Disclaimer: Everything BtVS and AtS is owned by Joss, ME, and all them over there. Everything Anita Blake is owned by Laurell K. Hamilton

Chapter 16

~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~~

      Willow insisted on making sure Angel was awake before she would let Spike touch her hair, so he leaned against the wall beside her door and watched as she moved down the hall. Raising a delicate hand, she rapped so lightly on the wood of the door that Spike doubted even the elder vampire's advanced hearing was able to pick it out from the usual sounds of a house in mid afternoon. Willow waited a moment before knocking a second time, slightly more audibly.

      "Angel?" Her voice was gentle, and Spike found himself growling. Why should his broody ponce of a sire get to hear the caring softness of her voice as he woke?

      Stomping down the carpeted floor of the hall was made considerably less noisy and dramatic - and, therefore, severely lacking - by the absence of his usual heavy boots. Bare feet just didn't hold any menace. Deciding to ignore that, as no one but Red could see him at the moment, Spike stopped at her side. Moving her gently to the left, he hammered on the door with the side of his fist.

      "Oi! Peaches!" Another round of pounding followed his shout. "Get the bloody sodding *hell* out of bed!"

      "What do you *want*, Spike?" Angel, shirtless and sleep- eyed, answered the door before Spike finished speaking.

      "Gang's on its way." Spike lit another cigarette, being sure to blow his exhalation into the other vampire's face. "If I have to put up with the slayer, so do you."

      Angel looked past Spike to Willow. "I'll be down in five."

      A deep growl slid from Spike as Angel shut the door in his face. He knew that Angel had the memories of their time terrorizing Europe together, but that's where any sirely feelings seemed to end. Why couldn't the older vampire just treat him with some kind of respect? He knew Angel would never show him the affection of a true sire to his childe, but to be held in no higher regard than a roach crushed under a boot was nearly more than Spike could stand.

      "Spike?" Willow's voice held understanding as it broke through the haze of his anger.

      Spike sighed. "Yeah, luv?"

      There was something in the girl's eyes that spoke of other things as she replied. "Do you think you can make my hair half as pretty as you made Dru's?"

      Spike grinned, the pain of abandonment diminishing under Willow's soft smile and uncertain eyes. "Your hair is as pretty now, without doing anything special to it, as Dru's ever was after an hour of primping. *I* can make you glorious."

      Willow giggled and let Spike throw his arm around her shoulder in a now familiar gesture as they moved back down the hall.

      Spike's sensitive ears picked up on Willow's soft sigh as she moved, if only slightly, closer to his side. A moment later, he found himself smiling as his arm wound its way around her waist as they crossed the threshold of the bedroom they shared. Willow never pulled away, and he found himself wondering if it meant something more than friendship on Willow's part.

******

      Spike smirked at Angel and Gunn over Willow's head as he followed her into the living room. He had taken his time styling his witch's hair, loving its soft raspberry scent and the heavy waves as they slid through his fingers. The style was old, picked to remind his sire of their days together in England and France before the curse and subsequent abandonment.

      Angelus had always appreciated the piles of braids and curls that called attention to swan like necks and the shoulders that ball gowns habitually left bare. There had been many nights that a victim was chosen simply for wearing her hair in such a fashion. Spike had never been able to tell what, exactly, Angelus saw in the style, as most of the hair fashions of the day had left neck and shoulders bare.

      Spike took in the stunned, glazed look in Angel's eyes. There was a small twinge of jealousy and the urge to cover Willow's tank top before he remembered that she wanted nothing to do with the dark vampire. He led her into the kitchen with a hand on the small of her back, grinning openly as Angel followed her with his eyes. Sometimes being evil was just plain... Neat!

      "Do I even want to know what that was all about?" Willow opened the refrigerator door, sighed, and closed it again. "Forgot. Haven't gone to the store yet."

      "Told the watcher to bring something anyway."

      "Then why are we sitting in here?"

      Spike filled a glass with ice and water. "Somethin' to drink."

      "And you wanted to show off to Angel without having to stay around him."

      "That too."

      Willow's response was cut off by Xander's shout of greeting.

      "Have no fear; the Xan-man is here!" Xander, followed by Gunn, entered the kitchen carrying three paper bags of groceries each.

      A disheveled and dirty Anya brought up the rear. "Tell me again why we had to stop for food that we will not be eating? I've been scared out of my mind; covered in half our inventory of various powders that should never be mixed, and are really beginning to itch; and lost many many dollars. Can't I just go home?"

      "Anya?" Spike turned his attention from the bags Xander and Gunn were unpacking to watch as Willow wrapped an arm around the ex- demon's waist to lead her from the kitchen. "What happened?"

      "I'm not supposed to talk about it," Anya had to pause as she wiped at her eyes. "Not until Giles and Buffy get here."

      Willow wrapped her arms around the other woman and held her tightly. "How about a nice hot soak in the tub? Getting clean will help you feel better, I'm sure."

      "I think I want to be close to people- close to Xander, even if he *is* being an insensitive jerk- more than I want to be clean."

      "A shower, then? It would be better than sitting around waiting for everyone to get here. I'll let you use whatever nice stuff you want."

      Spike grinned at the cajoling Willow was doing, knowing that Anya would never be able to pass up the opportunity to go through another woman's things.

      "Apple?" Anya looked at Willow from under long lashes.

      "Sure," Willow's voice floated back to Spike from the hall where she was leading Anya up to her room.

      "Get anything for breakfast?" Spike rummaged through a bag that sat waiting to be emptied.

      "Buffy is stopping by Willy's place to talk to him and get some blood for you and Dead Boy."

      Spike shook his head and snorted in contempt. Was this whelp of a moron really so blinded by his feelings toward vampires that he couldn't see that he and the Pouf were there to help? Spike could understand the ill will and general hate directed at Angel- the older vampire *was* a monumental jerk of a gel-haired nancy boy, after all� but didn't see why the animosity extended to himself.

      Sure, Spike had terrorized, tortured, or simply attempted to kill every one of the Sunnydale crew at one time or another, but it hadn't started out as anything personal. He was a master vampire, after all, and that title came with certain expectations and responsibilities, among which was attempting to kill slayers.

      The fact that there were family and friends involved with this slayer had complicated things a bit, and he blamed these complications for his initial failures in beating her. The addition of his very *sire* in her little group was what really did him in. He fully believed that he, the student, had surpassed his sire, the teacher, but it didn't change the fact that the older vampire had been his mentor and main influence for sixty years. Even though he had learned from many others over the years of their separation from one another and had killed a slayer during that time apart, Angel
knew enough about him to throw some major wrenches into his best laid plans.

      Spike shook the unwelcome thoughts from his mind, disappointed to find that the melancholy refused to be ejected along with them. He sighed, deciding that he would go and find his witch. After all, what better way to take his mind off of his abject humiliation at the hands of the slayer and her pet vampire than to drown the feelings in the all-consuming pleasure of being in the company of Willow?

      "Spike?" The occupier of his thoughts stepped lightly down the stairs and moved into the kitchen as she spoke. "Did they bring anything for you?"

      "Slayer's getting it."

      "Ah," Willow gave an exaggerated nod. "Time to beat up on Willy."

      Spike grinned as Willow put away the last of the food, quickly snatching the eggs and cheese from her hands. The girl loved plain cheese omelets, and today was as good a day as any to make her one. Besides, he could hear Angel moving toward the kitchen with the Fred girl- probably annoyed at being ignored- and wanted him to see what he was like with Willow. Maybe Angel would eventually leave him alone if he could prove that his feelings for Willow were real
through actions.

      Willow filled the tea kettle and put it on to warm up as Spike beat the eggs into submission and added the bits of cheese. Without getting in each other's way, they moved about the kitchen putting on coffee and making toast that was slathered with generous gobs of strawberry jam. Spike was sitting a large omelet with two slices of toast with jam in front of Willow when the front door was unceremoniously shoved open to admit a huffing slayer and a grimy
watcher.

      "Well, aside from finding enough blood to keep Angel and Spike healthy for a week, that was a monumental waste of time." Giles slumped into a chair and smiled his thanks as Willow poured him a cup of tea. Sliding his glasses from his face, he huffed and shrugged before putting them back on his nose, cracked lens and all. "I do wish I had something more than cream."

      Willow hopped up from the table and moved to the cabinet that sat against a wall. "Scotch? Rum?"

      "Scotch for me, please." Anya, scrubbed pink and wearing one of Willow's more simple sundresses, walked into the room and joined them at the table. Grinning, she accepted the cup of tea from Spike and added a little more scotch to hers than Giles had added to his own.

      "Um, An-" Xander was cut off before he could finish his thought.

      "Shut up, Xander Harris." Anya sipped her tea and settled back into her chair. "I'm not happy with you."

      Spike, having put up with his curiosity needling him since Anya had walked through the door, just had to ask. "What did you do?" 

      "I'll tell you what he did," her cup clacked loudly as it hit its saucer on the table. "He took forever to get to the shop
after I called him, then he insisted that he not hold me like I needed him to, and then he insisted that we go to the store and come here when all I wanted to do was go home!"

      "I had to find someone to fill in for me at the site, and then the paramedics had to check you out." Xander leaned into his upset girlfriend from his spot beside her at the table. "I wanted to make sure you were okay before I hugged you. If you were hurt badly and I hugged you as tightly as I wanted, I could have broken something."

      Anya's face softened at Xander's words, and Spike found himself smiling slightly. He liked the demon girl, getting many hours of glee from her frankness and the embarrassment it tended to cause others. Xander, even though he had always been a moron, seemed to be good for the girl, and Spike didn't want to see her get hurt.

      Anya sniffed. "What about stopping at the store?"

      Xander leaned down to rummage through a bag that he had set by the chair instead of unpacking it. Pulling a silver bag from inside, he handed it to Anya. "Hershey's chocolate. The cookies and cream kind."

      Kissing her boyfriend soundly, Anya tore into the bag. "Comfort food. I'll forgive you; but only if you give me lots
of orgasms later."

      Xander blushed, but answered anyway. "Was planning on it."

      "And on that note," Buffy stood from her chair and drew attention away from the lovers' conversation at the far end of the table. "The news is calling it a `freak, localized earthquake' that affected only the Magic Box and the empty storefront beside it."

      "Yes, even in broad daylight, this town in amazingly blind." Giles refilled his cup with both tea and scotch before eyeing Willow's now empty plate. "You made omelets?"

      Willow giggled. "Goddess, no. You know I can't cook. Spike made one for me."

      "Spike?" Xander eyed the blonde.

      "I've been alive for over 140 years. I've learned quite a bit over that time."

      "Back to the important things," Willow eyed Spike, Xander, and Giles as if they had lost their minds. "It *was* Gonolundo, right?"

      "Of course," Anya shrugged. "And he was looking for you."

Chapter 17

~~~~~~~~~~ Willow ~~~~~~~~~

      "Why did he go to the Magic Box?" Willow had corralled everyone into the living room and was pacing the floor.

      "Scent? Feel?" Angel shrugged. "You smell and feel different then you did the last time I saw you."

      "I do?"

      Spike beat his sire to answer, eyeing the older vampire as he spoke. "More powerful, like you know how to handle your magic."

      "You can smell that?"

      "And feel it, yeah." Spike gave her a crooked smile and tipped his head to the side. "Sort of overpowering if you work some major mojo and a demon's not used to being around it."

      Willow stood, nonplused, besides the coffee table until her brain started in with its usual jabbering thoughts, and she was forced to give voice to them. "But what was the point of him going to the shop when I'm here?

      "If he was there just before lunch, then he's not sun phobic, so he could come after me here. If he were going on feel or smell, that would have led him here as well, right?" Willow had resumed her pacing and didn't wait for an answer. "I mean, I was only there for half an hour last night. We've been *here* for nearly ten.

      "The only reason we were even at the shop in the first place was because of the fight with those vampires..." Willow trailed off in thought. "The blood!"

      Spike, who had just taken his first sip of the blood from Willy's wiped his mouth and eyed the mug warily. "What's wrong with the blood?"

      "Not *your* blood! Mine!"

      "Nothin' wrong with your blood, luv."

      Xander spoke from where he sat on the couch. "How would *you* know?"

      "Could smell if something was wrong with it."

      All eyes turned to Angel, though Buffy voiced the question. "Can you?"

      "Smell if someone's blood isn't right?" He shrugged and drank half his mug of blood in one gulp. "Sure."

      "Oh." Buffy paused and seemed to process the information. "Ick."

      "What about your blood, Willow?" Gunn had found a seat leaning against the entertainment center.

      "Maybe Gonuludo sent those vampires because he knew they could make me bleed, not because he wanted them to kill me. He just needed a way to track me. If Spike and Angel can sense power, he might be able to as well. Could my blood be different than anyone else's?"

      "Of course." Giles had entered `watcher mode', and was leaning forward as he spoke. "Aside from normal human differences, you also have your magic."

      "Maybe he went to the place where the scent or feel of my blood was strongest."

      "But why didn't he come here?" Xander settled Anya, who was well over half way through her bag of chocolate, more securely on his lap. "You've been here for hours with that cut on your stomach."

      Willow shrugged, "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it isn't the blood. I'm just throwing out ideas here. Let me know if you come up with anything."

      "Maybe he can't find it because you cleaned and wrapped it." Fred's soft voice floated from her seat in one of the overstuffed chairs Willow had moved into the house. "Could the antiseptic and bandaging be preventing him from tracking properly?"

      "That could be entirely possible." Polishing the glasses that Willow had repaired, Giles shook his head. "He could also be assuming that his attack on the shop has alerted us to his ability to operate during the day and doesn't want to attempt another wave until he has some backup."     

      "So... what?" Xander fidgeted with the hem of the dress Anya was wearing. "He's waiting for sunset and a few more drops of blood?"

      "I really don't believe that Willow bleeding would be necessary. He just has to be able to find her and have enough demons to distract us and use as shields while he goes for her. Both of which he would gain by using vampires."

      Buffy surged to her feet, grasped Willow's arm, and began tugging her across the room. "C'mon, we only have a few hours until dark to get you packed and out of town."

      "Out of town?" Willow jerked her hand back. "Buffy, I'm not going anywhere."

      "Yes. You are. You haven't seen this thing up close and in the stone, Wills. I just don't want you to get hurt, and he's out to get you."

      "And how, exactly, are you planning on keeping me safe when that thing can track me?"

      Spike moved from the couch and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'll go with you. We can head east this time and see where we end up."

      Angel was suddenly on his feet, towering above the other vampire. "No. Fred and Wesley will go with her. We'll need you here to fight."

      "And I'm just supposed to trust that the brain and her airy- fairy pet nancy-boy are going to keep my witch safe?" Spike snorted. "Not bleedin' likely, mate."

      Willow ignored the commotion Spike's words caused- both internally and among the group- and pushed her way between the glaring vampires. "First of all, I am perfectly capable of keeping myself alive. I mean, hello. Who's lived on the hellmouth her entire life? Second, I *can* and *will* go anywhere I wish with Spike. And third," Willow faced Buffy, Xander, and Giles. "Wasn't it *you* who had a meeting to discuss my abilities and power?"

      When the three offenders could only blush lightly and look away, Willow nodded. "Magic is the only thing that's ever been able to weaken this thing. I'm our best chance at that, and you *know* it. Gonulundo was only able to defeat the last wizard because he made it to sunset when his vampire lackeys attacked.

      "My guess is that they didn't begin using magic on him until it was a last resort. So, that wouldn't have been until well into the afternoon or early evening. If I can somehow keep his vampires from ripping me into bite-sized pieces, I think I can beat him. Of course, the best way to do that would be to get to him just after daybreak where he wouldn't get any help."

      "Willow," Gunn stood from his seat and looked at the research and maps spread over the coffee table and spilling onto the floor. "We need to figure out what and where this thing's weaknesses are before you go gunning to take him out."

      Willow nodded. "That's why I'll be going on patrol with Buffy tonight."

      Spike's arms were wrapped around her waist pulling her back against his stomach. "Bollocks to that. You're not going."

Chapter 18

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      "Wanna fill me in on this brilliant plan one more time, luv?" Spike followed closely behind a stomping Willow, knowing that the other demon wouldn't have a problem finding her if she went thrashing about like that all evening. Unlike his demon's face, he was unable to keep his fangs retracted in his fear, and he growled as elongated teeth sliced through a fourth cigarette, severing the filter from the tobacco that he so desperately needed. Cursing the cigarette and calling into question its paternal lineage, he shoved his hand back into the coat pocket for another.'

      Willow kept giving him dirty looks and picking up his discarded cigarette halves to throw in the next trash can they
passed, but Spike didn't see where he was to blame for this at all. If she had just agreed to leave with him, they would be on their way to Vegas. He had even been willing to compromise and offered to hide her somewhere the demon wouldn't suspect and have Gunn back him up protecting her as the rest of the gang took to the streets. Instead, he found himself trailing behind his idiot of a sire as they traipsed through the park in search of a huge stone demon that could only be hurt by magic and who wanted to do something extremely unpleasant to the woman he loved, if not just outright kill her.

      Said woman was moving with the kind single-minded determination that he missed from his pre-chip days. Her chin tilted up in a slightly haughty gesture. Her steps, though harsh and angry, were given with an air of authority that Spike recognized as the same air she had about her when her Resolve Face-- he always thought of it capitalized-- was on full display, and she would hear no arguments. Her stride was made three inches longer by the thick-soled boots she had picked out for their little venture in futility. The deep green material of the cloak he had given her before they left whispered and flapped in the stillness of the deepening night air.

      He had stopped her just before Angel had opened the door and moved into the dusky evening. "Got somethin' for you, pet."

      "Spike, I'm not going into hiding." Willow had pulled on her heavy coat in anticipation of the chilly air.

      "Just take off that clapped out piece of trash coat and get your cute little arse over here and open your prezzie." Spike had held the box, nearly large enough to hold Dawn, out to a questioning Willow. "I'm not standin' here all night, Red."

      Willow shook her head and removed her coat as she moved to take the box. "Sorry."

      "We really don't have time for this." Buffy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as she watched the scene between her friend and the vampire.

      "Shut yer gob, Slayer." Spike growled, not taking his eyes off the redhead as she tore into the paper the saleslady had used to wrap the box. He hadn't thought it such a good idea when the woman suggested the paper, but had found himself thanking her silently as he watched Willow. The longer it took for the witch to unwrap the box, the longer it would take for her to go out looking for what could very well be her death.

      "Oh, wow." Willow's voice had come out as a gasp and the lid of the box made a flimsy `thwap' as it fell to the floor.

      "Won't do you justice, luv, but I thought it was pretty." Spike had given that one- shouldered shrug again.

      Willow had dropped the box and ran her hands over the long cloak. "It's beautiful, Spike. When did you have time to buy it?"

      "That first night when we went to the shops in the hotel." Spike slowly inched closer to her as he spoke, sweeping a red curl to the side of her face to curl just under her chin.

      "But we were together and I never saw you buy anything." Willow's voice had dropped steadily lower until she was fairly whispering.

      "You were being fawned over, luv." Spike drew the hood over her hair and clasped the silver hook-and-eye at her throat.

      "It really is beautiful, Spike."

      "Beautiful enough to forget this idiocy and make a run for it until the watcher figures out how to kill this blighter?"

      "Spike," Willow's smile hadn't so much faded as been eradicated. The gleam of happiness in her eyes had been snuffed out by the harsh bluster of her anger. "I refuse to leave town when my not being here could very well mean the death of an innocent or someone I love!"

      "But staying could very well mean your own death, luv!"

      "That's just a risk I'm willing to take."

      Willow had stomped out of the house, though -- Spike was pleased to note -- she had not removed the cloak.

      "Maybe I don't want to take that risk, luv." Spike had muttered to the redhead's back as he had checked the lock on the door and followed the others toward the park.

      "The plan," Willow's voice still carried the bite of anger as it wrenched Spike from his memories, "Is for me to just figure out his weakness before we retreat and regroup."

      "So," Xander had moved to walk on the other side of the redhead with Anya hefting a ball bat and trailing a little
behind. "We keep ol' Gonzo and his vampire man-bitches busy while Willow gets with the mojo and figures out how to take him apart."

      A growl sounded from the front of the group a heartbeat before Spike's eyes flashed to amber and his own growl spilled from his throat. Buffy was suddenly at Willow's back, turned to face their rear. Anya was scanning the sidelines with an ax-wielding Xander. Spike made certain to keep his Red on his left as he prepared to take on the as yet unseen demons he felt approaching from his side. Through the thick haze of his anger, he could faintly hear Angel
telling the humans to get ready while Giles reminded Willow not to try and take on the demon, just to find an opening they could later exploit.

      Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Willow slowly turning, eyes wide, as she tried to catch sight of her target so she could cut the ensuing battle as short as possible. If this thing could rip a hole in the roof and side of the Magic Box, Spike doubted it would be difficult to spot. Looking at the ashen face of his beloved, however, he decided to keep that line of reasoning to himself.

      "I will rise; I will go back to the white and silver shore." Willow fingered the silver star on its long chain around her neck as she spoke something that reminded Spike of an old prayer. "I will have courage, as the sun does rising and setting. At birth and death, the gift of life is precious, Soul-life streaming down the strand. I will to as the sea in its turning. I will rise, I will go back, I will rise."

      "What was that, pet?"

      "Just asking for a little courage."

      "Willow, luv," Spike trailed the back of his hand down her arm, taking great satisfaction in the goose bumps that followed in its wake. "You've been alive on the hellmouth for many years, the last few of which were spent fighting alongside the slayer. I, for one, think you've got stones to spare."

      Willow stood, head tilted to the side, before fixing confused eyes on the blonde vampire. "Is that a compliment, or should I go see a doctor?"

      Spike leered playfully. "I could be your doctor, luv."

      "See?!" Willow's shout drew everyone's attention. "There you go again!"

      "`Go again', what?" Spike towered over the redheaded witch, and he could see the exact moment when she started to back up but thought better of it and regained her position. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with the witch. He had only been flirting to have a little fun and maybe take her mind off things for a bit.

      "You spend so much time trying to be the badass master vampire that you don't even realize that I *like* the bits of the poetic gentleman that peek through every so often!" Willow advanced until the tip of her index finger met with Spike's firm chest. He fought back a groan-- both at her nearness and her aggression. "*You*, mister, have to figure out how to let them both have some face time."

      "And what a lovely face it is." A strange, brunette vampire who wore boots with higher, skinnier heels than some of Buffy's melted out of the shadows, resting her left hand on her hip. "Won't you just come and fight on our side? The Master could restore you to your full glory, and you could have your pick of women- me included- one of every day of the year if you so wished."

      "That's okay, ducks," Spike eyed Willow as he continued. "I like mine with a little more class. The warmth and heartbeat aren't bad either."

      Spike moved to shield his witch from the predatory gaze of the female vampire, catching a slightly stale scent on the air as he moved. "Besides, I like my women to bathe on a regular basis and *not* screw any vamp within reach."

      "I'm just doing my part to keep the troops happy." The brunette flicked a stray curl behind her shoulder and rolled her hips to rest her other hand on the opposite hip in a sort of bawdy dance move. "Wouldn't want a few hundred horny vampires let loose on a town this size, now would we? Not when many of them think anything over twelve to be too old."

      Spike felt Willow tense beside him and knew from the crackle in the air that she was very *not* happy with that little bit of information and heard Buffy's `ewww'. Before Spike could reply to the sick insinuation, a slim spike of wood flew from somewhere behind him, sunk into the brunette's chest, and threw her back into a tree. She didn't even have time to scream and grasp at her chest before she burst into a million particles of dust.

      "Whore." Xander's voice caught Spike by surprise, and he noticed that everyone but Willow and Anya mirrored his emotions.

      "Xan?" Willow had stopped her search and wrapped her arms around her oldest friend. "They aren't your father. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

      "Besides," Anya wrapped her arms around the dark-haired youth from the other side, "you kicked that bastard's ass when you were fifteen."

      Xander nodded and hugged both girls to him before reloading the crossbow he'd yanked from Giles' hands in his
anger. "Sorry, `bout that, G-man."

      "Quite alright," the older man's eyes held questions as he motioned to the weapon. "Go ahead and keep it. Your aim's improved."

      "Let's hope it's *really* improved." Angel's voice floated from the lead of the group. "Looks like short, dark, and dusty's friends decided to join the party."

      Xander fit the single bolt in the notch and checked that the rapid loader was ready and waiting. Anya hefted her bat and planted her feet the way Spike had pointed out. Everyone else made themselves as battle ready as they could while keeping their sights on the slowly building army of vampires melting out of the surrounding trees and bracken.

      There was a sudden hush over the crowd as a large gray hand wrapped around a tree thicker than Spike was round, snapping it as if it were nothing and throwing it over a massive stone shoulder. The tree bounced off the trees still standing behind the creature, bending their trunks and breaking their limbs as it shattered, as if made of glass. Gonulundo towered over his cronies, nearly brushing the top of the tallest of the remaining trees. His chiseled and time worn arms reminded Spike of the bare rock walls of the cliffs of Ireland. The legs that pushed their way through the bushes clinked and grated at the knees and thighs as he moved, sending little rockslides tumbling to the ground.

      Slivers of rock and small pebbles also trickled from his shoulders as he raised his arms over his head in a stretch and roared. Great wings protruded from his impossibly wide back and extended two feet above his nubby-horned head to end in pointed claws of their own. Spike was reminded of bat wings, but he doubted they would fly. Being constructed of the same pale stone as the rest of his body had to put too much weight on them for anything more than the scary effect.

      "Do not attempt to run." The monster's voice was a rockslide as he moved through his troops.

      "Weren't plannin' on it, ugly boy." Buffy hefted her sword and took out two minions who had been stupid enough to get within striking distance.

      Willow had fallen silent when Gonulundo came into view, and Spike could see the lines on her forehead that spoke of concentration. She was totally focused on her quarry, and Spike wanted to make *damn* sure nothing happened to his witch while she did her job. Taking up his swords- one in each hand- he tested their weight as he flexed and released his shoulders in an attempt to ease their tension.

      A blue light glimmered before surrounding the demon, deeper lines of color swirled about him as Willow searched for his weak point. Gonulundo's eyes widened and he growled in that gravel-filled voice, alerting Spike and the others protecting Willow that he realized what was happening.

      "Kill them!" Gonulundo's voice snapped his troops to attention though they hesitated. "Don't spare the Red Witch. I want her head on a pike by midnight!"

      At this, a growl sounded from both sides as the surrounding army rushed Willow and her protectors. Angel's demon had long replaced the human facade, and his fangs tore one vampire's jugular out as he ran another through with the thick blade in his right hand. Xander was unloading stake after stake into the hoard with unerring accuracy. Anya crunched another on the side of the head with her bat and continued to batter the hapless female vampire until she fell to dust with a whimper.

      Spike kept close to Willow, using the skills he'd learned in China to dispatch demon after demon with both thin swords. He could hear Willow mumbling behind him as the blue lights swirled about the massive form of the stone demon. There was a slight gasp from the redhead before the demon howled in rage and pain, turning his back to
them and crashing back through the trees. The vampires quickly backed off and retreated through the bracken after their leader.

      "Found it." Willow sounded like she'd just gotten away with drinking a double espresso, and Spike could feel the energy humming off her as she bounced from person to person, inspecting them for injuries that she healed with a pass of her hand. "There's a pretty big spot in the lower abdomen's left side that's covered with a thin
layer of shale. Get through that, and he's gone."

      "So I just have to hit that spot?" Buffy's eyebrows drew together. "Don't I have to hit his heart or brain or something *inside* that spot?"

      "Don't know," Willow was still bouncing as she moved healing hands over Fred's arm and closed the cuts that had been placed there by some demon's claws. "I was doing sort of a sonar or ping-pong thing, pushing tiny particles of energy at him and seeing how they felt when they came back.

      "I kept getting super-charged ones from that spot, so I focused more on it. It took *no time* to figure out that the rock in that place was far more weak than anywhere else. When I tested a decent-sized bit of power, it came back ten-fold and he ran."

      "That why you're acting like the time me, you, and Jesse hit every coffee shop in town for a double espresso?" Xander's eyes held laughter at the memory, and Spike smiled to himself as Willow's eyes filled with the same mirth.

      She stopped her bouncing and faced her oldest friend. "That was a good night."

      "Yeah," Xander's brown eyes became cloudy. "That was the Friday BB."

      "BB?" Giles' voice was soft, and Spike noticed for the first time that the whole group had gone silent.

      "Before Buffy," Willow's voice was watery and she wiped angrily at her eyes.

      "What did ya'll do the next weekend?" Fred leaned against Wesley as she spoke.

      "Staked Jesse." Xander's voice had hardened and Willow wrapped him in a tight hug.

      This was news to Spike, and he stepped closer to the embracing pair. "You had to stake your best friend? That must have been hard."

      Xander gave a one-shouldered shrug and pushed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It was, but nobody hurts my Wills... Nobody."

      The younger man focused eyes on Spike that the vampire nearly didn't recognize. Gone was the goofy `who, me?' humor and the obtuseness with which he seemed to move through life. In his place, Spike saw a man. Someone who would fight and die for the very few he held dear.

      And, for just a moment, Spike respected the Zeppo.

      Willow, who had turned to hug Buffy as the two of them held their silent conversation, turned to face Spike with a small smile on her lips. The smile turned into a scream as her eyes widened in fear.

      Her scream of his name reached his ears accompanied by his sire's roar just as a red-hot pain bisected his chest and William the Bloody discovered what it felt like to fly into a million tiny pieces.

Chapter 19

~~~~~~~~~~~ Willow ~~~~~~~~~~~

      Willow turned from hugging Buffy, knowing that her blonde friend still blamed herself for coming to town and bringing the white horse of Death on her heels. She had forgotten that she had never spoken of Jesse at length with Spike and wanted to tell him what a great friend the other boy had been. She knew he barely tolerated Xander, but he and Jesse-- who was a little more serious and knew how to think things through before acting-- would have gotten along a lot better.

      A movement behind Spike caught her attention, and Willow found herself moving forward even as she knew she wouldn't make it in time. The tall vampire, barely discernable against the black night, drew his arm back and polished wood gleamed in the moonlight. She screamed for Spike as she tried to focus her erratic energy on the moving wood, but it was still swirling and the wood was too fast. Then the point of the stake protruded from Spike's chest as his eyes focused on hers, and he was gone.

      She barely heard Angel's roar as the dark vampire pushed his way past her and the scattered trail of dust that had been his childe. She knew he would find the vamp-- demon... *coward* who had literally stabbed Spike in the back. Willow shook her head at the stray thought of there being no honor amongst some vampires. Spike and Angel, as well as a few of the older master vampires she had fought alongside Buffy and the others, seemed to have a... code of
sorts that prevented such cowardly acts.

      "Spike?" Willow gasped as she sank to her knees among the ashes. "Oh Goddess."

      Buffy wrapped her arms around the other girl and tried to lift her away from the scene, but Willow shook her off.

      Tears slid down Willow's face and the image of Angel moving back into the circle of stunned friends was nothing more than a blurred shadow moving among the gray of the world.

      "Willow," Xander's voice was soft as he softly laid his hands on her shoulders. "Come on, Wills."

      "H-He's go-" Willow's voice caught in her throat and she sobbed into the hands that she had recently sunk into the grass in front of her, covering them in the ashes of the vampire that she lov� Oh Goddess...

      "I love him." The whisper was an anchor, making everything more real, and Willow clung to the words desperately as the world slid out of focus when ash smeared in her eyes.

      Curling into herself among the grass and ash left untouched by the nearly nonexistent night breeze, she batted away the hands she felt trying to lift her off the ground. Her vision was still marred, and she could feel the itching of the flakes as they ground and broke against her skin. Her skin ran with tears, leaving tracks in the blackened flesh of her cheeks and where they splashed down her shirt and along the forearms she sobbed into before wrapping them around her waist and wailing into the ground.

      Somehow, lying there in the residue that had been Spike, Willow felt closer to him then she ever had. This was Spike. This was the man she loved-- with all his faults and oddities-- with all she knew how to love with. The parts of her that had mourned Tara had been eaten up or burned away by the mere presence of the man whose remains she now bathed in as if she were ill and his ashes were the fount at Lourdes.

      "Willow." It was Angel's voice now, low and raw from his own pain. "We need to get inside."

      "I love him, Angel." Willow slid her face to the side so that she no longer breathed the dust in and out as she spoke.  "I didn't know..."

      "I loved him, too, Little One." Angel brushed gray, matted hair from her eyes. "He was a pain in the ass, but he was my childe-- my William-- before he added the whole `Bloody' or turned into Spike."

      "But you knew that- *he* knew that, really." Willow choked on a sob and wrapped her arms around bent knees. "He didn't know that I loved him."

      She wanted to scream. Spike had died, turned to ash in front of her eyes, without knowing that she was falling in love with him. How could she just leave him-- what was left of the man she loved-- out here to be walked on? The thought of some other vampire tracking through his dust was just too much for the redhead and a scream ripped its way out of her chest as she threw herself into Angel's waiting arms.

      "We can't leave him." Willow shook her head as she spoke into the firm chest against her nose. Coughing, gagging sobs wracked her small body, but Willow fought them to speak to the only one who might understand what she was feeling. "I can't."

      Angel's voice, softer now, spoke against her ear. "We have to, Willow, we can't stay out here. Vampires go to ash, spread to the wind; it's what we do when we die. Now, it's not safe for you out here when it's dark."

      *When it's dark.* The words echoed in her ear and Willow raised her face up to see Angel's form outlined against the light of a distant lamp. "When darkness falls on every side."

      "What?" Willow heard the confusion in the vampire's voice as the lights all around were snuffed out as if by a giant
breath. "Willow?"

      Pushing Angel away, Willow moved to stand in the center of the smudgy circle. "When darkness falls on every side, when hatred stains the hurting heart, to you we call, most powerful Guide, to kindle now the precious spark."

      As Willow spoke, a pinprick of light floated off her lip and she realized that it was a speck of ash floating in front of her as if asking for direction. Holding her hand out in front of her as if warding off something rather than calling, focusing the energy she still felt humming inside herself, Willow continued the spell.

      "Lift high the lantern's living light, that mercy's song may on us fall." Specks of light floated from the surrounding brush to join the first floating in front of her hand. Whole streaks slid from her face and arms while so many flew from her lips that it looked as if she were spitting fire. "Wayshower in uncharted night, shed your dear light upon us all!"

      There was a thunderclap just as Willow finished, a bolt of lightening shooting from the ground to the heavens throwing everyone but Willow back off the path.

      Willow blinked, taking in the platinum hair and stunned blue eyes before her. The world became fuzzy, and she felt large hands grasp her arms as she stumbled.

      "Red?"

Chapter 20

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Spike yanked the barely coherent girl into his arms and cradled her to his chest as he sunk to his knees in the grass. How had he gotten from the darkness back into the soft twilight? There had been a pain, and he had known that he had been staked. The sight of Willow screaming and reaching for him was the last thing he had
seen before there was a shriek and he knew oblivion.

      Small hands clutching at his chest brought his senses back to the present. Soft sniffling came from Willow as she seemed to try and burrow into him. Burying his nose in her hair, he let the soft scent of vanilla and Willow wash over him as blood-tinged tears seeped into her darker tresses.

      "Oh, Willow," Spike sighed.

      The small redhead snapped to life. Her arms came up from her sides to wrap around his body with surprising strength. Willow stretched to cry into his neck and shoulder as she placed hard, desperate kisses along his skin and now-dampened shirt.

      "I love you, Spike." Willow's words were as soft as her arms were hard, and Spike barely heard them through her crying and the slowly fading ring in his ears. "I tried not to, Goddess knows it's too soon, but I couldn't help it."

      Spike, for the first time in a *very* long time, was speechless. Did he really just hear what he thought he had? Could his witch... his Red... his-sun-his-moon-his-stars be confessing her love for a demon? A monster? ... Him?

      Running long fingers through Willow's hair, Spike gently tugged until she was nose to nose with him. "Care to repeat that, luv?"

      Spike's vision was filled by absinthe eyes as Willow's fingers sunk into the curly hair at the sides of his face and brought him closer. Her lips brushed his as she whispered. "I love you, Spike. I love you more than anything or anyone else I've ever known. I didn't know I could feel like this about anyone. I'd leave Sunnydale for you. I'd die for you. I'd *give up magic* for you. Just never leave me like that again."

      Spike drew in an unneeded, trembling breath, his lips still a millimeter away from those of the woman he loved. "Death cannot stop true love. The most it can do is delay it for a while."

      Willow's soft giggle was cut off as Spike sealed his lips over hers. Feeling the girl push herself into the line of his body, Spike groaned and tightened the arms he had wrapped around her waist. The whisper of Willow's tongue over his lower lip had him growling and sinking his fingers into her hair as he tangled his tongue with hers and started wondering why he had put so many bloody sodding pins in her red curls.

      Spike tried to pour his feelings into the kiss. No one and nothing was as important as the girl in his arms. He was torn between dragging Willow off to try and figure out how he came to be among the unliving after being staked, and dragging her off to explore more of the warm body pressed against him.

      Willow gave a soft whimper of pure enjoyment and Spike's demon responded. A purring growl that somehow managed to be both soft enjoyment and predatory lust sounded from the back of his throat. Spike pulled back from the kiss enough to assure both the human and demon sides of himself that Willow would in no way be harmed as his true face slid into view.

      Spike felt another hand buried in his hair a split second before he was ripped away from Willow. Using the momentum, Spike rolled backwards until he planted his feet. Without thinking, he lashed out with the back of his left hand.

      Xander gave a small `oof' as he spun and landed on his back beside Buffy's legs. A heartbeat later, Spike grinned.

      No pain. Not even a twinge of the electricity he had grown used to surging through his body to cause intense migraines. With a whoop of pure joy, Spike swept a slightly stunned Willow into his arms and began a reel to music only he heard before he stopped and faced the others.

      "Let's do that again!"

      "No," Xander scooted back away from the vampire and went to stand behind Angel and Buffy. "Let's just not."

      "Aw, hold still." Spike grinned and popped his neck. "I just wanna punch you."

      "Don't whine, Spike." Willow wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him to her in a way that let Spike know that she was going to try to hold him back from the boy that made his fangs itch. "It's not very becoming."

      "You hit me!" Xander held a hand to his reddened cheek.

      Giles turned to the younger man and shook his head. "That's been established and noted."

      "How did he hit me?"

      Spike grinned at Xander while he let himself relax into the arms surrounding his waist. "I'm not an expert on the subject or anything, but I'm bettin' it's got something to do with Red and her mojo."

      Giles nodded, his eyes unfocused as his mind worked. "I wonder if the chip went to dust as you did, or if it was simply left intact. When Willow reformed your body, it is entirely possible that the chip -- not being part of your natural body -- was just left out of the entire thing."

      "So, Spike is an outside kitty again?" Anya had taken to rubbing Xander's cheek, but her eyes were all for the scene taking place in front of them.

      Giles sighed and slipped his glasses from his nose to polish them. "It would appear so."

      "I just want to know where you went before Willow brought you back." There was an odd gruffness to Angel's voice, and he was shifting from foot to foot.

      "Alright there, Poof?"

      Angel nodded. "You?"

      Spike nodded in return. He thought about telling everyone the clichéd story of a long tunnel and a white light, but decided against it in favor of the truth. It was getting late and the truth would be easier.

      "I don't know where I was." Spike brought Willow into his arms to rest her back against his chest and sat his chin on her shoulder as he spoke. "I was here, then there was a pain and I knew I was dusted. Everything went black before a million stars blinked into life before my eyes and there was a searing pain all over my body. Next thing I know, I'm catching Red."

      Giles and Wesley were both lost in the telling, slowly coming to life as he finished. Spike wondered idly if they would be getting into a fight over who got to put that in their diary. Even though Wesley wasn't technically a Watcher any longer, he had to be keeping one. It was part of the training, as far as the vampire could tell.

      Slinging an arm over Willow's shoulders, he slowly began to lead her along the path from the park. He knew the others would follow soon enough, and he didn't really want to have the conversation he could see forming in his sire's eyes.

      It had been eighty years since the poofy bastard had left him alone with his insane sister and a grandsire to whom it mattered not whether they lived or died. Darla had been a bitch in every sense of the word, and Spike hated him as much for leaving the blonde whore alive when he left as he did for Angel's actual desertion. Taking
care of Dru was hard enough without that woman getting into every little thing they did and belittling him at every turn, reinforcing his sire's superiority to his sister-lover.

      "Spike," Angel's voice was soft on the breeze. "We need to talk."

      "No, we don't." Spike brought Willow closer to his side, letting his arm slide down to wrap around her waist.

      "Childe," the word was growled in just the way it had been before the curse stole Angelus away from his family.

      Spike used to love hearing that tone in his sire's voice. It meant he had pushed one too many buttons or gone just a little too far in their merrymaking. After a lifetime of dealing with a father who never wanted a `weakling' for a son and constant insults from his peers and the woman he loved more than anything else, that tone meant someone was paying attention to *him*. That his sire was displeased didn't bother the vampire in the least. He'd take a beating or a tongue lashing from Angelus any day. It only meant that his sire cared.

      However, the tall vampire behind him was Angel. Not Angelus.

      Angel had pushed him and Dru away as soon as he had been found out by Darla. Angel had ignored attempt after attempt to contact him, to bring him back to his childer, soul or no soul. Angel hadn't so much as lifted a finger when he'd learned of Spike and Dru's narrow escape in Prague. Spike had had to come to the very mouth of hell and nearly get killed by the slayer -- something Angel also did nothing about aside from siding with the little superhuman bitch -- to retrieve the blood of their sire. Something that should have been given freely and openly.

      No... Spike owed the man behind him nothing more than to return the treatment he had been given. And ignoring the souled mockery of his sire was something Spike excelled at.