WITCH-FINDER
PART SEVEN: THE GIGOLO
The following day, Xander paused in front of the Magic Box. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he blew into the palm and proceeded to sniff; no bad breath - check. Reaching down, he felt the zipper area of his breeches; fly�s not open - check. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

The doorbell's jingle announced his arrival. Buffy and Amy were sitting in the back while Anya dealt with a customer.

Joining the two women, he did not bother with salutations, �Did you have Campbell�s soup today, Amy?�

Bewildered, she answered, �Uh, no. Why?�

�Well, because you are mmm... mmm... good to me.�

Buffy arched a brow and noted that Anya�s head had swiveled in their direction. She was scowling.

Taking hold of Xander�s arm as he leered suggestively at Amy, she jerked him to her and whispered, �What do you think you�re doing?�

He replied, �Making Anya jealous. Is it working?�

�No. Just making you an ass.�

�Don�t worry, this is all part of the plan. I keep flirting and she�ll demand we talk. Then there will be the smoochy smoochy make-up fest which I�m sure she�ll tell you about in detail tomorrow.�

�This is your plan?!�

Xander ignored her. �Let�s play a game, Buff. I'll be the necropheliac and you play dead!"

When she just gawked at him, he added, "Come on, it would be a nice role reversal for you.�

Buffy shot daggers at him. �No, thanks, and this is a stupid plan. You�ve done enough to her. Do you have to add this to the list? I just don�t know what to think...�

He grinned. �I don�t know what you�re thinking about me either, but I hope it�s x-rated.�

Frustrated, she stood. �Let's go, Amy. Dawn should be getting out of school soon.�

The confused brunette nodded.

As they walked to the door, Xander shouted, �Hey, aren't you forgetting something?�

Buffy asked, �What?�

�Me,� he responded with naughty intent.

�Arrrggghhh,� and with that she stormed out, Amy in tow.

Anya �hrmphed� and went back to work.

* * *
He was having a bad day.

Buffy was annoyed with him and Amy believed he was a freak. Tara and Willow had dropped by, leaving not long after witnessing his antics. Sadly, the smoochy smoochy make-up fest had also been a bust. Anya was now in the process of totaling her day�s sales and had not uttered a single word to him.

Pulling the glossy Quirinus stone from his pocket, Xander flung it across the room and muttered, �Should have been named the 'Rock of Cheesy Pick-up Lines' instead.�

What now?

PART EIGHT: THE ULTIMATUM
"...so he says, 'Hey, baby, I ain't no Fred Flintstone but I can make your bed rock.'"

Buffy's lips twitched as Willow described her encounter with Xander earlier that day. "Do you think he's possessed?"

The question earned a laugh. "If so, I don't know which I prefer, this or the hyena."

When Buffy was about to comment, a sizeable, dark-robed figure blocked their path. Humor quickly faded.

The first thing he did was spit out in disgust at Willow, "Witch." In a flash, a large ball of energy flew from his fingertips, directed at her.

Jumping into action, Buffy dived and knocked her to the ground, out of harm's way. Taking no time to ascertain Willow's well-being, she surged to her feet in a defensive stance.

"This is not your fight," the Witch-Finder said. "Don't try to protect the Devil's spawn, slayer. You and I are not enemies."

"Hey-" the object of his distaste protested as she picked herself up, only to be cut off.

"Oh, I think we are," Buffy casually remarked. "Especially when you come to my town and want to kill humans, witches or not. Even more so when one of them happens to be my best gal pal."

"All magic users are evil and, therefore, must perish."

Buffy jeered the warlock, "Pot. Kettle."

The Witch-Finder ignored the barb and informed, "She is not the one I'm after. Give me the other, the one born to the craft, and I will leave you in peace." He concluded with an ultimatum, "You have twenty-four hours to decide. I'm a powerful ally and an even more powerful enemy. Choose wisely. I'll be waiting."

He was gone in a puff of smoke.

"Well," Buffy spoke with false optimism, "this was an enlightening patrol. Ready to get home to Dawn and Amy?"

The witch was more than ready.

PART NINE: DROWNING HIS SORROWS
Spike stumbled through the darkened shop talking to himself, "A man tries to do what's right and you see where it gets him." Pretending to be Buffy, he mocked, "Move along now, info boy." He ended his tirade with, "Ha-bloody-ha. Stupid bint."

The already drunk vampire had found himself strapped for cash earlier and, because of this, unable to purchase more mind-numbing alcohol. Alcohol used to block out the disastrous events that had taken place in Buffy and his relationship (if you could call it that) these past couple of weeks. In desperation, he had remembered Giles' 'good stock' and decided on breaking and entry in hopes that it had not been packed in the move.

Going behind the Magic Box counter, he began rummaging. Uncaringly, he noisily jerked drawer after drawer open. At reaching the bottom, he victoriously pulled out a nearly full bottle.

Using the tabletop for support, Spike straightened and embarked on a clean getaway. After only a few steps, his feet got tangled and he roughly hit the floor. Fortunately, his reflexes were good enough to save what he had come for.

Preparing to stand, he hesitated when a glint of something caught his eye. Curious, he retrieved a rock from the ground and rolled it in his palm. "Ooooh, shiny."

Having regained his footing, Spike swaggered to the back door singing a jaunty tune, booze and Quirinus stone in hand.

PART TEN: MAKING AMENDS
The trio in the living room listened as Dawn loudly complained from the second floor, "I want to sit in on the meeting too! It isn't fair. I can help!"

Exasperation could be clearly heard as Buffy told her younger sister no for the fourth time.

Seconds later, the sound of a slamming door echoed throughout the house and the infuriated elder sibling came down.

"That went well," she said, taking an empty seat.

"Kids," Xander replied with a smile. "I'm glad we didn't want to sit in on evil-related meetings and rush out to stop bad guys when we were her age." Musing over his statement, he joked, "Oh wait, we did."

He was given a withering glance for his efforts.

Realizing he was not out of the woods for his earlier behavior, Xander gave a regretful, "Sorry." They all knew the contriteness was for more than his usual banter.

"It's okay," Willow took pity on him. "We know you're kinda wonky without Anya. I'm sure things are gonna work out."

"Yeah," Amy agreed, not really positive of what was going on.

"Alrighty," Buffy interrupted, "feeling the love, but now we've got to focus on the aforementioned bad guy."

"So, how do we stop him?" Xander asked.

"Right to the heart of the matter. I don't know. I mean, he's human, so killing him is a major no-no. Any suggestions?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Maybe we could scare him?" Willow finally volunteered.

"I really don't think he is the kind to jump when someone yells 'boo'," Amy wryly remarked.

"There's always Spike."

Buffy tensed. Xander gawked.

When no one immediately shot her down, Willow barreled on, "Maybe we could send him to this Finder person and frighten him out of town. Spike's a vampire after all. A chipped vampire to boot. He couldn't really hurt him. You know, he could just go all 'grrr' and fangy to get the point across."

"Or," Buffy retorted, "the warlock could just toss another one of those energy balls and burn Spike into dusty bits."

Xander was smiling broadly now. "Liking this plan more and more by the minute."

"Well, he certainly wasn't afraid of us," Willow countered.

It was a long shot. It was all they had.

Buffy silently bemoaned her fate, thinking of her last meeting with the vampire. Now she was going to have to go ask him for a favor. He would never let her live this down. Never. And, the worst part of it was... no more make-up sex. A regular apology was going to have to suffice.

Oy vey.

PART ELEVEN: EAR MUFFS AND WILLY-WARMERS
She actually knocked. For the first time ever, she knocked. What did she get for her effort? Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. There was no answer.

Pushing the crypt door open, Buffy walked inside. "Spike?"

A low groan came from the other side of the sarcophagus. Concern marred her countenance as she hurried to him. Rounding the tomb, concern turned to irritation when she witnessed a sleeping William the Bloody clutching a whiskey bottle in his right hand while the other lay in a balled fist, almost protectively, over his heart.

"Spike," she repeated, scowling at the inebriated form that had somehow come to rest on the floor.

"Sod off," he drowsily snapped without opening his eyes.

Seeing all polite forms of waking him were going to be futile, she decided to resort to the usual Buffy/Spike behavior. She kicked him.

So much for the apology plan.

She gaped when he merely rotated on his side and continued to sleep. The only sound in the entire mausoleum was the meeting of glass and concrete as the bottle dropped from his hand and rolled away.

Determined, she crouched down and roughly shook him. "Wakey, wakey."

An arm lashed out and jerked her to him. He groggily said, "I'm not trying to pressure you. I don't want to have sex without mutual consent."

How... sweet. Since when was Spike sweet?

Running his fingers down her side as they rested together, his eyes remained closed when he added with a smirk, "Oh, and by the way, you have my consent."

Since when was Spike sweet? Since NEVER!

Annoyed that she had fallen for his ploy so easily, she shoved him away and snapped, "Get a grip, Randy."

He mumbled in response, "Lost my ear muffs. Next time I'm just goin' to have to use your thighs instead."

"You pig!"

"I swear, it almost feels like you're really here when you insult me, slayer. But, since this is a dream, I intend to take full advantage of it." Spike proceeded to rejoin his fantasy world, "The ear muffs aren't all that's missin'. I seem to have misplaced my willy-warmer too. Do you mind if I try you on for size?"

Jumping up, Buffy stormed from of the crypt. Looking into the sky, she asked no one in particular, "Are all the men in my life possessed?"

How little she knew.

Moments after her exit, the vampire's clenched hand loosened for the first time and the small stone it had concealed fell to the ground.

Spike slept on.

PART TWELVE: MISTAKEN IDENTITIES
Tara sat amidst the magical supplies and struggled not to yawn. Less than an hour ago, a highly perturbed Buffy had woken her with a telephone call saying she needed a barrier spell as soon as possible and it could not wait until morning. Worried, she had quickly rushed to the Summers' residence. Watching her pace back and forth, ranting nonstop, now she was just amused.

"Spike... ear muffs... willy-warmer!" There had been a lot more in between, that was the gist of it.

"Uh, Buffy," she dared to speak. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you and Spike fight. That's what you do. You said he was drunk, so I'm sure he didn't mean it."

When Buffy rolled her eyes, Tara chuckled. "Okay, he probably meant it. Still, this is really going to upset him. To have his invitation revoked."

Her shoulders sagged. "Yeah, you're right. Not to mention Dawnie will be highly ticked and just invite him back in." She sighed. "He just made me so furious."

"That's what happens when passion is involved."

"P-p-passion?!" Buffy stuttered. When Tara did not defend her statement, simply watched her with eyes wiser than someone her age should have, she let the subject drop. She knew she was going to lose.

"I'm really sorry to have made you come over this late." At least she would get one apology right tonight. "You should stay here until morning. Actually, you should be staying here all the time. Period. It's too dangerous to be on your own with this lunatic witch hunter running around Sunnydale."

"I'm not alone. There's my roommate. Anyway, he's not after me. I'll be fine. I make sure all the windows and doors are locked to the apartment every night. It's safe."

Buffy was doubtful. "The guy's powerful. Locked doors and windows wouldn't stop him if he wanted you bad enough. You need a slayer to protect-"

A sharp pain engulfed the back of her head. Buffy vaguely heard a male voice say, "Witch, found you at last," before succumbing to the waiting blackness.

Tara was left to fend for herself
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