizing his safety because of her calling. He'd seemed so perfect for her at the time that it had been inevitable that she fall in love with him.

But she'd been blind. Instead of considering the intricacies and nature of his curse, she'd seen it as a blessing; her blessing, and in the end they'd unleashed the demon once again.

Even after Acathala, she'd dared to hope though - fully knowing that their one time together would truly be their only time together, she'd refused to let go of the lifeline he'd become. She'd needed his strength, his support, his love.

It wasn't until he'd left for LA that she'd had a chance to really see that the only destiny that they had was that they would always remain apart. At every turn their love had come with great prices, no matter what they tried, or how hard they tried, one or both, or sometimes outside third and fourth parties, would invariably get hurt somewhere along the way. That wasn't right. If they were really meant to have been together, something somewhere would have gone right for them. Love brought pain, love brought hurt, love brought heart-ache and misery - but not all the time - not at every turn, down every road, around every corner. Yet with them, it hurt to be together, it hurt to be apart, it hurt to see or hear each other, it hurt to remain distant.

Funny how it had taken her until after her failed relationship with Riley to see that though.

Riley.

The reason Angel had left her in the first place.

To have a normal life, to have a normal relationship... what exactly was 'normal' though?

She'd actually looked that word up in a dictionary once, it had said something like: conforming to a standard; regular, usual, typical. She'd laughed.

Did that make her friends abnormal then? She had taken a good look around her after that: her mentor was formerly a part of a secret society the rest of world knew nothing about; her best friend was a blossoming witch; her other best friend had been possessed by a hyena spirit, stalked by more demons than anyone else she'd ever known, and was currently dating an ex-demon; of all possible places on this planet to move to, her mother had chosen the town that was home to an active Hellmouth, her first boyfriend in this town had been a vampire; she was now working closely with two other witches, a werewolf, a former vengeance demon, and a vampire who had spent nearly a year trying to kill her. -and when she really considered Riley's place in her life, taking away the uncertainty of the chemical and genetic alterations and enhancements he'd been subjected to; how normal was dating a guy who was an active member of a military funded secret government project determined to study and attempt controlling demons and various otherworldly elements?

Nothing in her life since first finding out about her calling had been 'normal' if compared to the rest of society at large. So she'd come to the decision that 'normal', for her, ultimately fated her to eventually seek out the super-natural whether as friends or confidants, boyfriends or lovers. 'Normal' in her life was going to school like every young person would, then doing a quick round of the town after dark, slaying the evil out there that demanded her attention and returning home in time to go to bed and rest up for the following day. Angel's 'normal' would never exist for her - not for lack of wanting, but simply because she was the Slayer - because fate had already seen to it that even without her Slayer powers, she'd seen and done and known too much to ever be able to fall into the average Joe-citizen's 'normal' life.

In that light, falling in love with yet another vampire - even a soulless one - suddenly didn't seem like such an oddity. She shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and tried to re-focus on her open textbook and notes.

There were upwards of 6 billion people inhabiting this planet, and about half of them had to be female - which meant that of 3 billion people, she had turned out to be the lucky one slammed with the combined blessings and burdens that came with being the Slayer. To top it all off, of all the Slayers ever born in Slayer history, she was probably the only one to ever fall in love with not one, but two vampires in her short lifetime.

She chuckled lightly at the thought, and the unlikely odds. Maybe she should have majored in math instead of psych.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dru screamed and struggled as Angel continued holding her down to the bed, allowing Xander to secure her tightly with the chains and ropes the older vampire had retrieved earlier. Turning away from the scene, Spike stepped back outside the bedroom, half of him wanting to run to his princess' side to comfort and protect her, the other half just wanting to stomp in there and gag her already.

Closing his eyes as she began sobbing out Angel's name, pleading and begging for her daddy to make her better and strong again, Spike headed for the stairs leading out and quietly slipped into the night air, digging a cigarette from his pocket as he stood beside the building and closed the door to the cries of the vampiress he'd spent the better part of this last century loving.

As he took a deep drag on his smoke and listened to the wail of a siren somewhere off in the distance, a brief feeling of something foreign passed through him. He knew he was the one responsible for her current state of weakness - knowing he didn't have it in him to kill her directly, he had made sure that her wounds would be severe enough that she wouldn't recover to full strength again - but it wasn't regret that he was feeling. Guilt? Not exactly...

With a sigh, he gave up trying to analyze himself, wishing instead that the Slayer were here - what he wouldn't give for a good argument or fight to distract him right now. He smiled, he had to admit, if nothing else, she was fun, challenging, strong, witty, deadly, graceful, beautiful... what was there not to like when...

Shaking his head incredulously, he wondered where that thought had come from. Now he was admitting to liking the Slayer. Great, he'd officially gone completely insane, before he knew it, he'd probably be wishing to shag her senseless too... feel her strong, powerful body beneath him as he showed her new heights of passion, watching her face as he buried his fingers within her folds, bringing her to one frenzied orgasm after another, kissing her full and succulent lips, tasting her, touching her, having her...

With a groan, Spike quickly shook his head, dropping his cigarette butt and crushing it out before leaning back against the cool brick behind him. That did it. He was finished. He actually wanted her. Not just to be here with him, but to be here "with" him. -and not only was she not here... with... him, he was going to be stuck in one small inclosed space with his ex, his soulfull sire, and the his least favourite human of the whole pathetic slaying team, for the rest of the night and the better part of tomorrow.

His unlife really sucked.

Yet, if she really had admitted to lo... to wanting him, in those pre-dawn seconds before he'd lost consciousness... Could they really have a shot at something? He tried picturing that brief moment, when he thought he'd heard that desperate confession, feeling her arms gently cradling him, her hot tears dripping down onto his neck and chest... he was so sure she had told him... Why? Banging his head against the wall, Spike groaned again. He'd asked why. She had admitted to... to... loving him... and he had asked why. What kind of moronic, idiotic reply was 'why'??

Well then, that basically answered his question. He had no shot with her at all. Which, when he thought about it was basically a given anyway, he didn't have a soul, he wouldn't be able to give up hunting forever, he didn't even have an overwhelming desire to help the helpless and protect the innocent, or whatever sappy moto it was that Angel was using these days...

Sighing and straightening once again, he leaned in towards the door, noticing that Drusilla's struggling seemed to have calmed somewhat, and dared to open the door and let himself back in. Unfortunately, he would not be able to hide outside forever.

Xander was flaked out on the sofa by the time he made it back down the stairs, and Angel was putting down coffee like a half-starved fledgling would blood. Spike snorted as he pushed his thoughts of the Slayer to the back of his mind and sat at the table across from his sire.

"I think I can see your already dead liver dying." he commented, as Angel refilled his cup and downed it.

"I think the demon can only surface when I'm on the verge of falling asleep." the older vampire explained, ignoring the sarcastic remark.

Spike raised an eyebrow with amusement, "Ah, so by consuming a human drink that's doing absolutely nothing for you, you think you stand a better chance of staying awake." he nodded sagely.

Angel glared at him from over the rim of his cup, then poured himself another cup. "It's all psychological." he muttered, before falling silent again.

"If you say so." Spike shrugged, "But if you ask me, I think tying you down somewhere good and tight would do a better job of keeping your demonic half in check."

Xander's head popped up over the edge of the sofa then, "Amen to that brother!" he seconded, before falling back down and closing his eyes.

Angel only rolled his eyes and stood to pour more water in his coffee maker.

Buffy hung up the phone, her shoulders slumping as she turned to face Giles.

"I take it they haven't been able to get anything useful from Drusilla." Giles guessed as she plopped herself back into the chair she'd been occupying across from him before the phone had rung.

"No." Buffy sighed, letting her forehead fall to the table. "Spike said they'd keep trying though."

"I'm sure between Angel and Spike, one or the other will eventually succeed in getting something useful out of her." Giles tried reassuring her, inwardly noting how worn out his Slayer seemed to have become lately.

At first, he'd assumed it had been due to the pressures of her finals, but the more he thought about it... the more he thought about that scuffle he'd had with Spike... "Perhaps..." he started into the silence, before hesitating a moment. How on earth could he possibly broach this subject diplomatically? After all, there was a possibility that he'd been reading too much into the situation... "Is there something you haven't told me... about Spike?" he tried instead.

Buffy stiffened slightly - or was that just his imagination... finally she groaned.

"Willow promised not to tell..." he heard her mutter under her breath before raising her head from the table top. "Is there no part of my life that can stay private?" she asked in a louder voice with exasperation.

Still not altogether sure where this was headed - a very large part of him very sure that he did not want to know where it was headed either, Giles looked down into his empty tea cup, "Not when it comes to your safety, no." he answered. Meeting her blank stare, he sighed and took a gamble, inwardly hoping that he had merely jumped to conclusions. "Spike cannot be completely trusted - he can never be - surely you know that." he began, unsure if he should feel satisfied or horrified as Buffy's shoulders slumped with guilt. "Buffy, he is and always will be a killer..."

"Yeah, but..."

"No!" Giles put his foot down firmly, before she could try arguing the vampire's case. "I know he promised to stay and help us, and he's also agreed to refrain from killing - I gave him my blessing for all intents and purposes, so long as he upheld his end of the bargain. But history has shown that there has never been anything good that ever came of human-vampire alliances." He resolutely forced himself not to bring up Angel, knowing that it would only serve to upset Buffy past the point of rationalization, "No matter how hard they try, they cannot give up the call for blood and death." he added in a softer voice.

Buffy stared at him in silence for a moment, wild emotions flying through her eyes before finally asking, "That's what your Watcher books say?"

Having expected an argument, or at the very least and outburst of denial, he sat back - perhaps she had finally matured... "Well, yes." he nodded, he was still silently congratulating her ability to see reason when she burst out laughing. He frowned.

"Of course," she shook her head, "-what else would those books say? 'Our research has shown that not all vampires are Angelus-evil - some actually seem less inclined to violence and prefer long midnight strolls along the beach while sipping pigs blood and contemplating the mysteries of life'?" She stopped laughing as she sat up and gave him a hard look, "Your Watcher books paint one picture, and only one picture." she insisted, "They can only afford to paint that one picture, I'll give them that - but you've said so yourself; I've lasted longer than most, therefore I've seen more than most." she continued, her eyes still boring into his, "Most slayers only last a couple years - they can't afford to play the moral dilemma game while some vamp is going in for the kill - heck, I can't afford that either - but we both know that not all demons are all-out evil, so who's to say all vampires are?"

It took a minute for Giles to find his voice again as he let her words sink in. There was, he had to admit, a certain truth to her words. Slayers had to believe - had to know that vampires were a real threat, a deadly threat, only a threat... how else would they be able go out every night and efficiently do their duty if they were constantly questioning whether they'd run into a 'good' vampire or an 'evil' one?

Shaking his head, Giles brought himself back to the argument, this was a pointless argument anyways, the Council had not made note of any 'good' vampires, and if there were such a thing, as ludicrous as it sounded, they were sparingly few and far between and... "Spike." Giles reminded them both. "Spike - do you remember how he earned that name? - I can assure you he wasn't contemplating the mysteries of life - perhaps the mysteries of ending lives..." Buffy opened her mouth, but he held up a hand stopping her. "That's not even the point. There are degrees of evil out there, I'll grant you that, and perhaps demons, vampires - Spike - are capable of... changing... but what if he can't? Even if he refrains from killing you - from killing us, can you justify the deaths of the other innocent people that he will undoubtedly kill?"

For a moment they both stared at each other defiantly, neither willing to give in. At long last, Buffy reluctantly looked away, her head downcast.

* * * * * * * * * *

Approaching voices, followed by the sound of the lift descending, finally caused the vampire still seated at the kitchen table to open his eyes. Blinking several times to clear the drowsy fog from his mind, he sat up just as the doors clanged open and Cordelia and Wesley emerged.

"...and I can't exactly say; 'hey, come over, we'll talk, you can meet my phantom roommate...'" Cordelia was saying as the pair came into the kitchenette. "...and, Angel! What happened to you? You look like you've been dead for..." she trailed off as she realized where the statement was headed and to whom exactly it was being directed, "...I mean, you look way deader than usual." she amended instead, picking up the coffee pot and giving its contents a sniff.

Why Angel put up with this airhead, he had no idea - and nothing would be more satisfying at the moment than watching her bleed all over big wimpy's carefully maintained floor, but the knowledge that acting out that desire would only serve to banish him back into the far depths of this body's mind stopped him.

"Good morning to you too." he forced out instead, trying to look as 'Angel'-like as possible.

"Morning?" Cordelia laughed, "That passed us by three hours ago. Something you'd be aware of if you hadn't spend the whole time down here in this dark, windowless den you call home." She'd already dumped the contents of the old coffee down the drain and was starting fresh, raising a silent eyebrow towards Wesley who had sat down across from Angelus in the same seat Spike had vacated hours ago in favour of trying his luck with Dru again. Wesley declined the offer for a cup with the shake of his head.

A moan from the sofa cut off whatever Cordelia might have said next. All heads turned in the direction of the sound, and Xander sat up groggily. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he blinked at the group assembled in the kitchen then flopped back down again, "Wake me when the girlfriend-from-hell is gone." he mumbled, earning a small smirk from Angelus. He quickly wiped it off his face though, when he realized that Angel probably wouldn't have been so amused at his mortal assistant's cost.

"I'm sorry," Cordelia smiled sweetly, "I thought she was the one still in Sunnydale."

Xander's head popped back up as he glared at his former girlfriend. "Hey, no dissing Anya. At least she has the excuse of being an ex-demon, what was your excuse?"

"You know," Wesley spoke up, standing and making his way to the fridge in an effort to stop the quibbling. "-I think I'm rather hungry. Left-over... um, blood... anyone?"

Trying not to glare at the gutless mortal, Angelus turned his attention away from the fight he much rather would have been watching.

"Yeah, I could do with a cup." Spike's voice answered as the blonde vampire came into sight and leaned against the doorframe. Cordelia and Wesley both jumped at the sound of his voice and spun around to glare at him.

"What is it with you vampires and the whole skulk in the darkness and freak people out thing?" Cordelia rolled her eyes with annoyance as Wesley recovered and started pulling out one of the blood bags.

"Gee, I have no idea... do you think it could possibly have anything to do with the fact that it's a good lead into the whole grabbing people for dinner thing?" Spike replied with a smirk as he took a seat at the table next to Angelus.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow at the younger vampire as she leaned back against the counter behind her, "Well then what's your excuse Mr. I-can't-'grab-people-for-dinner'- anymore?"

For a moment, it looked like Spike was going to say something in reply, but as he cast a sideways glance towards Angelus, he kept his mouth shut, accepting instead the cup of blood that Wesley had finished heating and was now handing him.

At the reminder of why it was that Spike was making nice with the Slayer and the rest of the mortals, Angelus felt his growing anger towards his childe dampen slightly. Angel's knowledge of how well Spike seemed to be getting along with enemy, combined with the sight of his childe carrying on like he was a part of the mortal slaying group was nearly enough to make Angelus want to stake his former hunting partner on the spot. But under the influence of that chip...

Still, the betrayal Spike had demonstrated with his first alliance with the Slayer would have to be dealt with. There was no Initiative, and no chip, influencing his actions then.

Of course, first Angelus would have to figure out how to remain in driver's seat of things. From the three previous opportunities he'd had to walk free again, he'd learned two valuable things: first, he could not try killing without jeopardizing his control - Angel would rebel unceasingly if he tried fatally attacking a mortal, and inevitably regain control; secondly, because the stupid soul was still there in the body with him, he could still easily fool everyone, apparently Spike included, into believing that he was still 'Angel.'

"I agree, that may be the best plan for now." Wesley was saying. "What do you think Angel?"

Bringing his mind back to the conversation Angelus looked around at the three faces looking at him expectantly. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked.

"You head back to Sunnydale with Spike and loser-boy over there, so it'll be easier for them to help you and watch you for Angelus-signs, and Wesley and I will hold the fort here." Cordelia re-capped.

Inwardly screaming 'no!,' he forced himself instead to nod, his mind trying unsuccessfully to think of a way out of that arrangement. The last thing he needed right now was to find himself dumped in the middle of the 'Scooby gang' and surrounded by stupid little brats who'd be constantly watching him for any erratic behaviour.

"Good. So you leave us your checkbook..." Cordelia started saying as Wesley rolled his eyes and dragged her back towards the lift.

"Have a safe trip Angel," the former Watcher threw over his shoulder as he nudged the young woman in his arms into the lift, "-take as long as you need, we wouldn't want to risk Angelus returning."

"No, we wouldn't want that at all." the dark-haired vampire muttered dryly as the two disappeared.

He continued to sit there fuming with Spike at the table for a minute longer, until Spike finally jarred him out of his thoughts. "What are we going to do with Dru? Leave her here? Bring her with us?"

Dru. He'd forgotten about Dru...

"You and Xander go ahead tonight as soon as it gets dark, I'll take care of Dru, then meet you in Sunnydale later." Angelus decided, a new plan forming.

With Drusilla with him, he just might be able to get around being found out... it would still be tricky, but maybe he'd be able to find a way to rid himself of that soul once and for all, before being discovered. Then it would just be a matter of reclaiming Spike, destroying the copies of the curse, and he'd be back for good.

Leaving Spike, he stood and made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Dru turned her head to look at him, the anger in her eyes dissolving to glee. He strode over to the bed quickly, placing a finger over her lips before she could call out to him.

"Shhhh." he grinned, "This is just our little secret." he informed her seriously. She nodded silently and he removed his finger, replacing it instead with his lips. "I'm gonna need your help soon, Dru." he murmured against her, before sitting up again. "Think you can help me get Spike back and destroy Buffy?"

She frowned up at him and shook her head, "Spike won't come back." she whispered with a trace of sadness.

Now it was Angelus' turn to frown. What did she mean he wouldn't come back? Of course he would come back. The boy might have wandered wayward a bit, but once he was reminded that his proper place was at his sire's side, chip or no chip, he'd return.

"He wants to stay with her." Dru continued, spitting the last word out with distaste. "He chose her over me, even after he was freed."

She couldn't possibly mean... Glancing between the vampiress and the closed door Angelus let her words sink in. Was she saying Spike was 'free' of the influence of the chip? Worse still, that despite that, he was still running around on Buffy's leash? Well... that changed things. Changed things considerably.

Growling softly, Angelus stood, it was all Buffy's fault, this whole mess. She made him feel human every time she looked at her feeble little Angel, and now she was tearing Spike from him too.

"Are we going to punish him?" Dru's quiet voice asked hopefully.

Glaring at her, Angelus nodded, ignoring her eager grin. Oh yeah, Spikey-boy was going to be punished alright, and so was Angel's little lady-love. They'd both pay.

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he looked back over at Dru, grabbing the tip of her chin to make sure he had her full attention. "Everyone's going to be punished," he assured her in a deadly voice, "-but we'll have to be patient first. For now, just remember that you have to keep this all a secret. Got it? A secret." he emphasized, watching as she solemnly nodded.

"I like secrets." she smiled as he released his hold on her and stood.

He gave her one last look before opening the door and leaving the room, satisfied that she would indeed be good to her word. Spike was still in the kitchen, absently staring at the cupboards, obviously caught up himself in some heavy thinking. Angelus glared at the errant vampire, and leaned against the doorframe. He'd been severely disappointed in his childe when he'd returned to find the younger vampire wheelchair- bound because of the Slayer, but the contempt that that had given rise to would have eventually passed. This on the other hand... this was simply unforgivable.

As much as it might pain him to do so, it was time to get rid of the boy - find someone else to fill that void that yearned for a childe, a partner, and possibly one day an equal. Closing his eyes and saying a silent good-bye, he hardened himself against Spike, then softened his features to a more 'Angel-like' countenance and moved to join the blonde at the table.

He had had such hopes for this one... too bad.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy lay in bed, on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She suddenly wished she had've asked Willow to stay after all, instead of letting her best friend and confidante go off to spend the night at Giles to help Amy with the research. Willow's next exam wasn't until the following week now, so the young witch had offered to help Giles and Amy out a little more for the next little while. Unfortunately, Buffy was very desperately in need of someone to talk to.

Giles' words from the previous night were still echoing loudly through her mind, and as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew he was right. There was a chance - a depressingly good chance - that Spikke would eventually succumb to whatever primal urge it was that drew him to blood and violence and death.

He could get off just fine slaying evil with her, and he could survive off the pigs blood, but she'd seen him struggle at times over the last four years with his inability to drain a human. Sometimes it had affected him worse than others, especially for the first little while; they'd be returning from a patrol and he'd spot a lone human walking by them. He'd watch what was once his prey pass them by with a burning hunger and then remain in a crummy mood for nights on end until Buffy finally got fed up and picked a fight with him. She'd beat the crap out of him, he'd fight back uselessly until he nearly drove himself unconscious with the pain radiating through his skull, then he'd be fine for the next little while. He'd been much better the past year and a bit, almost as if he'd relented to the fact that he'd never get to kill again, but now that he knew he could...

A dull ache from her Slayer-sense brought Buffy back to the present and she almost smiled with the recognition that followed - Spike was heading this way... When exactly it was that she'd become sensitive enough to actually distinguish his specific presence, as she could with Angel, she didn't know, but it was strangely comforting to be able to do so.

Closing her eyes as she feigned sleep, she listened as the door to the dorm room opened and someone slipped in. The body moved towards her and sat down on the edge of her bed. Buffy willed herself to focus on her breathing as she always did when he came, knowing that he'd probably be sensitive enough to hear anything abnormal in her reactions. Her heart rate and breathing under control, she focused her senses on what Spike might be doing.

A hand reached out, and familiarly cool fingers brushed across her forehead along her hairline as a small sigh sounded. It took a minute to realize that it hadn't been her who'd sighed.

"What is it you've done to me?" Spike's voice asked her quietly, before he started chuckling softly. Still she refrained from reacting - he'd never spoken to her before - would he keep going?

The bed shifted, and she was so sure that he was going to get up and head for the chair that she couldn't stop the slight gasp that escaped her mouth as he stretched out beside her instead. He froze. She popped one eye open and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He was lying on his side, propping himself up in his elbow, facing her...

"Alright, pet, how long have you been awake?" he asked, not moving to get up but looking a little surprised and embarrassed.

"Um... just now?" Buffy answered, unconsciously licking her lips as she turned onto her side to face him.

They both stared at each other in silence for a minute, silent waves of desire sparking between them. Yet neither made a single move. Finally Spike swallowed and averted his eyes, "I... should probably get going."

Buffy reached out to stop him before he could even sit up though and their eyes locked again. There was a heated desire and a slight hope there that she knew probably mirrored her own, but she suddenly didn't know what she should say or do, Giles' warning and all her common sense still pounding through her skull, despite the longing in her heart that just wanted to yield herself to him here and now.

He looked at her expectantly as he remained where he was, and she suddenly realized she had to do something... say something... unfortunately the only thing other than 'kiss me' that was coursing through her mind was, "Giles doesn't think you can stop killing... is that true?" She couldn't believe she'd just blurted it out like that, and from the way the mood seemed to disintegrate like a combusting vampire, she wished she had've gone with her first thought.

"I don't think I'll last forever like this..." Spike answered, sitting up and staring away from her and out her window, "...but I can still control it for now."

A small cloud of depression overtook her at his confirmation, until another thought struck her, "Yeah, but I won't live forever, so this could still work... right?" she realized with relief, until she thought about what exactly she had just said. She was destined to die earlier than most, and that had suddenly become a good thing? -And what about Spike? As soon as she was dead, he was some other Slayer's problem, so let her enjoy his... calmer... moments?

The look he shot her was unreadable, "This?" he repeated, was that hope in his voice? A touch of anger? A trace of fear? A glimpse at...

Looking away, he stood and headed for the door pausing with his had still on the knob, "This... deal," he emphasized without looking at her, "... will work for a while yet, and I won't stick around if I..." he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, though both knew what he had been going to say. He'd leave if he started feeling an uncontrollable urge to start killing again.

He opened the door and slipped out, before Buffy could get anything else out and she closed her eyes and pounded her fist against her forehead. Right. This 'deal'... what 'this' had she been thinking of?

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike's mind was a whirl as he blindly sat himself down on the park bench on campus less than a block from the Slayer's dorm room. Leaning forward on his elbows, he buried his face in his hands. Stupid. He was so Stupid.

A - he should have just shoved her down and claimed her lips instead of staring at her like some clueless prick who'd never seen a female before let alone kissed one.

B - he should have gotten up and left the second he answered her question about his ability to control his bloodlust.

C - 'This... deal'. Of course this bloody deal! What other 'this' would she have been talking about?? 'This' them? Ha! There was no them, there'd never be a them no matter how much either of them might want it, how much they might want each other, how much they might love each other!

Sitting up again, he shook his head. Love each other? Okay, problem number one: they did not love each other. He loved her, yes, but she - shaking his head yet again, he got up and started pacing, no - she loved him, but.... no....

A hand fell on his shoulder suddenly, and he growled and spun around, then nearly tripped over his own feet. He loved her?

Regaining his balance, he tried to focus on the familiar figure standing in front of him but his mind kept drifting back to Buffy. He... loved her. That couldn't be right, he... respected her. He cared for her... he... damn! He loved her.

The only thought that registered in his brain about the person standing there with him was that he was not a threat. Spike sat back down on the bench behind him in shock. He loved his blood enemy. He loved the Slayer. He loved... Buffy.

He was about ready to jump back to his feet and storm back into her room to vividly demonstrate this newfound piece of knowledge when another thought struck him and left him rooted to place; it was a doomed love. The Slayer had said so herself earlier; she was destined to die young... younger than most humans anyways - and there was no way he'd settle for anything less than forever if he was going to let himself actually love again.

Snorting, he shook his head. Just how exactly was he supposed to not 'let' himself fall in love, when he'd already sped right past the point where he had any control over it at all?

Concentrating, he tried retrieving his hatred for her, tried stirring that familiar contempt, tried picturing the contentment that had once filled him every time he'd envisioned her death at his hands. Too late, he realized his mistake with that last strategy.

Instead of calming him, instead of filling him with glee and satisfaction, an undeniable bubble of fear and horror burst within him as the thousand deaths he'd planned for her replayed themselves before him - only instead of him doing the deed, he was watching helplessly while some other acted them out: Angelus, Dru, nameless/faceless demons of all sorts.

Leaning back on the bench, he let his head fall back until he was gazing sightlessly up at the hazy sky. He was screwed. He was beyond all hope, and he was setting himself up for a huge fall. Again.

Why was it that he always seemed to find the ones he'd never be able to truly have? He'd loved Angelus once; learned from him, admired him, believed them to be inseparable at one time... yet Angelus had left him; quickly, quietly and almost without a trace.

He'd loved Dru too; cared for her, worshipped her, healed her; yet another he'd foolishly believed he'd be with forever... how quickly and thoughtlessly had she turned from him though?

Now here he was doing it again. He was either the unluckiest vampire to ever walk this earth, or the most foolish. A Slayer. He'd fallen in love with a Slayer; not only was she destined to live a short life, she was also *the* enemy of just about every demon around. Him included.

There was no way this would work between them. He didn't want this to work between them - because there was no way he wanted to love her only to lose her before they even started discovering each other. How selfish that may be of him, he didn't rightly care - he was not going to get burned again. If he ignored this love long enough, it was bound to eventually die...

"SPIKE?" a voice called out loudly, giving his shoulders a shake.

Turning to face the individual he'd completely forgotten was even there with him, Spike blinked in surprise as he finally registered the identity of his mystery companion: Angel. Angel who loved Buffy with an undying devotion. Angel who would love Buffy long after she was dead and gone and the human race had completely obliterated their planet and wiped themselves out. Angel who loved Buffy despite the knowledge of the price he'd eventually pay for that love, whether it be the release of Angelus, or her premature death... "How'd you do this, mate?"... Angel who would very happily tear him limb from limb should the older vampire ever catch wind of this insane love Spike was currently entertaining...

"Do what?" Angel asked, interrupting Spike's train of thought once again.

"Do..." Spike shut himself up as he looked up in horror. He'd said something... something he really shouldn't have said aloud in front of the self-designated protector of the Slayer. "Do... this..." Spike stammered, wracking his brain for an acceptable answer. "This... you know... uh, helping Bu-the Slayer...? Like you used to do?"

Angel studied him closely, seemingly peeling right through the weak lie and examining the real question that had been asked. "I fell in love with her." he finally answered, the emotion that that statement should have brought not quite reaching his eyes.

"Right." Spike nodded, standing, "You love her. She loves you. That's all good. The love thing..." He was ready to make a break for it so he could find someplace to re- collect himself when Angel grabbed a hold of his arm.

Again the older vampire stared down at him, and Spike had to force himself not to look away, not give in which would surely demonstrate some measure of guilt and do him in. Instead he forced himself to meet his sire's gaze, daring the dark-haired vampire to find...

"You... you... love her, don't you?" There was shock in the voice, and an underlining venom that promised punishment.

Spike laughed, unable for some reason to actually vocalize the denial that sprung to mind almost immediately. Pulling his arm free from Angel's grasp, he backed himself away, his laughter now bordering on hysteria, before turning and rushing off into the darkness. Oh, he was definitely screwed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Angelus watched as Spike disappeared from sight, his initial rage at the discovery of this latest development giving way to bitter disappointment. He had truly lost his childe. Since his conversation with Dru earlier that day, he'd rationalized that a good beating might better help Spike regain perspective. But now... he shook his head as he turned to gaze at the darkened house that was Buffy's.

She would pay for this. It had to be her - she'd manipulated his souled version into falling in love with her, now she was weaving her disgusting magic on Spike too. Not that that excused Spike for being weak enough to succumb to her siren song... no, Spike was dead to him now, and Buffy...

A dark smile curled his lips as a sudden solution to this problem surfaced. He'd inevitably end up ceding control to Angel again... but the pain and suffering he could put everyone through first would be worth it.

Yes... Spike would pay, Buffy would pay, and Angel would be stuck with the burden of responsibility for it all. The slayerettes would be unable to finish Angel off, knowing that the poor ensouled vampire was not responsible for the actions of the demon, and Angelus would be free to resurface again the minute soul-boy let his guard down.

Whistling a jaunty tune, Angelus casually strolled off the campus. Things were definitely looking good, and when all was said and done he and Dru would figure out a way to banish the soul from this body once and for all.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy walked quickly down the darkened streets, eager to finish her patrol so she could get over to Giles'. She finished her second final earlier that day, and was now clear until the following week, when she and Willow both had their final for 'Advanced Studies in Behaviour Modification'; a course in which both girls had had the privilege of using a very reluctant Spike for most of their research.

Spike.

Groaning, she wished she could just stop thinking about him. If last night was any indication, they obviously weren't going to be going anywhere with whatever it was that seemed to inexplicably exist between them.

On top of that, he still hadn't given any indication that he returned any of her feelings towards him. What if he just wanted to remain slaying partners? Maybe it wasn't even possible for a vampire to love a mortal... let alone a Slayer...

Sighing as she recalled all the many threats they had faced together over the years, Buffy relented to the fact that she'd definitely rather have him at her side on a purely platonic level, then not have him at all because she couldn't seem to keep her hormones and emotions in check.

He wasn't Angel in the least; he never spared her feelings, he never worried over whether she'd hold her own if they'd ever been forced to split up, on occasion he didn't even bother stepping in to help when he thought she'd be able to manage on her own. Granted, he'd hated her with a passion at the time, and probably wouldn't have been shedding many tears if she ever did slip up and find herself on the receiving end of a definite death blow, but he'd never let her down either.

Unlike fighting with Angel, or even Riley, she knew with a certainty that Spike was treating her as an equal on the battlefield. Not someone he needed to protect, not someone he was constantly looking over his shoulder at, not a pretty girl who just happened to be super-strong, fast and deadly.

She never realized how much she liked that until she'd experienced it though. She was after the Slayer, slaying was therefore her job - her "duty" - the one thing she'd truly been born to do. As nice as it was to be loved and cared for and watched over, she was in her element when she was fighting - and the freedom she'd felt fighting beside Spike was one she hadn't ever truly known.

When she was first called, there were times she'd fought alone - but she'd been to unsure of herself, fighting on instinct more than prowess. With her friends, she had to watch over them while fighting and couldn't usually give herself completely to that rhythm and potency that sang in her heart. With Angel and Riley, their feelings of protectiveness and need to prove their worth had also interfered with her discovery of that inner reconciliation between her body and her mind. Only once before had she really felt it, and she'd been so consumed by pain and guilt and betrayal that she'd barely even noticed. That had been when she'd faced off against Angelus during the whole Acathala threat, as he was cruelly pointing out that she was truly alone...

"Buffy!" Speak of the devil...

Slowing and turning around, she watched with mixed feelings as Angel jogged to catch up with her. The pain was never less upon seeing him, but somehow, this time, she felt more at peace than she normally did when they met.

He slowed as he caught up with her, standing there uncomfortably as if he was unsure if he should hug her or just leave his greeting at a hi, and she smiled warmly, opening her arms and moving towards him.

"We were kind of expecting to see you last night." she admitted, lingering perhaps a little longer in his embrace than she needed to.

"Yeah, I had a little run in with someone else last night..." Angel apologized, letting her go and reaching for her hand.

There was something a little off in his voice and demeanor, and a small warning bell went off in the back of Buffy's mind... "Any problems?" she asked worriedly, noticing that her close contact with Angel wasn't for once churning those familiar pangs of pain and love. Could she have managed to fall so in love with Spike that Angel just wasn't affecting her anymore? Not even Riley had been able to accomplish that...

"Not that kind of run in." Angel chuckled softly, a trace of something dark in his voice. Confused, Buffy stopped them and studied him carefully. "I ran into Spike."

An irrational flood of guilt washed over her... could he know? How could he possibly know? She was pretty sure Spike didn't even know... "Oh." she managed to muster, as she looked away and started walking again.

"I know what's going on between you two," he continued as he fell back into stride with her, she closed her eyes - did she have a neon sign on her forehead declaring her feelings towards the blonde vampire? First Willow, then Giles, now Angel... who'd be next? "-and I just wanted you to know that it's okay." he continued on, before she could even open her mouth in denial. She froze and stared up at him. It was okay? "I mean, I know he'll take good care of you... love you like I never cou-will be able to..." he trailed off, his voice tinged with false sincerity.

Her guilt amplified at the tone of his voice, knowing how hard it must have been for him to say that. Then reality reared itself again and a mild annoyance surged through her - it wasn't like she needed his permission to fall in love with someone else, or his stamp of approval. But before it could blossom into anger, something else clicked. He'd said Spike could love her.... he'd bumped into Spike last night... obviously the two had talked... did that mean Spike... no. No, she was just reading into the statement, hearing what she wanted to hear.

"Um, wow." Buffy breathed, trying to calm herself down again, "-thanks for the... blessing?" Angel shrugged slightly and nodded off down the street, looking slightly ill, Buffy caught the hint and continued on, "Well, I'm pretty much done for the night, I was just heading to Giles'..."

Angel nodded, "Yeah, let's get over there and find a way around this soul problem," he agreed. "The soul - my soul - losing control that is."

Leading the way, Buffy continued down the street, when a familiar vampire came staggering out into view before her. Frowning Buffy immediately prepared for a fight, Drusilla smiled past her at Angel... Drusilla, Angel... Turning to ask Angel how Dru had managed to get free when she was supposed to be locked up, Buffy realized too late what the problem was. Angelus was currently in control...


PART THREE


Spike listened with half and ear as the Scooby gang discussed their options. Willow was suggesting Amy venture out to LA and try a truth spell on Drusilla to pry something more useful on the vampiress, since the group still hadn't been able to come up with much on this end. Plus, there was the added uncertainty of what exactly the alteration of the original spellcasting may have resulted in, since it was Faith's blood that had been used, not Buffy's and Dru's blood that had been offered, not Spike's.

Reaching for his smokes, Spike was about to excuse himself, when he realized his carton was empty. Silently cursing, and no longer interested in the discussion occurring between the mortals, he reached into his other pocket, silently hoping he hadn't used up the few extra cigarettes he had stuck in there several weeks ago.

His fingers closed around the familiar object of his search and he smiled with relief as he withdrew it, then frowned slightly as a small folded piece of paper emerged with the smoke. Sticking the unlit cigarette in his mouth, he stared blankly at the paper then unfolded it. There was only one thing written on it, and it only confused him further.

'If a balance has shifted, weight must be removed from the heavier side of the scale, or added to the lighter side.'

Shrugging to himself, he stuffed the piece of nonsense into the empty cigarette carton, and dumped the whole thing into the trash bin before heading for the door. He was reaching down to turn the handle, when Angel came barging in.

"Giles!" the older vampire called out, rushing in and searching the room frantically, "Is Buffy here yet?"

Spike pursed his lips as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth, looked down at it, looked out the door his sire had left open, then looked over at the obviously panicked vampire pacing the floor nervously. With a barely repressed sigh, he re-pocketed his smoke, shut the door and turned around to listen to whatever it was Angel was going to share with them.

"It's Buffy," Angel was saying, "I was supposed to meet her on campus and do a quick patrol with her before coming here, but when I got there she was a no show." Spike tensed slightly at the news, whether it was out of jealously that the Slayer had wanted to meet with Angel, or out of concern that she had obviously not, he wasn't yet sure. "I waited there until just a few minutes ago, then checked out her room - there was no sign of her anywhere... I was hoping she might have come here..."

"She hasn't come by yet," Giles replied, removing his glasses wearily, "-but I've come to learn that she rarely maintains a strict schedule. There is probably no cause for alarm just yet, but still," he looked over at the assembled group, "Oz, why don't you and Willow do a quick sweep of her usual patrol route, Spike, perhaps you and Angel will be able to determine where she might have gotten to if she encountered an unanticipated problem. The rest of us shall continue researching here in case she does show up while you're gone."

Nodding, Spike held the door open as the other three exited, then followed after Angel as they headed in the opposite direction of the two mortals. They made their way through the seedier part of town, Spike watching curiously while Angel made his inquiries. For his part, Spike wasn't overly worried - he knew from experience that there wasn't much the Slayer couldn't handle on her own, and most of the bigger problems the group faced tended not to crop up with such a suddenness. Of course, with everyone so busy trying to figure out exactly what kind of effects to expect from Dru's spell, it was possible that they'd missed a prophecy...

"She still hasn't shown up." Angel informed him tightly, as he exited the phone booth they had stopped at to check in with Giles. Spike glanced at his watch, feeling the smallest tendrils of worry work their way through him at long last. It was well past midnight - if Buffy knew she was going to be going to Giles' she usually didn't like showing up this late... "Come on, let's keep looking."

Nodding, Spike followed Angel blindly as they made their way down empty streets, his senses alert for any trace of the Slayer. He had pretty much decided to ignore his feelings of love for Buffy in the hopes that given time they would eventually go away, but faced with the steadily growing fear that something might have actually happened to her while he hadn't been around to back her up was making those emotions hard to ignore.

He didn't even realize where Angel had led them until he found himself staring at the mansion. Angel started off towards the front door, and Spike stared after him - what did the big prick hope to accomplish here? It was highly doubtful that the Slayer had wound up here of all places... Tensing as suddenly her familiar scent hit his nostrils, he took off after Angel, stopping the older vampire and silently motioning for him to sniff the air. Angel gave him a curt nod, then continued on towards the door, Spike following close behind.

They entered quietly, slipping from room to room, carefully looking out for any sign of activity, but found none.

"I think the place is empty." Angel finally observed as they completed their search of the first floor.

"She's still here though." Spike murmured, glancing up the staircase and towards the upper level. Angel nodded in agreement as Spike started up the stairs.

"So, you've finally fallen in love with her, huh?" Angel commented casually as they reached the top landing.

Spike closed his eyes and kicked open the first door. He'd been hoping Buffy's disappearance might have distracted the big poof from their encounter last night. Obviously not. "Nah, I saw what happened between you two love birds - I'll have none of that thank you."t; Spike answered flippantly as he scanned the empty room and moved towards the next one. Maybe he'd be able to joke his way out of last night's slip...

"She loves you, you know." Angel persisted. Kicking in the next door, Spike kept his back to Angel, refusing to allow his sire the satisfaction of seeing the smile plastered to his face. He thought that was what she had said... he momentarily wondered how Angel had come into that tidbit of knowledge and when, then wondered why there didn't seem to be much jealousy in his voice, then pushed all thoughts from his mind, as he wiped the smile from his face and reminded himself that he'd already decided not to let himself fall into that kind of relationship with the young woman.

"That's nice," Spike muttered, brushing by Angel to get to the next door. "I don't." Hopefully the big ninny would shut up about the Slayer soon. What did it take to end this conversation already? The longer they stayed on this subject, the more likely it was that he'd make another stupid slip.

"Don't, or won't?" Angel's voice followed him as he searched the next room to no avail.

"I won't, because the whole bloody thing will only destroy one or both of us." Spike snapped. Two doors left. Only two doors, behind one of which a healthy and living Slayer would hopefully be found, then he could get away from soul-boy again.

Angel held him back before he could open the next door though, "Come on Spike, she's not going to live forever, we both know it - just say it. Once. Even if she never hears it, admit it to yourself once and for all."

Glaring up at his sire, Spike jerked himself out of Angel's grasp, stared at the closed door before him, then finally sighed and looked back at Angel. "How'd you do it? How'd you go on like this knowing she could die at any moment?"

Angel avoided his gaze, "I left."

Rolling his eyes, Spike kicked in the door, "You left because of the friggin' curse."

"Well yeah, that too I guess." Angel relented, glancing at the empty room over Spike's shoulder.

They moved on to the last door, Spike hesitated. She had to be in there, they'd checked everywhere else... "Say it." Angel urged softly from his side.

"Fine." Spike relented with a shake of his head, "I love her." He glanced over at Angel sideways, "Tell her though, and I'll stake you, consequences be damned."

Angel nodded and stepped aside as Spike reared back to kick the last door in, "It's enough that you've said it." he murmured softly.

Buffy closed her eyes, the only action she was currently capable of, in stunned silence as she heard the words filter through the small radio unit on the floor beside her. Spike loved her. He'd just said it aloud - he loved her! The joy that news should have filled her with was quickly replaced by dread though... Spike had just unknowingly sealed his own fate with those three words.

Angelus had rigged most of the mansion with bugs so that she'd be able to hear every word that was said between the two vampires, he'd also happily informed her that one of either Spike or herself would be dead by the end of the night. If Spike had've denied loving her - if he had've declared his hate for her instead, Angelus would have had him kill her. If, on the other hand Spike admitted to loving her, Angelus would stake him - in front of Buffy, who was currently completely unable to do a single thing to stop it from happening.

The chair she'd been tied to was bolted into the floor, her bindings were all too secure to allow her to break free - even if she could - and the spell Drusilla had cast over her, prevented her from moving a muscle - even to speak - until Spike entered the room. By then it would be too late though.

Only her eyes had remained un-enchanted, Angelus declaring that tonight's 'game' wouldn't be any fun if she was unable to clearly see what would be going on.

Her panic built within her as Spike and Angel stopped talking, and she closed her eyes yet again, trying to wrack her mind for some way out of this. Then it hit her. Part of Angelus' fun in this whole thing was making her sit idly by unable to anything but watch as either Spike killed her, or Angelus killed him.

Her plan might only buy her a few seconds - but with any luck, a few seconds would be enough...

* * * * * * * * * *

Angelus reached into the pocket of his jacket as he gave Spike room to kick in the last door, his hand closing around the wooden stake. The door swung open with a bang as Spike stepped back hesitantly, offering Angelus first crack at getting to Buffy.

A wave of rage passed through him as he shook his head, forcing himself to graciously decline the offer. Had Spike grown so soft that he no longer even had it in him to properly claim a female he wanted?

He'd foolishly allowed his boy one last chance... no childe had ever challenged him quite like Spike had - such a shame that in the end, the fledgling with perhaps the greatest potential had allowed himself to fall so completely. All the others - as Penn had so blatantly demonstrated - had strived to become the terror that Angelus had been, but Spike, Spike had strived to make his own mark, even from the beginning.

Where the others had eagerly adapted Angelus' affinity for marking victims with religious symbols, young William had found a different calling card altogether. Where the others knew immediately to obey their master's commands to the letter, Spike had often added his own creative touch.

Standing back slightly, Angelus watched emotionlessly as Spike entered the room, then froze a look of concern marring his features. Stepping up behind the blonde vampire, Angelus raised his stake, glanced at Buffy and froze himself. Something was wrong. The stupid slut was supposed to be watching...

In his moment of hesitation, Spike had already rushed over to Buffy's side, calling out her name, and slapping her face before moving behind her to undo the ropes. Angelus cursed to himself. He hadn't anticipated Buffy daring not to look when Spike entered - especially after hearing the younger vampire's confession of love.

Quietly slipping from the room, Angelus quickly fled back out of the mansion. Alone, he wasn't prepared to take on both Buffy and Spike...

* * * * * * * * * *

Pulling the first rope free, Spike was taken off guard when Buffy suddenly opened her eyes and turned her head towards him, "We've got to stop Angel!" she implored fervently, glancing over at the empty doorway where the older vampire had been standing only seconds ago.

"Angel?" Spike repeated aloud, wondering where the big moron had gone off too - probably to let Giles know Buffy was safe - but what was Buffy saying? Was whoever had kidnapped her still here? Was this a trap they'd walked into?

Undoing the rope binding her other wrist, Spike fell backwards as she jerked herself free and reached down to pull at the ropes binding her legs. "Angelus is in control right now - I don't think he can kill anyone himself, but we need to get find him before he and Drusilla cook up anymore unpleasant surprises for us." She continued explaining as Spike listened on with growing confusion.

Angel had been Angelus? Since when? For how long? Why hadn't he noticed?

"Quick, give me you cell." Buffy ordered as she stood and rubbed her wrists, "We need to call Giles - let him and everyone else know just in case Angelus tries going after one of them next."

Picking himself off the floor, Spike tossed her the phone and moved to the doorway, glancing down the hall, but knowing instinctively that if Angelus were indeed in charge right now, he'd have been long gone by now.

How could he not have recognized the change? How could he have let himself be duped so easily and so completely? Granted thoughts of Buffy had been distracting him quite a bit lately, but still - he'd spent a good couple hours roaming the town with his sire and hadn't noticed a thing.

The hand tugging on his sleeve drew him back to the present and he turned to accept the phone back from Buffy. Their hands brushed briefly as he took the cell from her, and their eyes immediately locked.

"Did you mean it?" Buffy finally asked softly, her hand still clinging to the phone as she searched his eyes.

He didn't have to ask what she was talking about as he lost himself in her searching gaze. The words wouldn't come out though, either to deny or confirm his confession to Angelus. She looked away, withdrawing her hand, and dropping her head, but before she could turn walk by him and out of the room, he grabbed her wrist and held her in place.

Again their eyes met, a shy hope, and heated desire filling her gaze as he slowly drew her nearer. His senses seemed to be overloading as he was entirely consumed by her - the sound of racing heart, the sweet smell of her arousal, the sight of her throbbing pulse on her temples and on either side of her neck, the feel of her warm skin... he closed his eyes as he leaned towards her, yearning suddenly to complete the assault on his senses - to taste her as he never had before - to kiss her like he'd wanted to since leaving her dorm the previous night.

Reality came crashing down on him as their lips touched, but this time he ignored it, delving hungrily into her mouth as her lips parted for him. Just one kiss, just one taste...

The hand holding her wrist released it in favour of wrapping itself around the back of her head, drawing her closer still, his other hand, fumbling to return the cell to his pocket before finding her waist, and working itself just underneath the bottom of her shirt to rub against her bare flesh beneath.

Her hands had found the flaps of his duster and were effectively keeping him glued to her - not that he had any immediate plans of letting go... and he lost himself once again to the power of her presence, very well aware of how quickly his own arousal was growing against her heat and her passion.

....Apparently, she was also very aware of his hardening member though too, as she repositioned herself slightly and rubbed her thigh against him slowly. He groaned into her mouth, suddenly glad for the wall behind him as he leaned backwards, allowing her tongue a chance to explore his mouth.

A faint ringing registered somewhere in the back of his mind, and Spike almost chuckled at the thought that the warning bells in his head were sounding off in such a distinct way... then he realized it was his phone ringing, not his head.

It was tempting to ignore the call, very tempting indeed as Buffy sucked his tongue back into her mouth and started tugging at the bottom of his tucked in t-shirt, but the only two people with his cell number were Buffy and Giles, and neither of them ever used it unless it was a dire emergency.

Cursing Giles' timing, Spike reluctantly pulled away from Buffy, untangling himself from her and swallowing heavily as he tried regaining some semblance of control. Buffy, looking down at his ringing pocket nestled her head against his shoulder, panting slightly, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Spike left on arm around her, holding her in place against him, then reached into his pocket to answer the phone with the other. Pulling himself and his mind back together, he flipped cleared his throat and answered.

Closing his eyes as Giles' voice filled him in on what the group had just discovered, Spike assured the former Watcher that he and Buffy would be over right away. There were definitely days he hated the Hellmouth and its timing, and this, as every other day he'd spent here since first stepping foot in the town was one of them...

Glancing down at the passion-filled gaze Buffy was favouring him with, he amended that thought - for that one kiss, maybe he could forgive the Hellmouth's bad timing just this once...

"I take it we need to take a rain check on lusty make-out session?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

Spike stared at her and offered a half-smile - rain check? He needed to have his head examined for this one make-out session. Whatever happened to his resolve to ignore his feelings for her anyway? He bit back a groan, his senses still flooded with her essence, she had happened to his resolve, and so help him, the next time he got his hands on her like this, nothing short of final death was going to stop him from finishing what they started.

"Yeah. Rain check." he agreed, brushing his lips against her forehead, before reaching for her hand and leading them out of the mansion.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy stared down at their joined hands as she followed Spike out of the mansion and back towards Giles'. She couldn't believe he'd just kissed her... she couldn't believe how much she'd liked it! If only Giles hadn't interrupted... the thought died before she even managed to complete it - what was she thinking?!

Angel - "her" Angel was going through some inconsistent and unpredictable personality switches with Angelus, and all she could think about was Spike - his tongue sweeping her mouth sensuously, hungrily; his cool touch on her waist as his hand slid higher and higher up her side against her skin...

Running her tongue over her teeth, she could still almost feel him - taste him... there was nothing she wanted more right now then to just yank them off the sidewalk and into the bushes to finish what they'd started... but she couldn't. She had her duty - duty? "Duty"?? What was wrong with her? This was not just her "duty" - this was Angel, her first love, her... well, her... Angel.

Suddenly she realized something else: although it was Angelus who had found out about her feelings for Spike - Angel would also, by default, know - or at least he would know just as soon as he regained control... How calmly was he bound to take the revelation? She could still remember his reaction to Riley - and Riley had almost been the very boyfriend Angel had wanted her to find when he'd left for LA.

Spike slowed them to a stop suddenly, and Buffy shook herself back out of her thoughts and looked around. They were here, at the foot of driveway. Almost automatically, she withdrew her hand from Spike's, unable to read his expression as he let her go, then tuned to face him.

"You know, just in case whatever they've found doesn't pan out, and Angelus and Dru figure out way to keep Angelus around, we might have to eventually kill one or both of them..." she told him, wanting to get this cleared up once and for all, before they found themselves at odds with each other before they even got a chance to explore where they were headed together.

Spike nodded, looking off into the darkness, "I won't take a dive of the deep end if you have to off Dru." he assured her. There was something in his voice though, in his look, that suggested otherwise, but whatever it was it disappeared again in seconds, causing her to wonder if she'd just been paranoid out of jealously because of how young this relationship was between them... whoa! Buffy blinked in surprise: relationship? Where had that come from? One kiss hardly made this a relationship... besides, even though she knew that too much had happened between herself and Angel for them to ignore, there would always be a part of her that loved him - and that had been a love that had begun and ended in the span of two short years, so how could she not expect Spike to continue harbouring feelings towards Drusilla - the vampiress he had loved for nearly a century?

Her life was way to complicated.

"Me too." she finally managed to mumble out. "I mean if we have to... you know... Angel-us." Spike looked back towards her an understanding in his eyes at the discomfort and reluctance in her voice.

"Well, shall we?" Spike motioned towards the door as the two of them continued standing there together at the end of the driveway.

Giving him a nod, Buffy preceded him to the door, hoping that it wouldn't be too obvious to her friends that her... relationship... with Spike had just taken a new turn. It was bad enough having to tell them that he was no longer under the influence of the implant - she had no desire to have to drop them with this new bombshell so soon afterwards.

Taking a few calming breaths, Buffy opened the door and stepped in, making her way to the table as she felt Spike move past her to stand opposite her against the wall separating the living room from the kitchenette.

"So, what's the big news?" she asked, taking a seat, and glancing at the others gathered there.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike was trying very hard to focus on what Giles and Amy were sharing with everyone - he really was - but his mind kept drifting back to the Slayer - back to that kiss - back to the overwhelming desire that one little act had ignited. He knew he'd promised himself that it would be just that one kiss, just that one taste - but so help him, it had only wet his appetite and left him hungry for more. As it was, it was all he could do to keep himself from grabbing her right here and now and carting her up to her former Watcher's room and finally acting out those fantasies he'd been having lately.

Amy's voice finally cut through to him though, which he found to be a relief given the physical effects his current train of thoughts were inducing on the lower regions of his anatomy, "...instead," the dark-haired girl was saying, "-we think she only managed to shift the balance of power. So, Angelus was able to get out again, but Angel's soul is still firmly rooted in his body, which is why he seems to jump back and forth between the two 'personalities', and why each 'personality' is able to affect the other more strongly even if they aren't the ones in charge." She paused for a moment, giving everyone a chance to let that sink in, "From what Spike and Wesley and Angel himself have told us, we figure the trigger for Angelus is any kind of weariness on Angel's part - just before Angel falls asleep for example, Angelus is able to free himself. The trigger for Angel, on the other hand seems related to deeply violent actions carried out by Angelus - so if Angelus tries to kill, Angel essentially panics strongly enough to regain control."

"Basically, what you're saying is that all we have to do is wait for Angelus to try killing someone, and we'll have Angel back?" Xander asked from his seat on the sofa beside Anya. Amy nodded. "Great! Then we won't have all that long to wait, cause we all know how much Angelus values life."

"It's not that simple," Buffy spoke up with a sigh, "I think Angelus knows what his limits are - to keep himself in the driver's seat, he'll refrain from killing unless he can make it really worth it."

She was thinking of tonight, Spike could tell, of the little set up Angelus had planned at the mansion... suddenly what exactly Amy had just said clicked in, and he leapt for the garbage bin, rummaging through its contents ignoring the strange looks his sudden search was inspiring.

Balance - what had Amy said? The balance had been shifted somehow... that paper he'd tossed out earlier - how could he have forgotten about it? That encounter he'd had with those two nonsense spewing sods the other day - it must not have been a delusion or a dream. They'd given him the bloody solution to the whole mess here, and he'd tossed the stupid scrap of paper in the soddin' rubbish bin!

Finding the empty cigarette carton, he flipped it open and retrieved the paper. 'If a balance has shifted, weight must be removed from the heavier side of the scale, or added to the lighter side.'

Okay... so how were they supposed to fix Angel? Take away Angelus' asserted strength over the body somehow, or add to Angel's strength?

"Spike?"

He looked up, slightly startled to see Buffy standing over him, peering over his shoulder at the note in his hand. Standing again, he handed her the note and started thinking, he couldn't think of a way to possibly weaken Angelus' strength, but if killing were such an abhorrent act for Angel that it was enough to give him a foothold again...

"Spike? I don't get it." Buffy frowned, looking blankly at the piece of paper in her hands and flipping it over. Amy, who had also risen to see what the fuss was about, plucked the paper from Buffy's hands and gave it a similarly confused glance.

"There's nothing here Spike, what's the big deal?" the witch asked bluntly.

Scowling, Spike snatched the paper back, the words were as clear as day - any moron with eyes should be able to read it - their meaning of course was a little on the vague side - especially if you didn't know what it was talking about... but then look at those two wankers who had given it to him; they hadn't exactly been the epitome of clarity themselves...

"It's the bloody solution to all this," Spike grumbled, waving the paper in front of the girls again, then looking at Amy, "You said the balance had shifted, between Angel and Angelus, right?" she nodded, her eyes following the paper with confusion, "Well, we have to figure out how to shift things in Angel's favour again then." Spike concluded, letting the paper fall back into the bin.

It wasn't until the words came out of his mouth that he realized fully what he'd just said. He wanted to help shift things in Angel's favour - not Angelus'. He really was going soft.

"I think I speak for us all, when I say: huh?" Xander commented into the brief silence that followed.

"He means we need to trick Angelus into killing someone so Angel will feel so guilty that he'll take over his body again for good." Anya supplied rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. Everyone turned to stare at her. "What?" she defended when she noticed everyone looking her way. "That's about the only way to shift things in Angel's favour, if killing is the only thing that brings him back to the surface."

"Oh, yeah. Good one, honey." Xander congratulated sarcastically, ignoring her glare, "Do we have any volunteers then? Anyone?"

Amy sighed as she sat back down at the table, "That might actually work." she muttered, "At least that way we'd manage to add fuel to Angel's motivation to stay in control."

"Guys!" Buffy exclaimed incredulously, looking around at everyone, "Can we stop for a minute and listen to ourselves? We're talking about finding someone for Angelus to kill just so Angel will be filled with enough guilt that he'll manage to regain enough control to weigh some metaphoric balance back in his favour!"

"We'll make it someone we all hate, then no one will miss them." Xander joked half- heartedly.

Amy shook her head and looked up suddenly, "Wait! Buffy you said earlier that Angelus was willing to kill either you or Spike right?" Buffy looked over at her and nodded slowly, "What exactly did he tell you before he went out to get Spike?"

Frowning, Buffy thought back, "He said that I had finally lost, that there'd be nothing I could do and no one else I could blame. Either Spike would come in and say... well, kill me for him, or Spike would... refuse and he'd kill Spike. Then he said..." she looked up suddenly, "... he said that Angel would probably get control again after that, but that just assured him victory, because none of us would be able to kill Angel for something "he" had done..."

Amy smiled, and Spike was pretty sure he didn't like where this was headed...

"Then killing Spike would have made Angel guilty enough to resurface." Amy nodded, "He didn't even realize that he might've sealed his fate if he had've succeeded." she continued, her smile growing. Everyone else looked at her blankly. "Think about it," she urged, the wheels spinning in her head, "-Angel always managed to stop Angelus from feeding to the point of death, but couldn't always manage to stop in time to stop the attack, right? To kill Spike though, he'd only need a split second to drive a stake home, and by the time Angel started fighting back, it'd be too late."

Now Spike was sure he didn't like where any of this was going.

"We're not letting Angelus kill Spike..." Buffy started, before he could even open his mouth. A small smile briefly threatened to curl his lips at the Slayer's immediate argument on his behalf.

"I'm not saying we let Angelus kill Spike," Amy shook her head, looking over towards Willow and Tara for support, "I'm just saying we let Angelus think he's killed Spike." The three witches smiled as everyone else looked back and forth between them waiting for their explanation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy sat quietly on the park bench beside the silent peroxide blonde vampire and wondered for the umpteenth time that evening why she had agreed to this. At least she'd convinced everyone to let her do this her way and on her own... there was no way she'd be able to do this knowing her friends were hiding out somewhere watching...

Sighing, she glanced over at the lean body beside her... this little set up had seemed so brilliant in the planning stages - now however... Swallowing heavily, she turned and straddled the vampire's lap, startling him slightly with her sudden action and drawing suddenly amber eyes up to her own.

Forcing herself to relax, she draped her arms over his shoulders and lowered her mouth tantalizingly close to his lips, earning a low growl of both uncertainty and growing lust.

There was definitely no way she'd be able to do this if her friends were watching - she could so not deal with their questions as to why she was crawling all over this captured and subdued vamp. In retrospect, despite the nauseating feeling that was building within her, she supposed they'd been lucky to find a vampire who looked enough like Spike that all that was really needed was a quick bleach job, and a few minor spells to alter his scent sufficiently to fool Angelus.

Speaking of whom... recognizing his approaching presence, Buffy quickly allowed herself to roll off the bench with the other vampire, landing them so that he was on top of her, though still motionless as a result of yet another spell he'd been placed under.

Despite how ridiculous she was feeling at this whole little act, she focussed again on the role she was supposed to be playing here, closing her eyes and trying to picture Spike's face as she moaned and wriggled beneath the unknown vampire, whose own body was very quickly growing aroused with her actions.

If this didn't work, she was having a long 'talk' with Amy... most likely with her feet and fists...

Several seconds passed, seconds that seemed to drag on for merciless hours, then, with a suddenness that surprised her, the vampire atop her burst into a cloud of dust. She popped her eyes open, forcing herself to look horror-filled and pained as she rolled away from Angelus and back to her feat.

He grinned at her maliciously for a moment, then closed his eyes and let his head fall back, a slight frown marred his face, then he doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching his head and shaking.

Buffy watched on uncertainly, keeping her distance and preparing for the worst. Finally, the dark-haired vampire looked up, not at her, but rather at the spot she'd been lying in just moments earlier.

"No." Angel's voice whispered, as he stared at the empty spot, "No..." He looked up at her, the love and pain and guilt in his eyes telling her all she needed to know, "Buffy, I'm so sorry..." She kept her features pained and heart-broken, pushing away the guilt she was feeling for having to fool him like this. She wasn't overly sure whether he was apologizing to her, for having staked the vampire he knew she was in love with, or if he'd just been apologizing for staking Spike, his childe, either way, she supposed it didn't really matter. The trick was making sure he stayed this sorry and this guilty until Amy or Willow or Tara was able to ascertain whether their plan worked or not...

* * * * * * * * * *

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly, each small jerk of the long thin hand giving the clock the semblance of resisting each forward motion. Spike averted his eyes from the stubbornly slow clock, and resumed his pacing along the length of the Summer's basement floor. Amy blew a large pink bubble with her gum, then charmed it blue, her eyes crossing slightly as she observed her handiwork, then sucked the bubble back into her mouth.

Spike rolled his eyes and glanced back at the clock. Another minute had gone by. His unlife had definitely been much easier back when he knew he didn't care what happened with the Slayer... now he was on the verge of asphyxiating the brunette sitting on the basement stairs, with her annoying, magicked bubble gum, for coming up with this insane 'plan' to begin with. He was beginning to have some serious doubts that Angel would actually feel guilty enough to reassert more complete control just because he'd dusted the childe he'd only tolerated the past few years because of the bloody chip.

If anything happened to Buffy tonight because Amy had miscalculated the outcomes of tonight's encounter... The front door unlocked and opened on the first floor, and Spike stopped pacing, jerking his head to listen as someone made their way from the front door to the basement door. By this point, it was all he could do to keep himself rooted to the spot and not go rushing past the witch and up the stairs to make sure everything was alright.

Buffy descended wearily, alive and uninjured as far as Spike could tell, but wearing the signs of the emotional ordeal she had just gone through.

Amy stood and stepped aside as Buffy made her way downstairs and sat down on the bottom step that Amy had been occupying only moments ago.

"Well, Angel is with Giles - tied and chained, just in case - so I guess we'll find out soon enough if this whole... thing... worked." the Slayer sighed. "Giles said to give it a few days, then to send Angel back to LA where Wesley and Cordelia can keep an eye on him."

Amy nodded and manoeuverered around Buffy to head back upstairs. "As long as he doesn't find out that the real Spike is still walking around, he should be able to overpower the demon long enough to subdue it again." She turned around and looked back at Spike before exiting the basement, "I'll come by tomorrow night to restrengthen the shields we've got around Spike to make sure Angel doesn't accidentally find out about this."

With that she was gone, letting herself out while Spike and Buffy faced each other, an uncertain silence descending between them. Finally Buffy stood and glanced over at the blankets that were spread out across the floor in the far corner for Spike. With Angel staying with Giles for the next few days, they'd needed a place for Spike to 'hide', and so Buffy had volunteered her house.

"Well, its late," Buffy observed reluctantly, avoiding Spike's eyes, "-so I guess I'll be going..."

Pushing aside the consequences he might be faced with later, Spike made up his mind, closing the distance between them and caught her arm, giving her his best wide-eyed innocent look. "You're not gonna leave me down in this cold, scarey basement all by my lonesome, are you?"

Buffy looked up at him questioningly, a twinge of hopeful fear hidden behind her amusement. "Why?" she asked with suspicion, her voice slightly mocking, "You're not looking for bed warmer, I hope."

She was keeping things light, but there was something else in her voice - in her eyes... Spike rolled his eyes, "No." he sighed, the brief flash of disappointment that passed over her features encouraging him, "But I am looking for something to cuddle with." That had to be the sappiest, most corny thing he'd ever said - but he didn't really care. Grabbing her around the waist before she could respond, he hefted her over his shoulder and started for his make-shift bed.

"Hey!" Buffy protested, her nose bumping against his back, "I am not some soft, fuzzy, stuffed... teddy bear, you overgrown baby! I'm - I'm the Slayer!"

Smiling, but refusing to release her, Spike entertained the image her objection produced... he had no doubt that she could be soft... and fuzzy... and stuffed... full of him...

"Fine, teddy Slayer," he replied aloud, shaking the lusty images from his mind sufficiently to answer, "I'm a vampire - I don't go for soft, fuzzy bears anyways - too tame, for my tastes."

Tumbling them down to the floor, he pinned her against him, noticing that for all her complaints she wasn't really doing much to resist him. "You're just lucky I'm to tired to fight." she mumbled with a mock pout as she snuggled closer against him.

"You're really that tired?" Spike asked innocently, a scheming grin curling the corner of his lips. She nodded her head, her eyes closed. Spike's grin grew, and he turned her around in his arms until she was facing him then lowered his mouth to hers. Her eyes flew open immediately as he drew her into the kiss, then closed again as she started kissing him back. He pulled away from her immediately and released her, rolling onto his back. "Wouldn't want to keep you up then, would we?" he told her as seriously as he could muster.

She sputtered as she stared over at him, and he closed his eyes, biting his tongue to keep himself from grinning at her incredulous expression.

Less than a second later she was on top of him, straddling his stomach as she furiously brought her lips crashing down on his, her tongue demanding he finish what he started. Finally letting the grin form as his hands wandered to the waistband of her pants, he rolled them over and began kissing her back, meeting her fury and passion with his own. This time, he resolved, there would be no interruptions.

* * * * * * * * * *

Elsewhere:

"I still fail to understand why we must invest so much time into one lower being." the male remarked, turning away from the scrying glass.

"Brother, it has been nearly one thousand of their years since one such as this one has reached this point willingly and unassisted." the female replied simply, fingering one of her favourite gifts.

"Yes, and that one, if I recall correctly, nearly ushered the End of Days upon us all, prematurely..."

"But this one knows more than just power and greed. This one knows love and loss."

The male sighed reluctantly, "Very well, we will entertain this... venture... but if in the end he remains a force of darkness..."

"...our Warriors will dispatch him immediately." the female nodded. "But if he choses the other path..."

"Yes, yes, yes, we shall add another Warrior to our ranks." the male finished for her with a touch of impatience, "Still, I do not like this..."

"Be patient. Have faith." the female urged, "We have built our ranks from the Fallen redeemed - even ones as seemingly insignificant as he. Besides much has yet to happen before he reaches that point." Holding up the gift she was playing with the female smiled, "Time will certainly tell all." With a single thought the small wrist watch vanished, and soon the two Oracles followed suite, until all that remained in the ethereal room was the single scrying pool, still focussed on the vampire and the Slayer; mortal enemies; entwined lovingly in each others arms.

Only time would tell.

The End

Feedback To Whitewolf

Back To Buffy/Spike Fics