Willow wandered dazedly around the dorm room while Tara watched from the bed. They were both worried about Xander, as evinced by Willow's restless energy and Tara's still silence.

Willow muttered to herself every now and again, not addressing her lover but instead her absent friends. "Why didn't they let me help with Xander? It's not like I did anything to him, and I know some spells that would help."

The fact that Spike didn't even tell her that Xander was leaving the hospital bothered her enormously. Buffy had called well after they'd gotten him settled. When she brought over her Wiccan/Jewish Santa presents, Xander smiled and thanked her, but she could tell there was something off with him. He didn't have any energy-but even more telling was that he didn't make any jokes. The whole Santa thing was supposed to give him fodder for a few zingers- especially since it was just after the holidays, when the world was anti-Santa. Willow understood that this was probably one of his best Christmases ever- he was his own person with no drunken parents to forget the holidays and he had Spike to love him. The thing was, she didn't think she evoked any positive response at all. When she offered to help get him back to speed with some energy work, both Spike and Xander vehemently refused. Well Spike was the most vocal about it; Xander could only muster a weak 'no, Will, I'll be fine in a few days.' After that, Xander said he was tired and Spike ushered her out of their apartment.

Willow knew that Xander tried to shy away from magick, especially since those whole 'love spell' debacle, but it was her way of helping, and was what she was good at- well, what she was good at now. Finally, the redhead got tired of pacing and sat down next to Tara. The blonde looked worried as well; she'd only known Xander for a little while compared to Willow, but the she knew Tara thought of him as a brother.

Tara was afraid that this was more than just a run-of-the-mill illness. Not only was Xander down physically, but his aura had changed as well. She hoped his change wasn't permanent; at this point she knew his spirit was still the same, which was good. That was a comfort, but she also knew there was little anyone could do at this point. Without more information, their hands were tied. The blonde wondered if Spike sensed it as well, seeing as how he spent as much time as he could by his lover's side. She empathized with Spike because the situation reminded her a little of her Mom's death. Tara did the same thing, leaving her mother's side only for school and sleep.

She wanted to talk to Spike about everything, knowing that he would need someone who understood. Tara didn't want to share her suspicions with Willow because the redhead would end up worrying more and possibly trying to help with some spell that could cause more disastrous results. The blonde was worried about Willow's forays into experimenting with magick, particularly when her lover ignored some of the more delicate nuances of their work. She knew that pure power was influencing Willow too much, but Tara wasn't sure how she could help her lover see where that might take her.

Tara was jolted out of her reverie by Willow sitting next to her on the bed. They clasped hands, gaining comfort from each other's strength. Despite their own, separate worries, they knew they had to be strong for Xander-and for Spike as well. They both worried about Xander, but the blonde vampire was carrying most of the weight of this crisis.

"We have a research meeting tonight, don't we?" Willow asked Tara as they stared at the wall. She didn't really feel like researching, but Spike might show up, and that meant a Xander update.

"Yeah," Tara whispered. "Giles needs help with the newest flood of vampires."

"Ah. He wants to make sure it's nothing more than a bunch of fledges eager to exploit Hellmouthy badness and make plays for the locals," Willow surmised. "I guess it's better than moping around here."

"Probably," Tara agreed. "We should leave soon; it's almost dark."

Willow rose from the bed and retrieved her cross, stake and herb pouch. Tara did likewise, except that she decided to forgo the bespelled herbs. Tonight she would rely on faith and a wooden stick. "Shall we?" Willow murmured as she held open the door. The sooner they got to the shop, the sooner she would know about Xander's health.

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"So, how's Xander?" Willow nervously asked Spike. The blonde vampire had just arrived for their regularly scheduled Tuesday night Scooby meeting, sans Xander.

"The same," Spike said flatly. 'The same' meant that Xander was just well enough to walk around the apartment some, bathe himself, and talk on the phone a little. Two weeks had passed since his trip to the hospital and he was far from recovered.

Giles looked up from the counter, frowning. "There's been no improvement? None at all?"

Spike shook his head and threw himself on the stairs. "He's still weak and tired. Blokes from the site are being good about it, though. They've put him on some sort of long-term disability. Doctors helped with that, too." Xander had been very much against saying anything to his employers until both Spike and Giles pointed out that doing so would help him keep his job. Once Giles reminded him that he could go see his regular doctor instead of the odious little man from the hospital, Xander capitulated and called his boss.

Buffy made worried noises from her place next to Austin at the research table. "Can't they find anything at all?" She whined, wincing at the tone of her voice. "I mean, they're doctors!" The Slayer's petulance didn't fool Spike for a moment. No matter how she tried to hide it, the girl was genuinely worried about Xander's well being-something that honestly surprised the vampire. After the way she'd treated the boy last fall, and then her reaction to their relationship, he hadn't expected her to really give a damn. Instead of the bitchy 'who cares' attitude he'd been expecting, the Slayer had worried about Xander-in her own way. That meant grating comments on inept doctors and threats to Spike about taking care of the boy.

"Buffy, the doctors are doing everything they can," Giles chided his student. "Perhaps you should focus on research? We do need to discern why there has been a sudden influx of vampires into the area."

"Fine, whatever," Buffy said, prodding Austin to get his attention back on research. They were prowling through volumes of vampire lore, hoping to figure out why there were so many of the bloodsuckers in town. They weren't overly worried about impending apocalypses, since the new arrivals weren't master vampires bent on destruction. No, these new vampires were fledges, minions, and other low-level baddies who seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere.

Spike lit a cigarette and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Giles to tell him to go outside and patrol instead of smelling up his shop. Much to his surprise, the Watcher just went back to reading his book. Willow joined Tara, who was helping Buffy sort through vampire chronicles. It was a quiet night for the gang, which was a good thing.

Unfortunately the vampire needed to stir things up a bit. Actually, it wasn't that he wanted to get anyone mad, but he had a feeling that what he was going to do next would engender bad feelings somewhere. Normally that would make him very happy indeed, but since it concerned Xander, his usual mischievous tendencies were nonexistent. Tamping out his cigarette, Spike quietly approached Giles at the counter. "How's about you and me do a spot of patrolling?" He suggested, giving Giles a hard glare.

Giles didn't catch on right away. "I would rather read.Ah, that would be an excellent idea, Spike. I do need the practice, particularly with all the vampires roaming the streets." Gathering up his weapons, Giles addressed his charges. "Do continue your research, at least until ten. After that, I believe you all have patrolling to do."

"Where are you going?" Buffy asked quickly, wondering why Giles was leaving all of a sudden.

"I would like to monitor the movements of these new vampires, and Spike knows where some of them are," Giles said smoothly. "Such information could prove useful."

"Don't you want backup?" Buffy inquired, hoping to get out of research.

"That is what Spike is for," Giles reassured her. "Do finish your research, Buffy."

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Once they were outside and well away from the Magic Box, Giles turned to Spike. "You will, of course, begin to explain yourself immediately."

Spike glanced around. There weren't any demons lurking around, no vampires to dust and no way to put this off. "It's about Xander."

"Ah," Giles murmured. "It is troubling that he isn't improving."

"Right," Spike snorted. "Look, there's something.off about him."

"Off?" Giles echoed. "He is ill, Spike. Humans are often not quite themselves when sick. They get grumpy and temperamental, or apathetic. You aren't used to such things, so I wouldn't exp-"

"No," Spike said, interrupting the Watcher's well-meaning lecture. "He smells off, and not like sick human. I do know what that smells like," He added with a grimace. "It's not like anything I've come across before. Not exactly a disease, more like a.well, like his scent just changed."

Giles pondered that information for a moment. Vampires were very sensitive to how humans and other demons smelled, and were known to identify people based on that attribute alone. It was reasonable to expect that Spike knew quite a bit about how Xander smelled, so if he said something had changed.. "You don't think the change was wrought by something mundane, then?" He asked, guessing.

"I don't know," Spike said honestly, running a hand through his hair. "It's crossed my mind. It's just that there's nothing wrong with him, according to the doctors, but something is definitely going on."

"What about his blood?" Giles inquired softly.

"What about it? I wouldn't know," Spike snapped. He didn't take of Xander, even though they both knew there were ways around the chip. It just didn't seem right, using a knife or razor when it should be his fangs. Xander had even offered his blood once, but Spike couldn't take it.

"Ah. I just thought that perhaps.there was something in it that might help us," The Watcher said quietly.

"Yeah," Spike muttered. Before they could continue their conversation, a pack of fledges appeared in their path, making a beeline for one of the local bars. "Shall we?" Spike whispered to Giles as they split up to circle the vampires.

Giles nodded and went off to the right. There were nine vampires, moving in a disorganized group across the street. Their target was obvious-a bar packed full of college students. The vamps didn't even notice Giles and Spike approaching them, stakes out and ready.

Normally, Spike would use this type of opportunity to play around with the young vampires, fighting a bit and mangling their bodies before staking them. Tonight, however, he wasn't in the mood. Too much time worrying about Xander kept him from enjoying such pastimes. The blonde got right up behind the group and staked two vamps through their backs, attacking two more before the dust from the first pair had settled.

By the time Giles reached the pack, four of them were gone, swirling at Spike's feet. The Watcher engaged one of the remaining vamps while Spike, in game face, tossed two aside and went after the last two. They were dust by the time the other two found their footing. Through the dust of his only kill Giles saw Spike finish off the last of them. Spike didn't look back to see how the Watcher was; he simply turned to continue walking down the street.

Giles was a bit shaken by the fight. He'd gotten used to Spike's wanton brutality-after patrolling with him and watching him in battle, he'd become inured to the grotesque amounts of blood and gore the vampire seemed to produce. Hells, he'd even joined him a few times in bloodying their opponents. This was the first time, though, that the Watcher had seen just what really made Spike a Master vampire. It wasn't the capacity for mayhem, or the bloodlust, but the sheer ability to kill. Spike had taken down eight vampires in less than twenty seconds-a feat that Buffy could never hope to match, much less surpass. While those vampires hadn't been as powerful as Spike himself, they weren't lowly minions either-they had some strength at their disposal, as Giles had discovered when he was fighting the one he'd managed to stake. He was very grateful that Spike hadn't left him two or three to fight off.

Spike didn't look around for Giles-he could hear the man's heartbeat behind him. The vamps had provided a momentary distraction, but he needed more. He needed to vent, to rage, to get things out of his system before he clawed his eyes out. "Go back to Buffy."

"Excuse me?" Giles said, jogging to catch up with the vampire. "What did you say?"

"Go back to the shop," Spike spat, staring straight ahead.

"And you?" Giles inquired, feeling a bit wary.

"Don't ask. I'll be home later to look after Xander." Spike sped up, knowing that Giles would fall behind. The Watcher, even at a full run, couldn't compete with vampiric abilities. Once he was sure Giles couldn't see him, Spike turned around and headed for Restfield. The fledges they'd just dusted had reeked of the cemetery, so there was a good chance that he'd find a fight there.

When he got to the cemetery, Spike headed straight for the site of his old crypt. In place of its crumbling marble walls was a 'reflecting garden', a testament to changing times. Once upon a time, when a family bought a crypt, it stayed theirs forever. Now, though, once their money ran out, away went their private bone shelter. Spike sat down on one of the stone benches, listening to the wind ripple through the trees. Barren winter branches made for an eerie sound, but Spike didn't mind. It added ambience.

After a couple of minutes, he stood and headed toward campus. He'd heard signs of movement at that end of the cemetery. A large group of vampires started at his arrival, but he didn't wait for them to react to his presence. With a stake in each hand, the blonde began decimating the gang.

When inhumanly strong hands pulled at his duster, trying to restrain him, Spike shrugged them off. Dust floated thickly around him, caking in his hair and eyes. The wind wasn't strong enough to carry all of it away, so soon the scene looked like an odd, thrashing cloud. Spike ignored the various distractions-grit blinding him, the odor of ash burning his nose, the growls and screams of his victims. Ten, eleven, twelve.he lost count eventually as two by two they dissolved around him.

Barely three minutes after he'd started, Spike found himself alone amongst the gravestones. A thick layer of vampire dust shrouded him and the area, like discolored snow. The stuff had insinuated itself into every orifice, filled his pockets, and made its way into his boots. Shoving his stakes into their loops inside his trench coat, Spike turned towards home.

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When he got to the building, Spike shook himself off vigorously before walking down to the boiler room/laundry facilities. Once there he stripped down and walked down the dim hallway to the janitor's closet. There was a floor-mounted sink and water hose setup there, for washing out the maintenance crew's buckets. Spike used it to get rid of the worst of his mess before going back to the laundry room. He threw his clothes into a washer, adding detergent they kept down with the machines. Finally he slipped into his trench coat and picked up his boots. Walking around in nothing but a duster wasn't something he really relished doing, considering the makeup of their neighbors, but it wasn't the time of day for them to be out ogling him.

Despite his earlier washing, once Spike got into the apartment, the first thing he did was take a hot shower. A vigorous scrubbing removed all traces of dirt and dust, but he kept going until his skin was raw. Only after he was sure that nothing of his night's viciousness was left did he climb out of the bath and dry off. Deciding to leave his boots and coat for later, Spike crawled into bed next to Xander, who hadn't woken from his night's sleep. It was early yet for Spike to be sleeping, and he knew that he wouldn't drift off for many hours.

After a couple of minutes of staring at the ceiling, Spike reached over to pull Xander into his arms. The young man turned and buried his face into Spike's chest, curling up like a cat. Spike expected him to settle in and sleep the night away, but he didn't.

"You're back early," Xander murmured sleepily.

"Patrolled, dusted vamps, came home. Nothing to it," Spike replied softly. There wasn't much else to say-he'd gone on patrol, killed a bunch of his own kind, and come home to his sick lover. He couldn't find anything exciting in the first two, and the third frightened him to the point he could barely think about it.

"Ah. How's Willow?"

"Fine," Spike murmured. He tightened his arms around Xander, thinking about how worried everyone was. Now that he'd actually brought up the subject of a supernatural illness to Giles, Spike was even more tense and anxious. When it had just been his private thoughts, it had been one thing. But now that he'd said it.

"Ouch," Xander murmured, pulling back a bit. The brunette reached over to rub his shoulder, where Spike's fingernails had inadvertently cut into him. After a moment, he relaxed back on Spike's chest and fell asleep again, succumbing to the exhaustion that was now his constant companion.

Spike rubbed the spot on his arm for a few minutes, resuming his intense perusal of the ceiling. His boy was sick, maybe even dying, and he couldn't do anything about it. Yeah, he could dust every vamp in the city, tear apart all the demons he could find, but he couldn't heal one single, solitary human being.

The vampire's ruminations continued until dawn began to threaten his beloved darkness. Spike eased Xander away from him so that he could get up and prepare the boy's medicines. They weren't much at this point-the typical over-the-counter painkillers along with a host of vitamins. Unfortunately they wrecked havoc on his stomach, so Spike always made him something soft and bland for breakfast. Xander grumbled about the oatmeal, but ate it anyway.

Xander had rearranged himself on the bed by the time Spike returned with a tray laden with breakfast, pills and juice. Spike smiled at the sight of his beloved spread eagle, taking up as much space as possible. The vampire set the tray to one side and climbed up next to Xander so that he could wake him. Worried blue eyes grazed over the sleeping human, stopping briefly to admire the metal piercing his body and the artwork adorning his arms. A row of pink marks just below the black biohazard tattoo caught his attention. Where had he gotten those? Spike bent down to take a closer look. The marks looked exactly like fingernails impressions.

A thick, heavy weight settled in Spike's stomach, as though dropped there from the heavens. The evening's events, such as they were, replayed through his mind again and again. The mumbled questions about Willow, Xander's soft breath on his skin, the pain he'd caused in his thoughtlessness, digging his nails into Xander's arms.

Pain. He'd caused his Xander pain-not much, but enough to get a verbal response from a mostly-asleep Xander.

Yet there had been no reciprocal pain for Spike. How was it that he could get a blinding headache from tripping Xander going up the stairs but feel nothing when he held him hard enough to leave marks behind?

A fluke. It had to be a fluke-there was no other explanation. Ignoring the trembling in his hand, Spike reached over to Xander. Carefully, slowly, the blonde pinched a fold of skin just above Xander's elbow, increasing the pressure until Xander began to move away. He had to be causing pain, he was pinching too hard for it to be anything else.

But there was no response. Spike slid off the bed and backed away from it, coming into contact with the wall. He slid down, becoming a puddle of pale flesh against dark carpet as he curled in on himself. There were only two things in his mind right now, two thoughts that chased each other like the gingham dog and the calico cat: either his chip had stopped working, or Xander was no longer human.

*****
Part 6:

Since there was no research meeting planned for that evening, Spike's appearance at the Magic Box was something of a surprise to the shop's proprietor. Giles was getting ready to lock the door and cash out the register when the vampire walked in. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu visit, Spike?"

Spike ignored the inquiry as he crossed over to the counter. Moving with unnatural speed he reached out and gave Giles an openhanded slap across the face. The force of the blow was enough to send the man staggering, but not enough to break anything.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Giles screamed as he rubbed his sore skin. He grabbed a crossbow from behind the counter and aimed at the vampire, who was writhing on the floor in obvious pain. He kept the weapon aimed at Spike, who didn't get up, even after the chip's punishment ceased. "Spike, explain yourself before I remove you from the premises with a broom."

The only answer he got was a brief shake of Spike's head. The vampire stayed in a knot on the floor, rocking gently back and forth. Giles' anger quickly turned to concern and he laid aside the weapon. By the time he'd gotten around the counter and to Spike's side, the vampire had regained some of his composure and was now sitting motionlessly on the floor. Sensing that perhaps touching the man was a bad idea, Giles sat down in front of the vampire, about five feet away. "I suppose there was a reason for that display?"

"The chip still works," Spike murmured, staring over Giles' shoulder.

Giles raised one speculative eyebrow. "So it does. I wasn't aware that there was any danger of it not functioning properly."

"Last night," Spike paused.

Giles leaned forward slightly, waiting for the vampire to continue.

"I was holding Xander. He's still not well," Spike added. "I was thinking about losing him, acting like the bloody pouf."

"I see," Giles said, not really seeing.

"I guess I got a bit worried and held on too tightly, because I." Spike looked up at the ceiling, as though God was there giving him advice. "I hurt him."

"Oh," Giles replied. "And this prompted." He thought for a moment. "It didn't set the chip off?"

"I didn't think about it until later, when I saw the marks my fingernails made in his arm. Tested it again, to make sure, but." Spike looked at Giles for the first time; the Watcher gasped at the raw fear he saw in the vampire's eyes. No, fear wasn't the right word-the blonde was terrified. "Xander's not human, not anymore."

Rupert Giles found himself without anything to say.

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"Cigarette?"

"Yes, thank you," Giles replied, accepting the lit cigarette from Spike. At some point, the vampire had gotten up and moved to sit next to the Watcher. They sat there for a long time, watching Spike's smoke rings drift through the more generic cloud that Giles produced. Giles still wasn't sure how to respond to this newest revelation. He couldn't even clearly classify his own reactions to it. Oh, he knew he was horrified, terrified and generally scared shitless over the very suspicion that Xander was no longer human. Annoying as he might be, he was the closest thing to a son Giles had ever had, so this news brought out every paternal instinct he had. What was confusing him was that he wanted to throw an arm around Spike and reassure him that everything would be ok, that Xander would make it through this and that they would be together forever. However, comforting Spike seemed, well, wrong somehow.

"I don't suppose you've got a fancy book that diagnoses demonic infections, do you?" Spike asked as he stubbed out his cigarette.

"Unfortunately there is no supernatural equivalent of the DSM-IV," Giles replied lightly. "I believe the usual course of action is to catalogue all symptoms and.characteristics as they manifest, and then compare them to those of known demons. We can, however, look at some less.specific characteristics."

"Like what?" Spike asked warily. He knew from experience that a lot of spells had nasty side effects, and he didn't completely trust any magick that came out of this group.

Giles shifted uncomfortably. "We can look for his soul-to see that it is still intact. Not all demons are soulless, but some are. If he is turning into one of the soulless variety, we may be able to prevent him from losing it."

Spike nodded. He liked that idea-a soulless Xander was a frightening thought, even to the master vampire. "Right, then. What do you need?"

The Watcher stood and began rushing around the shop. "I assume you haven't discussed this with him yet?" It made sense to Giles that Spike hadn't-and he couldn't even imagine how the conversation would have gone. 'Morning, luv. Good news-either the chip's not working or you're no longer the man you used to be. Cream and sugar?'

"What was I supposed to tell him, I'm either back to my old self or he's not who he thought he was?" Spike snapped as he rose to his feet. He snarled at Giles' grin. "I'm going over there. See you in a bit?"

Giles glanced at his watch. "Is half an hour enough?" He knew that Spike wanted to talk to Xander alone, but he also needed to discuss the situation with the young man. The longer he thought about it, the more possibilities he came up with.

"Yeah," Spike murmured as he walked out the door.

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Much to Spike's surprise, Xander was awake and on the couch when he returned. "Yo, blondie," Xander murmured sleepily from his nest of blankets. "How went the nonspecific badness?"

Spike slipped off his duster and vaulted over the back of the couch, sliding into place next to his lover. Xander immediately fell over onto his lap, burrowing into welcoming arms. "Didn't do much of that. Went to see Rupes."

Xander stilled. Why would Spike seek out Giles? "What for?"

The blonde remained silent for a while, carding his fingers through Xander's hair. He idly noted that the boy needed a touch-up; his highlights were growing out. "Xander."

The pain in Spike's voice worried Xander. "What is it?" He tried to sit up, but Spike wouldn't let him.

"Do you remember last night?"

"Erm.what there was of it, yeah?" Xander replied cautiously. He didn't remember *doing* anything, but then again he'd been too tired to.

"I hurt you," Spike whispered.

"Uh.I don't remember that," Xander said. "Nope, not remembering pain or vamp-migraines or anything like that."

"The chip didn't fry me," The blonde murmured.

"Then you didn't hurt me," Xander shot back.

"I tested it again," Spike argued.

"So maybe it doesn't work anymore," Xander said firmly. He refused to think about what that might mean for him and his friends.

"On Giles, today. The chip still works," Spike finished.

/What the./ Xander's mind fell silent. /Well, this is new,/ soldier-Xander piped up. /Definitely not good,/ hyena-Xander added. /What the fuck does it mean?/ the soldier insisted.

"It means you're not human," Spike replied. Xander jumped a bit. Had he said that out loud? "Giles is coming over in a bit."

"To do what?" Xander whimpered. "Exorcise me?"

Spike wrapped his arms around Xander, mostly to make sure the young man didn't look up and see the tears forming in the vampire's eyes. "No, to make sure nothing serious is wrong."

"Serious in what way?" Xander insisted. He knew he couldn't move around, and it irked him. Spike's voice was thickening suspiciously.

"Your soul," Spike ground out.

"What, you think I'm soulless now?" Xander spat, struggling despite Spike's superior strength. Death-grip or not, he was getting up.

"No!" Spike insisted, holding Xander tighter. "To make sure you keep it," He muttered.

"Spike, let me up," Xander said angrily. Spike ignored him for a moment, but a sharp jab to his middle reminded the vampire that sick or not Xander wouldn't put up with such behavior for very long. Xander lurched off the couch and into the armchair. Spike stared after him, blood tinged tears running down his face.

"Xander."

"Go away," Xander growled, curling up into a ball.

"No," Spike insisted, wiping his face off. "We need to-"

"No, we don't," Xander replied, putting his hands over his ears. "Let Giles do his thing when he gets here, then leave me alone."

Spike looked down at his hands. He'd handled that rather poorly. Xander had gone fetal and wasn't talking to him, and Giles was due to arrive any minute. The thing was, he couldn't think of way to break the news that wouldn't get this reaction. Unbeknownst to the blonde, he began rocking back and forth, a low keening sound emanating from his throat.

Xander looked up after a few minutes, distracted by the odd wail that was giving him a headache. He glanced over at Spike, shocked to see the vampire in what Xander called 'broken mode'. It reminded him distinctly of how his love had been the night they'd gotten together. The brunette sighed and returned to the couch. Regardless of how he felt, he couldn't leave Spike like that. Deciding that maybe they'd talked enough, he just curled around the vampire and waited for the panic attack to pass. After a few minutes Spike settled down and the pair lay on the couch, waiting for Giles to arrive.

A knock on the door roused the pair. Spike extricated himself from Xander and went to let in the Watcher. Giles looked at the two men, noting the obvious signs of emotional distress. "I assume that Spike has told you what this is about, Xander?"

"Yeah. Let's get this over with," Xander muttered, sitting up.

"As you wish," Giles murmured. He'd prepared everything, so all that there was to do was cast the spell itself. Spike sat back in the armchair and watched as Giles chanted a few words as he stared into a bowl of water he'd placed in Xander's hands.

Xander fidgeted a bit, not comfortable with the whole magick thing. He looked over at Spike, who was trying his best to stare a hole into Giles' skull. He hoped the Watcher had some sort of information for him-what he was turning into, whether it could be reversed, or something.

"You aren't losing your soul," Giles stated, jarring Xander out of his thoughts.

"Well, that's a relief," Xander replied sarcastically. "Any other good news?"

Giles sat down on the couch, taking the water from Xander's hands. "You probably won't die from this."

"Great." Spike glared at Xander. "What? It's good news."

The Watcher sighed. "This type of illness is really quite rare-most demonic transformations are rather sudden, instead of this, which appears to be a slowly advancing infection. I don't have any experience with it, to be perfectly honest."

"So what's the plan, sit and wait?" Xander inquired hotly.

"Something to that effect, although of course we will be researching this. There may be a way to reverse the process, if we can find it. Honestly, though, we're more likely to find out what is happening by watching for new.characteristics to appear," Giles replied quietly.

"Fine," Xander muttered. "I'm tired. You two can talk about this all night if you want to, but I'm going to bed." With that, Xander hoisted himself off the couch and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"It's shock," Giles told Spike, who looked to be on the verge of tears.

Spike realized that Giles was staring, so he put on his best snarl. "Right. Well, you'd best be off. Wouldn't want to miss the chance to tell the Slayer all about it, now would you?"

Giles recoiled at the venom in Spike's voice. He knew that it was mostly anger and frustration-not at him but at the situation, but it still hurt. "No, that is Xander's news to share, or not to share."

"Fine," Spike growled. Giles took the hint and exited quietly.

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Xander sunk down in the driver's seat of his car, panting. He hated being so weak that walking down the stairs tired him out. It was just sunrise, the pinkish glow of the coming day casting an odd glow to his apartment building. Steeling himself, Xander started his car and pulled out onto the street. At least driving didn't take lots of energy-otherwise he'd have never made it anywhere.

He'd spent all night thinking. For the past few weeks he'd been terrified that he'd caught some sort of nasty disease, one that would gradually disintegrate him. The irony of dying like that after having survived the Hellmouth was not lost on the young man. All sorts of possibilities had gone through his mind, including magickal interference. Nothing, however, had readied him for the news he'd received.

He, one Alexander Harris, was turning into a demon. One of the bad guys.well, except for Spike. Spike. What was going through the vampire's head? 'Oh shit, my convenient fuck's a demon?' Dru liked that kind of thing, but Xander just couldn't see Spike hanging around.whatever it was he was becoming.

And of course there was Buffy. She'd begrudgingly accepted Spike as a sort-of-member of the gang, since he was chipped and kept most of his mayhem focused on bad guys. At one time, Oz had been a fringe member of the group as well. But Buffy never really let nonhumans get that close to her-and she'd certainly not accept his own transformation. Hells, she'd probably blame it on Spike.

That pretty much summed up why Xander was driving away from Sunnydale. He couldn't put his friends through this. Willow.she didn't need more stuff like this in her life. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand the pity, the worry and the suspicious looks he'd earn as the newest freak member of the Scooby gang.

At least his multiple mental voices were staying quiet. He laughed at their lack of commentary-just like them to not talk when he needed them. But then again, they were probably in as much shock as he was. Xander blinked a few times to clear his eyes, yawning at the same time. Damn it, he was tired. Again.

After a few minutes, Xander realized that his exhaustion wasn't going to just disappear, so he began to look for a place to pull over. In what he considered to be the only spot of good luck he'd had in a very long time, he spotted a rest area sign. Still yawning widely, Xander pulled into a shady spot and killed the engine. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

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Spike woke up and glanced at the clock. It was past time for him to get up and fix Xander something for breakfast. The cool temperature of the bed told him that Xander wasn't there, and hadn't been for some time. Worried, Spike rolled off the bed and stood. His feelings of dread increased when he looked into the main room. His lover wasn't there either. In fact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. The vampire returned to the bedroom and dressed hurriedly, even as he looked around for any sign of where Xander had gone. His keys and wallet were missing, but his cell phone was still on the dresser.

He grabbed the cell phone and dialed up Giles' number.

"Hello?"

"He's run off," Spike said to the sleepy Watcher. "Gone." The vampire went out into the hall and down to the window. "In the car."

"I'll be right over," Giles said, slamming the phone down.

Spike returned to the apartment, where he paced furiously. He should've expected his, should've stayed up all night watching the boy. It was such a Xander thing to do-running. The worst part was that Spike knew that he wasn't just running away from his problems. No, the daft git probably thought he was doing them all a favor-Spike, Buffy, Willow and Giles.

The vampire was still fuming and stomping when Giles arrived. "About time, Watcher," Spike growled as he let Giles in.

"We should call the others," Giles said quickly.

"Why?"

"Because they can help us find him," The Watcher replied. "And we'll need all the help we can get."

Spike nodded and pointed at the phone. He'd made one call today and didn't trust himself to get through another without snapping the machine in two. So while Giles called the girls, rousing them out of bed, Spike heated up his own breakfast.

The vampire was more than a little surprised at how quickly the others arrived. He hadn't paid much attention to what Giles had said to them, but it must have been impressive. Joyce showed up less than twenty minutes later with a car load of girls-Buffy, Willow and Tara-all looking frightened out of their minds.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Willow demanded as she walked into the apartment. "We-"

"We just found this out last night," Giles told the new arrivals. "And Xander should have been the one to tell you anyway."

Tara nodded and tried to calm Willow down, while Joyce did the same for Buffy. "Spike." Buffy began menacingly.

"I didn't do anything to him, Slayer," Spike growled, shifting into gameface.

Buffy slumped down. "I know," She murmured. It would've been so easy to lay the blame at Spike's feet, to have him as a punching bag for all the bad feelings she had. She knew she'd not been a very good friend to Xander during the past few months. Ok, ok, she'd been a horrible person. But this? All relationship debris aside, this was very troubling for the Slayer. She counted Xander as one of her own, even when she didn't want him around. No one messed with her people and got away with it. And in this case, she couldn't even beat up the culprit, since he was running away.

"How do we find him?" Joyce asked Giles.

"There are tracking spells." Willow murmured over Tara's shoulder.

"But they won't function correctly on Xander," Giles warned the young witch. "We have no idea how far along in his transformation Xander is."

"He'd probably head to Los Angeles," Willow hypothesized. "It's big and easy to get lost in."

"But Angel's there," Buffy reminded her. "He really, really dislikes Angel."

"San Francisco," Spike said quietly.

"Why there?" Joyce inquired.

"He enjoyed it," The vampire replied.

"That's a long way off," Buffy added, frowning. "But-"

The Slayer was interrupted by the telephone. Spike looked at the thing like it might bite, so Giles answered the call. Within seconds, the entire room was on edge-the call was rather obviously about Xander. Giles gave clipped, one-word answers to unheard questions while the others paced. Spike could hear what was being said and began to growl and pace once more.

"That was the regional medical center," Giles told the others as he ended the call. "Xander is there, in the emergency room."

"What happened?" Willow asked worriedly.

"He was found unconscious in his car at a rest area north of Sunnydale," Giles said. "Spike was listed in his insurance as an emergency contact."

"Let's go," Buffy stated, opening the door. "He's less than an hour away." The others looked around for a moment before following Buffy downstairs. Spike grabbed a blanket to use in Giles' car. Minutes later they were racing north.

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Xander watched as Spike stepped into his cubicle. He was expecting to see a pissed off Spike, or a frustrated Spike, even perhaps a raving and screaming Spike. Instead, the blonde vampire looked broken, terrified and lost. "Spike?"

"Why did you go?" Spike asked as he neared the bed. He didn't touch Xander as he took a seat on the hard plastic stool the hospital provided guests.

Xander looked away. He'd steeled himself against the hot emotions Spike usually lobbed at those he knew, but this? "I.why should I have stayed?"

Spike felt his heart and his mind plummet through the floor, straight into the hands of the devil. Why, indeed? He stood up and walked toward the drawn curtain that gave them a modicum of privacy. "I couldn't tell you, Xander." He pulled the curtain open a bit and slid through. "I love you, though."

"Spike! Wait!" Xander shouted. He couldn't do it anymore-he didn't care how weak it made him, or what it said about his mental condition, he needed Spike. He needed the vampire's strength and his vulnerability-he needed the blood-tinged tears and the black rage.

A moment later Spike walked back through the curtain. "What?"

Xander looked up at the vampire, frightened to see something he'd not witnessed in a long time-a look of cold indifference on his lover's face. Well, it was worth a shot. "I need you."

*****