Chapter 10

Spike had drifted awake to find Buffy clinging to his side. He did not move her, preferring to remain still and let his mind slowly start to function. Answering those questions foremost on his mind: 'What was he doing here?', 'Where was here?', 'Why was this girl here?' and most importantly 'Who the hell was he going to kill to keep her there?'. The questions were quickly answered as his brain woke up and began to function. Most of them. That last one he was a bit uncertain about, and it had spawn a couple of nagging little ones that would not go away.

With a sudden twitch the girl abruptly woke up.

"Bad dreams, luv?"

She stared at him, her eyes wide and wild for a few seconds as she came to consciousness. Then her eyes became guarded and cautious. She nodded briefly.

"I think we had best carry on this charade by hitting the showers, eh luv. After all, I'm supposed to have spent the better part of this morning proving my 'manliness' to you."

Buffy nodded again and rose from the bed. Spike's eyes followed her sleek naked form, "Not that I wouldn't mind you realize..."

Buffy turned with a smile on her face, "If you want, you could take me right now..." She spread her arms, offering herself to him. The words sounded inviting, but Spike was sure she was testing him.

"None of that, pet," he admonished rising up from the bed and moving to stand before her, equally exposed. He grasped her shoulders, and spoke firmly in a low voice, "Be assured, there will have no games between us, Buffy. If we are to do this together, faith will be necessary."

"Faith?" she asked arching her eyebrow.

"Faith," he said with a slight growl for emphasis. He pulled her body close his own, leaned in towards her ear and whispered, "Faith in me, faith in yourself and faith in us." Then he let her go, turned to the bed and began to strip the sheets.

Buffy stood there trying to collect her thoughts. The offer had been genuine. She would not have been bothered if he had wanted to fool around. **It wasn't as if he'd be doing anything that hadn't already been done to me. That I wasn't expecting him to do.** She stopped at that thought as a sudden realization swept through her. **Because I didn't have faith in him. Because I'm still thinking of him as *just* another vampire and not as my ally.** For some reason, this cause her to feel a surge of irritation at the peroxide-blond vampire even though she knew it was irrational. "Okay", she drawled out slowly while staring at his ass as he bent over. She cursed herself for being drawn to him in such a fashion and then she cursed him, **Goddamn-clever-fucking-vampire! I just hope he's as smart as he is good looking. Down Girl! Why the hell did he have to be so fucking *hot* looking anyway?**

Finished with bundling up the sheets and pillowcases he turned back towards Buffy. "I'm not going to pull my punches and lie to you," he whispered. "I'm going to be tough as hell on you and you're going to hate me. But if you want to achieve your goals, I am probably going to be your best chance. Now, I am well aware of that stubborn streak in you as an ex-slayer. However, in order for this to work, you are going to have to obey my orders immediately, unquestioningly and without fail. Do you understand me?"

"Aye, aye. Captain Bliegh," she muttered in return with a quick salute.

Spike looked very seriously into her eyes. "I'm going to try to take you out of here tonight, Buffy. But, until I do get you out of here, don't do anything different from what you normally would. You've done a smashing good job thus far, Luv. Don't blow it now."

his glare she subdued her desire to give a flip remark, **Time enough for that later.** Instead, she whispered back at him, "Look, I understand. It's OK. Chill. I've done the bow-and-scrape yes-Master thing for this long."

Spike watched in fascination, as her eyes seem to glaze over briefly and change from the strong, guarded, intelligent look that he approved of to that of a docile, meek and spiritless slave.

"Did, my Lord, desire me to bath him?" she asked in a voice dripping with honey.

"That he did, pet," he said with a sigh, "That he did." He lifted his hand indicating for her to lead the way. Buffy grabbed the bundle of sheets to drop in the laundry. He followed her out the door, wondering why the sight of her behaving in such a submissive manner gave him such an unsettling feeling.

***

The showers were a community affair set up in the back basement area. As the sun had only just set, not many vampires were up yet, so there was nobody else using the showers when Spike and Buffy entered. Turning on the water, Buffy picked up the soap, turned to Spike and began to clean him. She worked up the soap's lather first on his chest and then proceeded to clean his entire body from head to toe, front and back. When Spike turned to rinse she began to soap up her own body. Unexpectedly, she felt his hand again upon her shoulder. He took the soap from her and began to clean her body. Buffy closed her eyes and relaxed as his strong hands massaged her body.

Until a voice cut in. A sarcastic, harsh voice that Buffy knew too well, dripping with poison.

"Oh my. How cozy. Is this a private party or can anyone join?" Willow strolled into the room, naked as well.

Spike paid no attention to the red-haired vamp, continuing to soap Buffy instead. He finished and indicated for her to rinse before looking at Willow. Finally, he asked, "Did you need somethin', pet?"

Pretending to ignore Spike, Willow sauntered over to Buffy as she stood under the shower spray and began to stroke the rings along her back. Buffy remained still, nervously wondering what Willow's game was today. Finally, Willow addressed Spike, "Did you like my artwork? I must admit I never was one for art before, paints and clay were just so dull to me." She sighed. "But once I found out what I could do with flesh and blood...well, I just turned into such a fan of the National Endowment for the Arts." She paused to flick each hoop as she stroked her index finger along Buffy's right arm. "I sent then a contribution you know. After I was enlightened. My parents. Well parts of them, anyway. It was more of a collage of the male and female forms. Caused quite a stir, I believe. Mom and dad being so liberal and all, I thought they would appreciate it."

"I'm sure they were overcome with joy," Spike said sardonically.

Willow glanced at him then back at Buffy's left shoulder where she was now toying with the rings there. "But they were just human. And I have found that I can do so much on a canvas such as Childe here. So tell me Spike, cause I really value the opinion from such a worldly and important vampire such as you. Do you like my artwork or..." she grasped a ring and suddenly ripped it from Buffy's upper arm, "...should I just take them out and start over?"

Buffy let out a shriek of pain, jumped away from Willow and clasped her hand over the wound. Spike moved to grab her and pulled her close to him, placing his arms about her back in a protective embrace.

"Was that really necessary?" Spike growled and glared at her, his eyes flashing yellow.

"But her screams are so lovely. Oh are you concerned about the wound?" Willow laughed and returned his gaze daring him to challenge her. "Don't fret, *Pet*, she'll heal soon enough, and without even a scar. That's just another one of the joys of working with Childe here. One of the few benefits of her being a former Slayer. Well that, and her blood still tastes very sweet." She moved to lift Buffy's hand from the wound, it was coated in blood. Never breaking eye contact with Spike, Willow leaned in close, extended her tongue and slowly licked Buffy's palm clean. She moaned in pleasure and her face shifted to show her demonic visage. When she was finished, she released the hand and allowed her human face to resurface

"You have not tasted her? I see no marks on her neck. Childe would not have minded."

"She offered, I didn't feel like it."

"She must not have performed very well then."

"On the contrary, she performed very well. Well enough to make it unnecessary."

Willow's smile broadened. She moved close to Buffy's ear, "Childe."

"Yes, Mistress," Buffy spoke in a soft tone.

"I think you have a champion, here." She traced a sharp nail around the wound, "Did that hurt you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Well, perhaps if you asked your 'White Knight' nicely, he will kiss your wound and make it feel better." Although she phrased it as a suggestion, Buffy knew it was an order.

"P-Please, my lord, w-would you k-kiss my wound?" she said keeping her head turned down.

Spike continued to glare at Willow for several seconds before softening his features and reaching to tilt Buffy's head up to look at him. He bent down and tenderly kissed the torn flesh on her forearm, tasting the blood that was already slowing as the wound began to heal. Gentle as it was, Buffy still had to repress a hiss of pain at the touch. The sweetness of her blood was delicious and it hit Spike hard, but he retained control and did not allow his demon face to emerge. Instead he straightened and then moved to kiss Buffy on her lips. Buffy opened her lips to allow him to plunder her mouth. After a minute he broke the kiss and she lowered her eyes back to the floor.

"Better?" she heard him ask.

"Yes, my lord," she managed to say without a stammer.

"Go back to the room and I will be along shortly," he said. With a quick nod Buffy left the room, grabbing a towel as she ran out.

Spike moved to get his own towel only to find Willow blocking his path, "Was there something else?"

Willow smiled and reached out to stroke Spike's chest. "Oh there is always something else," she said in a breathy tone of voice. "But for now, I simply wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Spike queried.

"Mmm huh," she smiled. "You see, if it were not for you, I might be decades away from the position of power that I am in now." Spike said nothing. Willow's hand moved first to his stomach and then lower. "So I just wanted to express my...gratitude."

Spike snatched her hand away and stepped back, "Little Girl, you like to play games, don't you? Well the game you're playing right now is one that I don't particularly care for. It's very dangerous and unpredictable. Let me give you a word of advice. Don't play it. Messalina was executed for it."

Willow frowned as she contemplated his obscure reference. Suddenly, remembering where it was from, she drew herself up angrily, "How dare you compare me to that slut!" Her anger then dissipated just as quickly, "Besides, if there was anyone from that time that could compare to me it would be Livia."

**Is that because she murdered everyone including her husband and got away with it?** Spike thought. Bowing slightly he said, "Many pardons, if I have offended. Please accept my apologies for having misunderstood your intentions."

Willow smiled, "On one condition..." Spike raised an eyebrow as she slid her hands down along her body before she continued, "I want you to bath me."

***

Buffy hurried back to the room in a panic. She hadn't had a prophetic dream since she had been turned. It was just one of those things she thought she had lost now that she was no longer a Slayer. But when Willow had yanked the ring from her shoulder, it had taken every ounce of willpower not to freak. Remembering the rest of her dream she shivered. The Master and Willow had toyed with her, and then the Master had killed her. They had lived on, while everything she had endured had been had been for nothing. She wanted to scream, to rage, to breakdown in hysteria. Instead she had huddle in Spike's arms, and let them think her tears were from the pain. Yes, Willow had hurt her. But after six months of enduring various levels of pain, she had developed an incredible tolerance for it. True pleasure, on the other hand, was something she rarely had experienced even before her turning, but when Spike had kissed her, everything bad had briefly seemed to fade away. For a second, she had felt what could only be described as a sense of peace and happiness. When the kiss had ended, a chill had swept through her as the memory of her dream-self killing Spike returned.

When she reached the room she found the Master waiting for her. He was sitting in the chair and sipping his usually evening espresso in a demitasse cup. When he saw her pause at the door, he waved her into the room. As she entered she saw a new dress lay on the bed.

"Ah Childe, good, I wished to speak to you," he said then frowned as he saw the wound. "Did you do something to anger Spike?"

"N-no Master. It was Willow," she told him.

His frown changed to a smile, "Ah good then, is she keeping him occupied?"

"Yes, she is, Master," Buffy said, bracing herself as she wondered what was going on and trying to keep her fear from clouding her thoughts.

"I wanted to have a private chat with you before seeing him this evening." He rose from the chair and then indicated for her to sit. As he moved behind her, she heard him opening a drawer and then a cabinet. Buffy was straining to discern what he was doing. Her memory of the dream had her so worked up that when he walked back towards her, she had tensed up in preparation for leaping out of the chair and making a desperate break for freedom. When instead he moved to her left side and began to bandage her wound, she closed her eyes and berated herself for almost blowing her cool.

"Did you enjoy your time with Spike this morning?" the Master asked as he began to cut a piece of gauze.

"Y-Yes, Master," she replied with some hesitation.

"Good. Good. Do you think that Spike enjoyed his time with you?" He placed the gauze carefully over the wound.

"Yes, Master."

"Excellent. Would you like to go with him when he leaves here?" He tore off a piece of tape and placed it on one side of the gauze.

Unsure exactly how to answer this, Buffy cocked her head and decided to play dumb. "Does my Sire want me to go away?"

The Master smiled as he finished placing a second piece of tape, "It appeared to me that Spike seemed to have developed a keen interest in you last night, as I hoped he would. I am...concerned for him. He has been very...different since he lost Drusilla."

The Master had moved to pick up the new dress and held it up for her to get in. This dress was made out of silk and was, like the one from last night, designed in an older style of fashion. It was a pale purple in color and had a delicate hand-woven lace pattern on the skirt. Buffy stood and raised her arms and he slipped the gown over her head. He buttoned up the back, as he continued to talk to her.

"He is a...very useful vampire...if a bit strange. I think that if he were to team up with someone as strong as my marvelous Willow, he would be quite a potential threat to me. Instead, however, he seems to have a need to take care of someone weak such as yourself. Therefore, should he request it of me, I intend to let him have you."

**Yes!** thought Buffy as a surge of excitement passed through her. She moved to pick up Mary and pulled her close to her chest. A smile began to creep across her face.

"However, there is a problem."

The smile disappeared, **Shit! Now what?** She turned back to find the Master had sat back in the chair, and was finishing his espresso.

"When Spike came to me some time ago he was hunting for a spell to help Drusilla. She was ill you see. So I made an agreement with Spike that if he assisted me with the LA situation, I would obtain and provide a cure for Dru. We had all of the required elements. But then you came and set Angelus free and he had to be 'put down'. No doubt you remember him?"

Buffy did not like where this story was going.

"Unfortunately, this spell required the blood of the Drusilla's Sire in order to work. Angelus. But because of your interference, Angelus was no more. The spell could never be performed. Dru had a sudden turn for the worse and before we could find an alternative spell, she was gone. Because of you."

Buffy felt sick inside, **Oh God no.**

"Because of his service to me, I owe him a debt. You are going to be a part of that payment. You will care for him like you care for Mary, there. But I want you to remember who you serve. Me not him. You will have a job to do and if you fail me, I may decide to inform Spike about your part in Drusilla's death."

He looked at Buffy to be sure she was listening well. Her eyes were fixed upon him. She felt as if she had just been handed the stake that would be used to kill Spike.

"I want you to keep an eye on Spike and, not that I expect him to, if he should ever talk about opposing me, I want you to report it to me. Is that understood Childe?"

"Yes Master," Buffy replied steadily. Inside she was feeling not only extreme pangs of guilt from being, however unintentional, responsible for Drusilla's death, but also, guilt from feeling guilty over a dead vampire. **How typical. My entire existence must be one big cosmic joke. Somebody, somewhere, must really be laughing their celestial ass off at my expense, cause this is sure as Hell too fucked-up a situation to just be a coincidence.**

*****

When Spike returned to the room he found Buffy and the Master waiting for him. At the Master's wave, Buffy moved to get Spike's clothes for him.

"Good evening, Spike," the Master greeted.

"Master," Spike nodded in return. "Had I known you were waiting, I would have been back sooner to be more...properly attired." He took the pants from Buffy, dropped the towel from around his waist and began to pull them on.

"It matters not. I simply wanted to discuss our 'situation' in private,"

"Situation?" Spike asked

"Well a cure is no good for one who is already 'gone', and while a cure is what our original agreement was for, I am not without sympathy for your loss. I am quite willing to modify that original agreement," the Master said magnanimously.

The cold rage that filled Spike burned in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to jump on the bastard and kick the shit out of him. But knew he would not have the time to kill the Master before his personal guards would be in the room, and Buffy was still to weak to be of any use. Instead, he accepted his shirt from Buffy and, being careful to keep a neutral tone of voice, he said, "Since you've brought it up, I do have a request of sorts." With a nod of his head in Buffy's direction, "I want her."

The Master affected a surprised look, "Are you certain? She is such an inferior vampiress, one of my less successful children. I was quite disappointed with the results after I turned her." He let out a sigh, "Yes, she is enjoyable in bed but...you do not need to rush into your decision. Perhaps you would like to wait till later when you've had more time to think about such a choice."

"No," Spike said firmly, "I want her. She intrigues me. I think there is quite a bit of potential there that you have not exploited. My Dru taught me a lot of things, but the first was to never under estimate what an insane vampire can do."

"Of course not," the Master said, "but I wouldn't wish for you to be disappointed in her the way that I was. She may act like Drusilla, but she has no 'gift of sight'. And in this case, her insanity precluded her full development into a Slayer-Vampire."

Spike smiled, "No, but she could be 'trained' to a certain degree. I seem to have quite a bit of free time on my hands these days. She'll be an interesting 'experiment' for me."

The Master smiled and nodded, "Very well. She is yours then, to do with as you please."

*****

Buffy had been sent to gather what few items of clothing she possessed from her room and was instructed to meet Spike in the main hall by the pool tables. He had remained behind with the Master to discuss 'other' matters. As she waited, she busied herself with Mary, blocking out the various vampires around her as they began their evening fun and games with a few unfortunate humans. After waiting for about 45 minutes, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Expecting to find Spike, she looked up with a smile, but instead, she found a vampire dressed like a cowboy.

"Well hey there lil' missy," it was Lyle Gorch. He and his brother Tector had been in town for the last month. This was not the first time that either one of them had approached her. However, they were not on the Master's VIP list of who got to play with the 'Master's Pet'. But that had not damped their pursuit of her during times when he was not around. "Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doin' all by her lonesome? 'Specially when you and me could be havin' a good ol' time in the back of my truck right now?"

**Why waitin' for a really stupid, red-neck, hick of a vampire to come along and treat me like Norma-Jean the Trailer Trash Queen,** she thought sarcastically. Aloud, in a little girl's tone of voice, she simply said, "Waiting."

"Waitin'? Well shoot lil' darlin'. No need to be waitin' any longer. Howzabout you and me goin' someplace a little more private," he said with a leer.

"I'm supposed to wait *here*, and, besides, Mary doesn't want to go with you," Buffy said petulantly while huddling away from the large vamp.

Lyle leaned in towards Buffy and spoke in a low voice, "Well that's OK, darlin'. I ain't all that interested in her." He grabbed her injured left arm and Buffy gasped in pain as he yanked it towards him.

"I don't believe the lady desires to go anywhere with you," Spike's sharply accented voice cut in. "If you wish to keep that hand, I'd advise you to remove it from *my* bird. Mate." The coldness of his voice caused the vampires nearby to quiet down, move away and start making wagers on the impending fight. Lyle slowly turned around to face Spike still holding Buffy's arm in his right hand.

"You lookin' for trouble, mister?" Lyle said with a sneer at Spike.

Spike stepped closer. Lyle was about eight inches taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Spike.

"I am trouble, mate," Spike growled back. "I told you to her go. Are you deaf as well as being dumb and ugly, or do you just like to hide behind women?"

Lyle's eyes widened in shock at the insult and then narrowed into a determined glare. Shoving Buffy away towards the pool tables on the side, he said, "I'm gonna crush you like an armadillo on the freeway at rush hour."

The two opponents moved to circle one another. Hands raised in a defensive posture. Looking for an opening to attack. Lyle made a couple of tentative punches with his right that Spike easily dodged. Spike, however, made no counterattack. Buffy watched as Lyle tensed up, bracing himself for a more serious attack; but when he made his move, Spike was already in motion. Spike leapt into the air, grabbed hold of an overhead beam and lashed out with his steel-toed boots at the larger vampire's face. Lyle's downward swing had left his head exposed, and Spike managed to land three hard kicks on his head before Lyle staggered out of range, hands protectively clutching his head. Spike released his hold on the beam and dropped back down to the floor. Not waiting for the other vampire to recover, Spike pressed his attack with a hard right-left-right combination to Lyle's now unprotected stomach. As Lyle bent forward now holding his stomach, Spike followed up with a hard sweeping kick that sent Lyle to the floor. Before Lyle could move, Spike had delivered a rapid series of hard kicks to his ribs, breaking several of them as the crowd of vampires around roared in approval of the violence.

As Buffy watched admiringly of Spike's technique, she could see where his reputation as a brutally, ruthless fighter had come from. He never gave his opponent a chance to recover if he did not have to. Suddenly, she was distracted as a vampire on her left bumped against her. As she staggered and braced herself against the pool table, she abruptly caught sight of Tector Gorch moving though the crowd behind Spike. He was holding a pool cue and she realized he intended to stake Spike. She wanted to yell a warning but did not think Spike would hear her over the noise of the crowd. Time seemed to slow for her, as she saw Tector step out of the crowd and raise the cue behind Spike's back. She acted on pure instinct. Feeling an object by her hand on the pool table, she scooped up two billiard balls and with all of the speed and strength she could muster, hurled first one then the second at Tector before he could thrust the cue into Spike's back. Tector saw only a black blur as the eight ball sped across the room and struck him on the bridge of his nose, shattering it. As he dropped the cue to clutch at his broken nose the second ball impacted dead center in his crotch. A gasp went up from the crowd, and every male vampire in the crowd who had seen it, flinched and instinctively placed a protective hand over their own crotch area.

If the sound of the first ball hitting and breaking Tector's nose was not enough to alert him, then Tector's scream of pain from the second one was. Spike spun about to find Tector bending over, holding his bleeding nose with one hand and his groin with the other. The pool cue lay on the floor beside him forgotten, while an eight ball and cue ball rolled about on the floor. Without a moment's hesitation, Spike bent down, grabbed the cue and whipped it up across Tector's chin. Tector staggered backwards and Spike moved to his side. Wielding the cue like a baseball bat, Spike swung it at Tector's head with enough force to snap the cue in half. Tector sprawled out on the floor next to his brother. Spinning the half of the pool cue that he still held in his right hand, Spike knelt quickly and snatched up the other half in his left. He then moved to position himself between the two brothers and set the broken tips over their hearts.

Dead silence filled the room as he calmly scanned the room until his eyes found the Master, now seated back in his throne on the stage with Willow again standing by his side. The Master looked inquiringly at Spike.

"Your House, Your Rules," Spike said impassively.

The Master smiled and said, "If you don't mind, I have still some use for them."

With a curt nod Spike, rose up and stepped away from the two prostrate brothers. When he snapped his fingers, Buffy darted over to stand attentively at his side where he handed her the broken pieces of the pool cue. She grasped them in her right hand, her left still holding onto Mary. Spike then bent down to pick up the eight ball and the cue ball, one in each hand. Buffy clenched her teeth at the sight of him holding the two balls in the same fashion as he had in her dream. **Please, don't give them to me,** she prayed. Spike looked at her and arched an eyebrow in a questioning look. Buffy shrugged, looked down at Mary and simply said, "The Master said we were supposed to take care of you, My Lord."

Spike smiled at her, before he turned to face the other vampires. "Is there anyone else who would like to go a round with me?"

Silence greeted his challenge.

"The Master," he announced slowly, calmly and deliberately articulating each word as if he were addressing a group of children, "has given this girl to me. From now on, Buffy now belongs to me and me alone. Is this understood? I do not like to repeat myself, people, and you would not want to see me when I am angry."

A low murmured acknowledgement of his claim to Buffy seemed to satisfy Spike. He turned back to Buffy who was staring at the billiard balls he still held with an odd expression on her face. She seemed to flinch slightly as he raised them towards her, so he moved to set them on a nearby pool table, and took the broken cue stick from her tightly clenched hands. He told her to grab her stuff, and she rapidly move to get her small bag of belongings.

Many eyes followed them as they left the Bronze. Many of the conversations that broke out after they left seemed to center on how Spike had fought without ever letting his demonic face rise, and all agreed that they never, ever wanted to see him when he was angry. At least not when he was angry with them.

On the stage though, two pairs of eyes that had followed Spike and Buffy out simply met in a shared acknowledgement.

Chapter 11

When they had first gotten into the car, Spike had given her a quick look with a finger raised to his lips to indicate for her to remain silent. She had obeyed without any objection, preferring to sit and sadly watch out the windows as they drove through the silent town. There were heaps of garbage everywhere, broken windows fronting empty shops, and steel doors with sliding peephole devices on the few that still were in business. When they passed houses, she sadly saw that many of them had steel shutters on the windows along with steel doors. **They're already living in cages,** she though to herself, **because I failed.** What dismayed her even more was that despite the obvious dangers, she still caught a glimpse of a few humans running about, hiding in the shadows. She was fairly certain that they were humans since there was no longer any need for the vampires to hide. Spike continued to drive until they were again on the outskirts, on the opposite side of town from where the Bronze was located. Buffy was surprised when Spike pulled up to a gate leading to a large estate. She was even more surprised when he reached into the glove box, pulled out a remote and opened the gate with it. Spike drove on to the estate grounds and up to the house there in.

The house was a huge sprawling ranch style affair with an attached four-car garage. There were seven bedrooms, a formal dining room, a breakfast nook in the kitchen, a living room, a den, a study with a library. In the basement there was a theater room, a game room, and an indoor pool. Spike had bought it for a song. Real estate in Sunnydale was a steal, if there was anyone interested in it. Spike had been the first client the agent had known in almost a year who wanted to *buy* property in Sunnydale. He had detailed only three requirements: 1) that it was isolated; 2) that it had an operational, state-of-the-art security system and 3) that all windows were to have the steel shutters installed that were now all the rage.

As he pulled up to the garage, Spike glanced over at Buffy, "Well luv, here we are. Home, sweet home." Buffy started to reply but he held up his hand again, shook his head to indicate for her to wait, and then used the remote to open the garage.

After parking inside the garage, Spike led Buffy to the door where he invited her into the house. It was the first time since becoming a vampire that she had experienced needing to be invited into a home. It was one more bitter reminder of what she had become. What she had lost. What had been taken from her.

The previous owners had left behind many of their larger furnishings. There were a number of packing boxes and crates everywhere. Spike had Buffy leave Mary and her bag in the large den, then led her further into the house to the master bedroom where he began opening a couple of the moving boxes.

Spike pulled out and handed Buffy a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, "Change into this then bring everything to the den." He grabbed a second set of clothes and left the room. When she returned to the den, she found that he had changed his clothes as well. He had spread out the clothing he had been wearing along with the items from her bag, and he was going over them with some type of hand held device. She handed him the dress she had just taken off and, after a brief inspection, he placed everything in a box, including Mary. Without a word, he then carried the box out to the garage.

When he returned, she looked at him quizzically. "Just taking a few precautions, luv," he said, "I wanted to make certain they didn't leave any bugs or other nasty surprises."

"And I thought 'I' was paranoid," Buffy commented.

"I've underestimated the Master once already," he said quickly. "I won't do it again. Especially, where that Willow is concerned. She's entirely too clever and devious for my liking."

"Your right. I didn't mean anything by that," she apologized. "It's just...," she shook her head, "I was stuck there for so long...I don't know... ." She let out a wry chuckle, "I should be dancing with joy right now, you know?"

Spike turned to look at her, "So why aren't you?"

Buffy bit her lip. She thought about telling him what the Master had told her, **Better tell him now,** she thought, **and get it out of the way. Otherwise, it will probably come out at the worst time.** But she was still too uncertain about everything to tell him yet. **Later,** she decided. Looking around the room, she decided to change the subject. "This sure wasn't the sort of place I was expecting to end up at tonight." Buffy wandered about the large den area, wondering what Spike had in all the large crates.

He watched Buffy gaze about the room, "Fancy it, Pet?" He decided not to pursue his previous question, as it was obviously a sore point with her.

"It's beautiful. I haven't lived in a real home for so long," she said wistfully, "and I was wondering what happened to the people who used to live here."

"I don't know, luv. I didn't ask the realtor."

"Your saying this place is yours because you *bought* it? It wasn't abandoned and...and you didn't just...just kill the family, and move in? Not that I'm objecting, but...Why? And why a place like this? And how? No offence, but you don't look like the GQ type vamp, and I'm thinking this seems a tad on the expensive side."

"Yes. Well, considering what I was planning on doing, I didn't want the type of place where I would be expected to go," Spike said. "If I had set up shop in a warehouse, or underground like most vamps, I would have run the risk of some nosy yahoo, coming along and stumbling across what I was going to be doing. Here, I don't have to worry. As for the cost, well my little trip to LA was not just to take down the vamp street gangs. There were a lot of upper crust wankers who didn't think I could touch them." He looked about and shrugged, "To the victor belongs the spoils."

"Why don't you go and take a look around. I need to order some equipment," he looked up at her, "and I think your going to need some other clothes..."

*****

Buffy had wandered around the house for about half an hour while Spike gave orders to someone on his cell phone. She had poked about in a half-hearted interest, but her mind continued to dwell on the bleach blond vampire and her reaction towards him. Soon, she found herself wandering back to the den where Spike sat on the couch by the fire, finishing up his calls.

"Hungry, luv?" Spike asked looking up from his notepad.

Buffy braced herself. She was hungry and had been wondering what she was going to do about it. "I'm not going to kill to feed, Spike. Killing humans may not matter to you," she paused, staring down at the ground as the memory of killing Merrick and the girl after she had first been turned resurfaced, "but it still does to me."

"Relax, pet. No need to get your knickers in a twist. I've got baggies in the fridge, so there's no need for you be fretting about huntin' humans. OK?"

The smile Buffy gave him was the first indication of any real happiness he had seen on her face. She suddenly seemed to brighten and glow. "Thank you," Buffy said with clear relief in her voice, "I...I don't know what to say." A sudden wry, chuckle burst forth from her. "Are you certain you're a vampire. 'Cause you are, to me, without a doubt, an-," she froze as she realized she was about to say 'angel sent from Heaven.' Quickly recovering, she continued, "...answer to my prayers."

Spike was not fooled. The expression on her face had not shifted. She was too good at wearing masks, but he had heard the change in her voice. "What is it, Buffy?" he asked softly. "It's been eating at you all night." He paused as he reflected on what had occurred, "Something happened with the Master before I got back, didn't it?"

Buffy nodded silently and began chewing on her lower lip. "He gave me orders to spy on you for him. Give him a call if you started making any plans against him."

Spike snickered, "Well now, that really shouldn't be a surprise to me seeing as there were a couple o' dozen of his boys down in LA trying to pull a Philby on *Me*. But it seems funny to me that he would think you, a supposed loony, would play the mole for him."

When he saw the blank look Buffy gave him he added, "Spy."

"Oh," Buffy nodded and looked down again.

**What else, girl?** Spike thought. **Come-on, show me I can trust you.**

It was tearing her up inside, the more she discovered about this strange vampire, the more she wanted to protect him from harm. But here she was about to deliver a punch in his gut and hoped he would not kill her...at least not yet. She had figured his anger at the Master and Willow stemmed from the loss of Drusilla's cure, a loss for which she now knew herself to be partly responsible. "Um, what I'm going to tell you...it's going to really piss you off...and uhm, if you want to kill me...you might want to remember I've already asked you to do that after we deal with the Master and Willow." She looked at the ground, took a deep breath, then looked straight into his face, "I'm-responsible-for-releasing-Angelus-and-getting-him-killed-and-therefore-losing-Drusilla's-cure-and-I'm-sorry-but-I-really-didn't-know-that-last-part-until-the-Master-told-me-today."

Spike again surprised her. He did not jump-up, he did not hit her, and he did not yell. Instead he pulled out a cigarette, and lit it up. Buffy waited for the explosion. Instead she heard Spike start to chuckle. When he saw the look that Buffy was giving him, he shook his head and waved at her to sit down. He stopped chuckling when instead of sitting on the couch she sat subserviently on the floor at his feet.

**He did a hell of a job beating her spirit down, and he didn't even know she had one,** Spike thought. Aloud, he said, "He's a right bloody bastard, no doubt about that. Pet, you have nothing to be saying sorry for. I knew the night it happened and I didn't blame you then. You were a Slayer, and you did what you thought you had to do. You had no clue that Dru needed Angelus. Hell if you did, you might have staked him yourself to prevent her from getting the cure, in which case then I might have cause to rip your head off. But you didn't. The Master, on the other hand had Angelus for two years, and, according to my sources, he knew of the cure two weeks after we made our agreement, and he lied to me!" His voice seemed to get colder, angrier, "He let Dru *suffer* for a year, feeding us just enough tidbits of information in order to string us along, waiting for me to finish in LA because he didn't trust me. Didn't believe that, once Dru was well, I would FINISH HIS FUCKING JOB!" He jumped up and started pacing, trying to keep control, but now that he had finally started venting his rage, it seemed impossible to stop. His demon face emerged as Spike began to angrily mutter and growl about how every month he had asked what their research had uncovered, only to be told that it was 'showing great promise' and that the Master 'was positive Willow would have it soon.'

While Spike paced back and forth, Buffy was again trying to resolve her emotions. She was relieved to find he did not blame her and confused as to why it should matter so much to her. Watching and listening to him, she stood up and moved to stand in his path as he turned around. Spike stopped abruptly when he found Buffy right it front of him. With a sad look on her face, she reached out to stroke the ridges on his forehead. Spike's growling slowly eased and then stopped as he stared at her. Then she startled Spike by moving closer, sliding her arms around him and hugging him. She made no sound, she simply held him. Spike allowed himself to take comfort from the embrace, his human face once more emerging as he slowly placed his own arms about the girl and pulled her close. His rage, which had seemed ready to burst forth and drive him out into the streets in search of someone to slaughter, slowly seemed to evaporate. The few minutes of calm silence was disrupted by a sudden growling noise from Buffy's stomach.

Buffy ducked her head, embarrassed. "Uhm, you were saying something about food?"

*****

Over the next four days, Spike had Buffy do nothing except feed and exercise. Spike refused to make any comment to her about what she was doing, right or wrong. He would simply watch her move through her practice routines and take notes. Although it had been six months, she still remembered most of her training. Merrick had taught her or had others teach her as many fighting techniques as possible: Aikido, Boxing, Fencing, Karate, Kenpo, Kickboxing, Kung fu, Judo, Jiu-jitsu the list went on. Spike watched with some interest at the mishmash of styles and techniques she displayed. It was not quite the normal Slayer textbook training. Spike wondered about why her Watcher had spent so much time with so many different styles. The two slayers he had killed had shown only a textbook style of fighting. Not this girl. But for all her knowledge of different styles, her skill had not been enough to defeat the Master. Spike had never seen the Master fight, but his age and reputation was enough to prove he had an impressive knowledge of fighting techniques. His age also gave him an increased strength and speed that Buffy would need to match. But six months on a restrictive diet had left a definite impression upon her.

Spike was certain that her strength would return with time and feeding. Whether they had the time was one thing that worried him. The Master was planning on having a 'Celebration Coronation' in LA in two and a half months. It was a party that would mark the third anniversary of his escape from the Hellmouth. It was a party that Spike intended to crash, and then burn everything to the ground.

Spike was also concerned about her reflexive speed. Precise and powerful techniques would not be enough in the coming showdown. She had to develop her abilities to be able to react with lightning speed and to respond with the proper defense to an attack. As a slayer, her speed and strength had been a match for most vampires due to her genetic make-up, but as a vampire, her demon should have given her the ability to surpass any and every vampire on the planet.

When some of the equipment Spike had ordered arrived, Buffy began weight training and gymnastics, and soon her strength began to show its return. Spike began working out with her and sparing with her. He quickly and easily took her down time after time. But each time she would get up and face him again. They would fight hand-to-hand and using swords, Bo sticks, staffs, daggers, etc... After two weeks, he was pleased when she was able to stand against him for between twenty and thirty minutes. However, she had yet to defeat him once, and this gave him a great deal of trepidation. He took to occasionally watching her when she slept. Buffy never knew when she would wake from a nightmare and find him there. Sometimes awake. Sometimes asleep. Sitting in the chair at the side of her bed.

It occurred to him that a part of the problem might be that Buffy's soul was keeping her demon in check. She did not take advantage of the additional speed and strength the demon could have given her because she would not release her control over her demon. Spike needed to break her down enough to get her to let her demon out a little, and beating her would not do it.

One night an idea occurred to him. It was a cruel idea and she would really be pissed at him. He made a phone call and began ordering what he would need. Two days later, Buffy awoke to the sound of an electric saw coming from the living room. When she came out of her room to investigate she was surprised to find Spike in the living room installing a doorframe in front of the wall alcove that housed the stereo equipment. When she inquired as to what he was doing he told her nothing except that her workout music would be on hold for a few hours and to go put on her 'weight suit' and begin jogging.

Buffy sighed and went off to change. She hated the 'weight suit'. It was bulky, and lined with lead pellets. A lot of lead pellets. The first time she had put it on, Spike had casually pushed her into the swimming pool. Undead though she was, Buffy's first reaction was to panic, attempt to swim and scrambled to avoid drowning. However, after a minute or two, she had realized the stupidity of what she was doing. She allowed herself to sink to the bottom of the pool where she let her eyes shift and discovered that her underwater sight improved while she wore her demon face. Turning around, she found Spike waiting for her wearing nothing but his Speedo's, a pair of weighted boots and a grin. He held out a foil to her, and she spent the next half-hour fencing with him. While Spike hardly moved, Buffy was never able to touch him with her weapon, whereas Spike managed to score her several times, leaving nasty cuts on her arms, legs and three small holes near her heart. Buffy had wanted to grumble about the awkwardness of wearing the suit but instead, said nothing. Spike had gently treated her wounds, as he always did, meanwhile telling her that periodically she would perform her workouts whilst wearing the suit and that as she grew stronger, more weight would be added.

Walking into the living room she was surprised to find a steel door installed in front of where the stereo alcove had been. When she went to open it she found there was no handle, only a lock.

"Did you need something, Buffy?" Spike asked as he walked into the room. Buffy looked over at Spike. The tone off his voice set off little warning bells. He was up to something.

"Uh, yeah. I wanted to change the channel, this music isn't exactly that great to workout to. Fact is, it sucks. Big time. So can I, like, change the channel? And why is there a door here now, anyway?" she asked peevishly.

Spike smiled and pulled a long chain out of his pocket with a key at the end. Looking calmly at the key, he spoke, "Well, pet. It's like this. We're going to have a little competition, and the winner will get to decide what gets played. See? I've beaten you every time we've fought love. So I've decide to have this selection played."

Buffy stared at him in shock, "I thought you only listen to punk! You...You *like* this...this...this *crap*?"

Spike let out a sharp laugh and waved his hand, "Oh Gods no girl! No, no. I have no intention of listening to this."

Buffy let out a sigh of relief, "Good, you had me worried there that you might actually like this.

Then Spike pulled out a portable CD player with earplugs. "That's what I've got this for." Buffy's face fell. "No girl, *You* are going to listen to this."

"WHAT! WHY?!" she yelled out.

"Because," Spike said slowly and patiently explained as if to a child, "I won, so I choose what gets played. When you defeat me, you can take the key and change the CD. Until then, this gets played. Continuously."

Buffy stared with her mouth open.

*****

Buffy lay in her bed. It was three in the afternoon. She should have been asleep, but the accursed music was still playing through her speakers. She could have ripped them out of the walls, but she had agreed not to after Spike had threatened to chain her up at nights after she had punched out the first set of speakers. "The key is your objective," Spike had chided her, "not destroying my home."

So she lay there. Wide-awake. Agitated. Frustrated. Pissed.

It had been eight days since Spike had started this torture. She had shrugged it off initially, figuring he would drop it after a few days when he saw it was having no effect on her. But it was having an effect. By the third day she had taken back every nice thing she had ever thought about him. By the fourth day she was constantly swearing and cursing at him. Spike just smiled and went about listening to his own CD. That infuriated her, and she began losing her temper during their sparing sessions, which in turn allowed Spike to defeat her even more easily.

After wasting two days, Buffy realized that she wasn't getting anywhere, and started controlling her anger. Still, she knew she needed to get that damn key and soon. So on the seventh day she tried to sneak into his room to steal it.

He had been waiting for her.

With a Tazer gun.

It had taken her an hour to shake off the effects of that encounter.

So. Here she was. In the dark.

Exhausted and unable to sleep.

**This is ridiculous," she thought to herself. **Why can't I defeat him?**

**Because, your fighting me, Golden Girl,** said her demon.

**Shut-up,** Buffy snapped. **I don't need you. I can do this with out you. I did it before.**

**And look where that got you,** countered the demon.

**What do you want?,** Buffy asked exasperated and was instantly sorry that she did as hundreds of images flashed through her mind of death and misery and herself on a throne. **No! Stop it! God damn it, you know what I mean!**

An evil chuckle and then Buffy found herself standing in a circle of light in a large empty room. It seemed almost like a warehouse but she couldn't tell because the light didn't illuminate far beyond her circle. And that damned music was still playing.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Your dreaming, you idiot," came her voice from the shadows. "Am I going to have to spell everything out? 'Cause we don't have the time." Buffy watched as a figure that looked like her, except it wore a vampire's face. It was her Demon. It was also wearing an outfit that belonged to Willow. "Hey don't blame me for looking like this, it's your dream." The demon did a quick perusal of her outfit and gave Buffy a twisted smile, "The Bitch knows what she looks good in, but it ain't really us. Ya know? I think we'd look better in a leather mini and a little shear halter-top deal. Think you could whip that up for me instead?"

"That's it. I have finally gone insane," Buffy grumbled.

"No, but if you want I can help there. Sure, I didn't enjoy our time with Willow, but some of the things we did to get away from her were fun," the demon grinned at the memories.

"Great. My inner vamp is really a Ho," muttered Buffy darkly.

"'Sticks and stones, will break *Your* bones,'" the demon sang back at her. "Just because I don't suffer from your shame and guilt, there no need to resort to name calling. K?"

"Look, what is this about?" Buffy hissed.

"This is about me wanting you to quit dressing me up in Willow's clothes," the demon replied. "This is about you realizing that I'm not her. Lastly, this is about how I'm not going help you get us dusted."

"In the words of...," Buffy paused as she drew a blank, "somebody, 'What you talkin' 'bout, Willis?'"

The demon sighed, "I don't intend to die, Soul Girl. I've got too much I want to do, including a certain hunky, blonde vampire who, I know, gets you all hot and bothered."

"And your gonna stop me, how?" Buffy asked, ignoring the comment.

"By doing nothing, deary, nothing at all," said the demon, as she pulled out a nail file and began filing her nails. "Spike wants us to be a Slayer-Vamp to help him when he's kickin' some ass. If you can't defeat Spike, your are not going to be of any help to him against *our Sire*. At least, not in time for the ceremony. Unless I help."

"I don't need *you*," Buffy repeated.

"You just keep on saying that," the demon said with a smug grin. "Maybe if you keep repeating it, you'll convince yourself. Remember Merrick?"

"Of course I do. I killed him," Buffy replied bitterly.

"Correction, we killed him," if it was possible the demon's smirk grew wider. "It's just that I enjoyed it. But that wasn't the point. Remember your promise to him? 'I'll make them pay, Merrick. I swear it.' So what's more important to you? Your 'I-can-do-it-by-myself' pride or your promise?"

Buffy said nothing.

"Look, I'm gonna admit it," said the demon, "I got a kick out of your suffering when I first got here. 'Specially since I never got the chance to have any fun. But it got old real fast, ya know? I'm not a masochist and when Willow was hurting you, she was also hurting me. That and your constant whining and moaning about 'Why me?' and -" noticing Buffy's glare the demon chuckled.

"Anyway, for the most part, I like the way we've been living the last month, this Spike, he knows what's-the-what, see? And I've been thinking he might want some company after all this is done. You've done a real smooth job with the comforting shoulder crap. You're in a prime position to take over for his lost ladylove."

"Will you *please* get to the point?" Buffy said in exasperation.

"OK. Here's the deal: I help you with your abilities so you can take down Willow and our beloved Sire, and in return you keep us alive and, periodically, I get to have control of our body and have a little fun. You tell Spike, you're releasing him from his oath, and we'll take it from there."

Buffy shook her head, "I won't let you kill humans."

Demon-Buffy cocked her head, "Why not? You're gonna want to kill demons because they kill humans. What about humans who kill humans? What about child molesters? What about rapists? Think humans are better than demons? How about all of the wonderful ways humans have devised to 'love thy neighbor'? Holy wars, the inquisition, concentration camps, genocide, ethnic cleansings... It's a long fucking list."

"I don't care," Buffy backed away. She knew the minimal amount of sleep was having its toll on her mind, but everything was sounding so...reasonable. "You...You're trying to confuse me."

"Too late," said the demon sarcastically. "But, I'm willing to compromise," it said with a sigh. "We'll just leave the issue of killing people to another time. Maybe it would be best just to take these things on a case-by-case basis."

"No," Buffy insisted. "No killing people. No torturing people. No 'I'm gonna be Queen of the World' bullshit!"

Demon-Buffy stuck out its lower lip in a pout and said, "Spoil my fun." It quickly switched back to a smile, "Look I told you. I'm not Willow. I'm a part of you. You *can't* do it without me."

Buffy spun about and put her hands over her ears. She was confused. She knew the demon was lying to her, she could sense it. Just like she could tell when Spike had made his offer, he had been honest with her. He had believed she could be the most powerful vampire and that had scared her. It had been strange hearing someone again say they believed in her, in what she could do. **He's wrong, of course. Just like Merrick was wrong and look were that got him.**

Merrick's face seemed to flash before her. Unexpectedly, she remembered something she had forgotten. She had made another promise to Merrick, before she had killed him. His voice seemed to drift back to her, "...promise me you will never give up... you must continue the fight...the world desperately needs your help...you've been given this chance to help her by a miracle of God. And miracles seem to be in short supply these days." Buffy felt as if she were suddenly hit by a bucket of ice water.

It was a simple but essential factor to any warrior who sought to do battle. And with all that she had gone through, she had forgotten it. No, it was more than that. Spike had said it to her, but she hadn't listened. She had ignored it. Blocked it. She failed because, deep inside, she did not believe she could succeed. **I never used to doubt myself before.**

Buffy dropped her hands from her ears, straightened up and turned to face the demon with her face.

It wasn't smiling anymore. It looked worried.

Buffy smiled. "So. I can't do *it* without you, eh?"

The demon looked even more worried. The demon started to back-up.

Buffy let her teeth show with a big smile before saying, "Where do you think your going?"

*****

Spike arose around seven in the evening. He'd had no trouble sleeping as the speakers in his room were turned off. Turning on his portable CD player before he left the room, he strolled out to the kitchen expecting to find a brassed-off Buffy eating and glowering at him.

She wasn't there.

Spike sighed and went to get her out of bed. He was surprised to find she was not there. Curious, he ventured down to the game room in the basement and found her already hard at work moving through her routines.

"Evening, Luv. Sleep well?" he asked with a cocky grin. She did nothing but indicate that she was ready fight if he was. Spike nodded and removed his CD player and inserted a pair of earplugs. He stretched a little before taking a fighting stance opposite her.

Spike made the first attack with a roundhouse kick, followed by two swift back kicks. Buffy dodged and blocked them then returned to her ready stance. Spike attacked again, this time with a flurry of sharp hard punches that Buffy again managed to deflect or dodge. When Spike moved in close to grapple with her, she seemed to just slip out of his grasp and dance away. Spike snatched up a quarter-staff off of the ground and swung in an attack. Buffy dodged with a back flip then continued with two more flips until she was near the far wall where she grabbed another quarter-staff.

"Tricky, pet. But a little showy. Don't you think you should be saving that energy for the fight?"

Buffy said nothing. She held the staff in her right hand and rested it along her right arm and over her shoulder. Her left hand she stretched out toward Spike and curled her fingers to indicate for him to 'Bring it on'.

As Spike advanced he began spinning his staff. Buffy countered by setting her own staff in a spinning motion. Spike stopped in front of Buffy watching her intently, but she gave no indication as to what she was planning. Suddenly, Spike stopped spinning his staff as he swung it down towards Buffy's head. With a sharp *CRACK*, Buffy's staff moved to block Spike's. Spike began striking out with his staff at Buffy - high, low, low, left, left, right, low, low, low, high. Buffy moved to block each blow with her own staff. After about five minutes, Spike realized that Buffy had yet to make a single attack. He backed off towards the middle of the room.

"What's up, Luv? Not feeling quite up to it." **Where's that fire I saw before, Luv?** he thought. In an arrogant manner, he dropped his staff and stood with his hands on his hips. "Tell you what. I'll give you a chance. Hit me with your best shot."

Buffy smiled and began to advance. When she was about five feet from him, she suddenly planted her staff firmly on the ground and swung herself in the air, with her feet heading for Spike's head.

Spike had seen it coming. The girl's body signals had all but shouted out what she was going to do. He raised his arms to block her feet...which were not there anymore. Somehow the girl had managed to twist herself at the last second and move her feet to kick him in his unprotected chest. Hard.

Spike flew backwards for about fifteen feet before the wall stopped his flight. Stunned, Spike struggled to get up. A single thought, **What the fu-,** managed to cross his mind just before her fist connected with his face and scattered the rest.

Spike's demon tried to rise and defend itself, but the fight was already over. Three more blows and he was unconscious.

Buffy stood with a smile on her face. Then she bent over and removed the key from around his neck. Leaving Spike where he lay, she danced up the stairs, and skipped up to the steel door. Unlocking the door, she yanked it open and hit the 'Off' button on the CD player. She sighed with blissful relief as silence descended for the first time in eight days.

"MMMBop this, you little shitheads," Buffy snarled.

She punched the open button and the CD player ejected the shelf which held the hated disc. With a disgusted look on her face, she picked up the accursed CD and raised it up to look at it before snapping it in half. As she stared at the prismatic effect of the light across the back of the CD, however, she paused when she saw the box that it along with 9 other CD's had come in, sitting on top of the player. She flipped the box around to look at the titles, and began to smile again.

*****

Spike groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He felt a cool hand gently stroking his cheek, and heard a soft voice talking to him. "Come on Spike. Wakey-wakey...That's it...easy now...don't move too fast." Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw Buffy hovering over him with a grin on her face. "Hi," she said.

"What happened," Spike asked as various points on his body began to inform him that he had been hurt.

Memory returned. "Finally got in touch with your inner vamp, eh pet? Knew you had it in ya. Damn, I'm good." He tried to sit up, struggled for a second then let out a groan and slumped back to the floor. "Maybe a little too good."

Buffy smiled at his words and decided not to debate what he had said. **Besides,** she thought, **it is true, in a way.** Her smile grew slightly as she thought she heard the faint sound of someone muttering **Bitch** inside her head.

She leaned forward, and gently placed a soft kiss on Spike's lips.

"Thank you," she murmured as she pulled back to look at his surprised face. "You've helped me find my faith in myself again."

"Sure thing, Luv. Anytime." Spike relaxed figuring he really didn't need to get up too soon, "Just give me a day or two."

"Here, this'll help you," Buffy said, holding a straw to his lips. Spike tasted the warm blood and slowly drank the whole bag as Buffy sat and watched him. When he finished, she took the bag and placed it in the wastebasket. She moved back to sit on the floor beside his head. Her hand returned to stroking the side of his cheek. Spike sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on blotting out the pain as he drew comfort from her touch.

"Spike." she said finally.

"Yes, Buffy?" he asked, looking up at her.

"You remember your Oath to me?"

Spike felt himself grow suddenly cold. But he has agreed. **It's such a waste!** he wanted to scream.

"Yes, Buffy," he sighed closing his eyes in resignation.

"I'm releasing you from it..."

Spike eyes snapped open. She was looking at him with a very serious expression on her face.

"...in exchange for another."

Spike nodded, bracing for what she wanted now.

Buffy leaned close to stare directly into his eyes. "If I ever, *ever* lose my soul... if I start torturing and murdering people...if you ever see me turning into the type of vampire that...that...that Willow is...then you will do anything and everything to kill me, as soon as you possibly can. This is what I want you to promise me."

Spike felt as if a weight had been lifted. He felt an irrational surge of joy and tried to repress the sudden urge to smile. He raised his right hand to cup her cheek and told her, "That I can do. Without reservation." He moved his right hand to his mouth and bit into the palm. Buffy did the same and then they clasped their bleeding palms together.

Buffy spoke first, "I, Buffy Anne Summers, release William Darrow from his past Oath to me, in exchange for a new."

Spike responded with his vow, "I, William Darrow, vow to enforce this Oath: Should the vampire Buffy Anne Summers lose her soul and seek to harm humanity or achieve dominion over it, I will, faithfully and without hesitation, seek out and execute her. Even at the cost of my own existence."

Together they spoke, "Of my own free will and with my Blood, I accept the Binding of this Oath."

They were each reluctant to break the silence that fell between them after finishing their oath. Instead, they stayed there, for several minutes. Looking into each other's eyes. Not moving. Hands still clasped together. Buffy finally noticed when a drop of blood leaked out from their palms and dripped onto her leg.

"Whoops. Oh, yuck. Maybe I should have gotten a towel first?" she said rising up and moving to get a towel. While her back was to him, Spike raised his hand to look at his palm, then licked at the blood on it. He smiled at the taste of it.

"Here you go," Buffy said as she returned with a small towel for him to bind his bleeding hand. Spike moved to get up and managed to stand without falling down. Buffy moved to grab his arm, but he waved her off. By the time he made it upstairs to the couch he was feeling better except for the bruises. And the cracked sternum. And the fracture on the back of his head.

"Can I get you anything?" Buffy asked in a deceptively sweet tone of voice. "More blood, coffee, cocoa...?" She leaned forward eyes wide, fluttering her eyelids at him.

"Not a thing, Luv," he said, wondering what was up.

Music began to suddenly play and Spike's head jerked up in recognition and he stared in horror just as Buffy closed and locked the door.

/So many nights I'd sit by my window/

/Waiting for someone to sing me his song/

"No way!" he shouted and tried to jump up, "No fuckin' way!" A wave of dizziness from moving too rapidly stopped him from getting up.

/So many dreams I kept deep inside me/

/Alone in the dark but now you've come along/

Buffy turned and looked at him with an innocent expression on her face. "But Spike, I won the fight. So I get to choose the music."

/And you light up my life/

/You give me hope to carry on/

/You light up my days and fill my nights with song/

"I thought you weren't into torturing people, Luv," he pleaded.

"That's correct-amundo," she said with that irritating perky voice. "No torturing people...people meaning human beings. You don't qualify. Besides you should be happy, I've decided to give you a little variety."

"What else?" he asked with dread.

"Well, besides this lovely tune from the '70's, we have from the '80's Diana Ross and Lionel Richey with 'Endless Love' and from the '90's Areosmith's 'I Don't Want to Miss a Thing'. Enjoy!" she smiled at him as she lifted her hand to display the earplugs she had lifted from his pockets before inserting them in her ears and bouncing off to the kitchen.

Slumping back in the couch, Spike let out a groan. He knew this would could back and hurt him somehow. **Fuck it. I can hold out. She did.**

He sat there as the music played on.

He really was in a lot of pain.

He was also feeling incredibly proud and happy. Even this hideous music couldn't squelch that.

At least for an hour or so.

*****

Chapter 12

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

Feb 28, 1996

Something odd has happened.

After living in the sewers and back alleys of New York for years, the vampire Angelus has moved to a small town in California by the name of Sunnydale. I do not know what has brought this sudden change on. It began in early January, when without warning he disappeared from New York. Grandmother's tracking spell enabled me to following him first to LA where he stayed for a week and then up to this town where he has apparently taken up residence.

He has dramatically changed his appearance, so much so, that at first I did not recognize him. When I finally realized that the wretched creature that I had watched for years in New York was suddenly cleaned up and looking extremely handsome. I immediately feared that the curse had somehow been broken, and that he was stalking people again. However, the orb that Aunt Tatiana gave me continues to glow indicating that he still carries his soul. What he is doing here, I do not know, but he has taken up residence in an apartment. He seems to be waiting for someone or something.

*

*

March 10, 1996

I have obtained a job at Sunnydale High School as a computer teacher. It was surprisingly easy. They assured me that my lack of a California Teaching license could be remedied over the summer.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles, Watcher.

June 30, 1996

London, England

The Watcher's Council has request that I assist them by taking a long term position in a town named Sunnydale in the States. In California. I am to monitor the situation and make recommendations as to the need for the Slayer. They have arranged for me, a position as Head Librarian at the local high school.

*

*

Sept 10, 1996

Sunnydale, California

I have only been here a week, and a terrible slaughter has occurred last night in a local club known as 'The Bronze'. Local authorities have tried to cover-up what has occurred but with so many dead...there is no doubt in my mind that it was the work of vampires, but I have never heard of so blatant and public attack as this. I have advised the Council of what has occurred and requested the presence of the Slayer to oppose whatever dark force has come to this town...

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

Sept 24, 1996

The new school year began today. Everyone is still in shock and upset over the massacre at the Bronze just two weeks ago. The media has moved on to other stories as the police simply keep repeating the same tired story of a gang disputed gone tragically out of hand. I suspect there was more, but doubt that the Sunnydale PD will ever catch or convict anyone for this horrible crime. The victims were buried as fast as possible. Almost as if the faster we bury them the faster this story will go away. Many of them were students from this high school. A few I even knew.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles.

Oct 30, 1996

There has been surprisingly few incidents since the attack on the Bronze. Perhaps it was 'gang related' as the police have classified it. But I doubt it. I believe that there is something in this area which draws evil things to it. I have been researching this town's history and have discovered and astonishing number of incidents that may have been paranormal related. In fact, the early Spanish settlers' original name for this area is 'El Bocca del Inferno' or 'The Mouth of Hell'. If this 'Hellmouth' is the source of the mystical energies that draws the creatures here, I believe the Slayer is most definitely needed here. However, the Council seems to be dragging their feet about sending her here. I shall gather all the reports that I can and pass them on. Hopefully, that will get them to act.

****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

Nov 23, 1996

I was nearly caught by a vampire two nights ago only to be rescued by of all people, Rupert Giles. He is the librarian at the high school where I work. I confess I have never taken the time to get to know him at school. During the faculty meetings, he had always struck me as an arrogant and pompous English snob. I had wondered what he was doing in Sunnydale. I hacked into the personnel files and discovered that he had worked as a curator to The British Museum. 'Quite a step down, he must have screwed up royally to have been forced to take such a lowly position amongst us colonists,' I assumed. Boy am I an idiot. As it turns out, I'm the one who has been a snob. He hasn't confided in me yet, big surprise, but I now know he is here because of the vampires. Though as one man, what he expects to do... mild mannered Liberian by day, fearless vampire hunter by night. I have invited him over for a Thanksgiving dinner. He tried to say no but I sort of bullied him in to it. He spends too much time alone in that library as it is...

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles.

Nov 30, 1996

Still no word from the Council. On the plus side. The vampire activities remain low. I have manage to hunt down and kill a few myself. Risky, yes, but I just cannot sit by and do nothing. It has had one positive result. I rescued a Miss Jenny Calender, a computer teacher at Sunnydale HS, from a vampire. Although she was shaken, she seemed remarkably calm for someone who had just seen a mythical demon for, what I supposed to be, the first time. In a rather forward, yet typical American manner, she invited me over for a holiday dinner. Out of curiosity, I attended and found her to be both a rather charming and intriguing woman. Although she evaded my tentative inquires, I believe that she knows much more about vampires than she has let on. I also believe that I may have found an ally to assist me in my research.

She has asked me out on yet another date. To what the Americans call a football game.

*

*

April 5, 1997

We have another ally. Despite her somewhat explosive temper, Catherine Madison has been exceedingly useful in our fight against the vampires. From talking with Oz who has grown somewhat close to her daughter Amy, I am aware that she and her mother have had some difficulties in the past. Amy blamed Catherine for driving off her father. Her mother was so hurt and embittered by his departure that she sought to mold Amy in her image to somehow relive her glory years as a cheerleader. However, with the rise of the vampire threat, and the cancellation of nighttime sports and therefore cheerleading, they appear to have patched up their differences. Or at least discovered a useful outlet to vent her anger.

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

May 22, 1997

School is has ended for this year. A slow steady increase in the number of dead and vanished people has occurred all year. I have not seen Angelus all year, though I know where he is staying. Perhaps I should say being held. In the past, he has always avoided his kind, due to his soul. But there is a large force of vampires inhabiting the building where he is. But then, why haven't the other vampires killed him? I don't believe he has lost his soul as he surely would have made an appearance on the street. The thought that has filled me worried is that the other vampires are attempting to remove his soul in order to regain Angelus, The Scourge of Europe.

I am leaving Sunnydale next week next week in order to talk to the Elders in person. I shall be happy to get out of this town for a while. Although, I will miss Rupert.

*

*

Sept 2, 1997

I have returned to Sunnydale with news for Rupert. The vampires are increasing everywhere. It's just that nobody wishes to talk about. As if they think that by not believing, they will go away. I spent the summer scanning as many scrolls, texts, and family diaries into my laptop as I could. The Elder's of several clans have banded together and have ordered everyone to search and gather as many ancient texts as they could find. They are looking for spells to protect the families. Trouble is, many of the texts that have been found are still useless, since they have been written in a language now forgotten. I hope that perhaps Rupert might be able to help me with their translation. But he will hate the fact that I only have copies on my computer.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles, Watcher

March 29, 1998

Jenny is quite upset over a discovery she has made regarding the curse on the vampire Angelus. It seems the curse was designed to end should he experience a single moment of true happiness. Revenge was the motivation, but it was foolish shortsightedness that would allow such a creature to be free to roam the earth without the curse rather than let him be happy again. I have read some of the old watcher's diaries and he was truly a horrific beast. Jenny intends to research and try to modify the spell. She is convinced that The Master would like to break the spell and that is why they have not killed him.

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

June 3, 1998

Another school year over. I am returning to my family, again to see what more they have found. Rupert will continue to remain here, doing what he can to help, waiting for this Watcher's Council of his to send the Slayer out here for a even a few days.

I am so afraid that I will never see him again.

*

*

Aug 15, 1998

I am not returning to Sunnydale. When I return to my family I found them organizing in preparation of going into hiding. When I was finally able to get in touch with Rupert, he said I should stay away from Sunnydale. The vampires have now seized control of an army storage depot, a night club called the Bronze and several other spots. An attempt to attack them by the towns people resulted in a slaughter. I was shocked. I had heard nothing about it on the news. I shouldn't have been. Most people still don't know what is going on, and the government wants to keep it that way. I wanted to beg him to come with us, but I knew his answer would be 'No'. He told me once about his father lecturing him on responsibility and sacrifice. Until now, I never really believed that line about boys growing up and becoming their fathers.

I pray every night now for the Goddess to watch over and protect him.

*

*

Jan 8, 1999

I am racing to get back to Sunnydale in time. The orb went dark sometime last night. Angelus is free of the curse. I shall attempt to re-curse him but I must get close enough. I am flying to LA and I should arrive about noon. I will then drive to Sunnydale. I should get there by 3 PM. Leaving me 2 hours to get Rupert to help me cast the spell before nightfall. Although, I haven't spoken to him since August I know he is still there. It's strange. The past few months that I've been with my family, with the people I grew up amongst and have known all my life, I have felt like a stranger. Knowing that Rupert is in Sunnydale, I feel like I am coming home.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles, Watcher

Jan 10, 1999

So much has happened these past few days. Nancy and Larry are dead. The Slayer, a Miss Summers, is probably dead as well. The only good news for me is that Jenny has safely returned, and however much I wish she was safe somewhere else, I am extremely happy to see her after almost 6 months. It began three days ago. We had rescued a student, one Cordelia Chase...

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

Jan 9, 1999

The vampire Angelus is dead. I will write my family. My duty to them is over.

I am staying with Rupert.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles, Watcher

Feb 15, 1999

Despite the crowding, I have asked Oz to stay in my apartment with Jenny and myself. He has family, but they have left town. I believe he stayed behind due to his feelings of guilt about escaping when Larry died.

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender

March 14, 1999

I am to be married in less than a week. Rupert proposed to me and I accepted on the condition that it be as soon as possible. We have settled on the first day of Spring as hopefully an auspicious date.

I have received two of the strangest messages yet from Brother Luca today: 'The Warrior of Rings is being forged in the Vale of the Sun' and 'The balance shall be restored if the bearded Lord of the House of Downy saves the Warrior of Rings.'

The reference to the 'Vale of the Sun' Rupert says is possibly Sunnydale but we do not know who the 'Lord of the House of Downy' is. There are or were four families of that name in town according to the phone book.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles

March 20, 1999

Jenny and I were married today, the first day of Spring. It was a small ceremony. Actually it was two small ceremonies. Father Gregory Stone conducted the first ceremony in the format of that given by the Church of England. The second, a Wiccan ceremony, was performed in the park at noon, rather than at night. Catherine Madison who leads the local witches' coven, officiated this ceremony as a favor to Jenny.

*****

From the Diary of Jenny Calender-Giles

April 23, 1999

I am kicking myself. Amy was over visiting with Oz, and they were poking about on the web when Amy giggled, turned to me and asked how it felt to be 'Mrs. Downy-Bearded'. When I asked what she was talking about, she pointed to the web site she was looked at which posted the meaning of old English names. Apparently, one of the meanings of Giles is 'downey-bearded'. If I ever do see Brother Luca in person, I have this incredible urge to beat him with my laptop. Now, if we can just figure out who is this 'Warrior of Rings'. I asked Amy and she said it sounded vaguely familiar and she would ask her mother.

*****

From the Journal of Rupert Giles

May 11, 1999

It is confirmed, Jenny is pregnant. I am thrilled and terrified at the same time. I want to take her and flee to someplace safe, but I don't know where that might be. Jenny is also insistent that I am somehow needed here, in this place, to help the one referred to as "The Warrior of Rings". A side note, Mayor Wilkins has disappeared.

*

*

June 11, 1999

The vampires have burnt down our apartment complex. I have lost many of my texts and Jenny's computer was destroyed during the fight with the vampires. While some of her files were stored on a 'diskette(?)' at the library, she has lost many of her families scrolls and spells that she had copied into it. Father Stone has helped by placing us in contact with a Mrs. Amber Johnson. Her own husband was killed late last year. At the urging of Father Stone, she had opened her very large home to provide shelter for several of the orphaned children and forgotten elderly of this town. The children were able to hide when their families were attacked, and the vampires do not care to eat the elderly when there are better pickings more easily available. Except to torment. Including her daughter Harmony, there are 34 of us living here...

*

*

June 30, 1999

We have discovered the reason for the disappearance of several of our S&R teams. I have in the past related how we have rescued several potential victims from by hitting the transport vans the vampires were using as cattle cars. But after three teams disappeared over two nights, I asked Oz to follow, remain in the shadows and report back on what happened. The team had come across a van full of prisoners and moved in to free them. But when they opened the locked doors, instead of 'prisoner's' there was a group of vampires who attacked and overwhelmed the team within seconds.

Last night when we found a van, instead of releasing the 'prisoners', we sprayed holy water through a crack in the wall. When we heard screams confirming that the 'prisoners' were really vampires, Oz lit a pipe bomb next to the truck's gas tank before any vampires could breakout.

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

Rupert Giles looked up from his Journal and scanned for a crucifix, when the young boy entered the room. It was practically an autonomic reaction now. Like breathing. If he had not been able to see a cross touching the boy's skin, he would have had the crossbow that now rested in his lap aimed at the boy's heart ready to fire, until he had proven himself human. Despite the wards and other protections on his house, paranoia was the best defense, and children were just as likely to become vampires as adults.

"It's eight o'clock," the boy said quietly. Giles rose up, moved to his pregnant wife on the couch and bent to kiss her goodbye.

"I love you, Jenny," he said.

"I love you too. Please, be careful, Rupert," she replied, knowing it was useless to protest his leaving. It was his night to lead the search-and-rescue team. The futility of such excursions was never raised. Everyone knew they were fighting a losing battle. But they continued to fight: some because they refused to go quietly; others simply because they were too stubborn; a few because they refused to give up hope. Rupert was one of those few, or at least he had been a few months ago. Jenny was concerned that his worrying about the future for her and the child she carried was wearing on him, diminishing the light that had once shown so brightly in his eyes.

He nodded and turned to leave. Jenny remained sitting on the couch. The others in the house would come by to check on her soon and find her, as always sitting with a crossbow to her right, a set of Tarot cards to her left. But she would be gazing at neither, looking instead at her belly, and wondering about the child growing within her. Contemplating whether she had done the right thing by not getting an abortion, when she still could. Wondering what right she had to bring a child into this world of darkness and fear that she now lived in. Wondering if there would even be that much left by the time the child was born.

*****

Spike watched Buffy as she slept.

It had been almost 2 weeks since Buffy, had first managed to defeat him. Spike had subsequently succeeded in dropping Buffy a few more times, but they were getting fewer and farther between as Buffy's strength, speed and confidence continued to grow. The last couple of times Buffy had grumbled that he had cheated, and when he pulled the Tazer gun on her she actually screamed at him after she had recovered. Spike had calmly listened to her vent for 5 minutes before pointing out that in a real fight, there were no 'fair play rules' and that she would have to expect that her enemies might use a gun on her to 'take her down' before staking her.

They began to practice outside at night, stalking and hunting each other around the estate. Buffy took to climbing and leaping from tree to tree like a squirrel. The first time Spike saw her do it, he was extremely upset. With a very colorful rant, he pointed out the dangers of crazy vampires impaling themselves when leaping into unknown trees. To his dismay, Buffy had laughed, told him 'not to worry' and proceeded to circle the estate via the treetops. He sighed went back into the house and got a book, came out to the porch and waited. He recognized the signs. She was getting restless. The tiger wanted out of its cage.

When she finally returned, she was covered in pine tree sap and grinning unrepentantly from ear to ear. Spike took one look at her and decided it wouldn't be worth arguing with her.

"Alright Rocky why don't you go shower up," he said disgustedly.

"OK," she said in her perky voice. Buffy started to bounce away while sing the theme to 'Rocky', "Gonna fly noooowww, da-da DA daaaaa..."

"That's not the Rocky I meant, Luv," Spike called after her.

*****

Giles entered the kitchen to find Harmony smothering her current boyfriend with kisses.

"Harm it's OK. I'll be fine," said Mitch Paulsen in between kisses.

"I know you will, sweetie," she cooed. "Your the greatest Vampire hunter in the world. I just want to give you an incentive to come back to me, Baby."

"Not necessarily always a plus when talking about vampire hunting," came a quiet voice from the breakfast nook area.

Harmony glared at Oz who sat by the table. "Oh look, the 'silent wonder' speaks," she sniped. "Just don't go leaving my Mitch behind when you drive-off."

Giles winced at that remark. The girl had just scored a far deeper cut than she realized.

"Hey. Hey. None of that. Oz is solid. He never panics," countered Mitch.

Oz said nothing and continued to sharpen his stake.

*****

Spike watched Buffy as she slept.

He liked to watch her sleep. In a strange way, it soothed him. The new confidence she was showing appeared to have even extended to her sleep. Although she was still troubled by them, Buffy seemed to be less upset by her many nightmares when she awoke.

Every night after practice, she would dart off into the trees. Spike would sit down in one of the deck chairs, pull out a either a book on commando tactics and training, or a weapons catalog and wait for her to return. Usually she would be back within 30 minutes, however, one night after two hours had passed, she still had not come back and Spike began to grow concerned and called out into the darkness, "OK, Rocky, where are you?"

"Bang! Your dusted," replied a voice from behind him, which made him spin about to see...nothing. "Up here," came Buffy's voice again. Spike looked up and found Buffy resting on the roof of the house above him pointing a crossbow at his heart. She was very accurate with them, he knew that from practice. She was also deadly with wooden throwing knives, but that was only to be expected.

**How the hell did she do that?!** he thought. Calmly, he said, "Your stealth abilities are certainly vastly improved over what they were."

"You sound like a Vulcan," she said as she leaped down. She attempted to mimic Spike's voice, "'I see no bloody point in any enthusiastic displays of compliments. It is illogical to engage in such reckless behavior.' Come on, I've been sitting up here for the last 20 minutes waiting for you to detect me."

"Twenty minutes, eh?" with a small smile.

"Yup," she said with pride.

"Fine. How about an extra bag of blood?" he asked.

"Hah! Like you weren't going to give me one anyway," she countered. "Nope. I get to pick the movie tonight. Besides, I think I'm starting to get fat."

"You should be grateful for that blood. There are little starving vampires in China who would kill for that blood," Spike deadpanned.

Buffy stopped and stared at him. "Oh, ha ha. That was, like, so *sick*." She shook her head and walked off while muttering darkly about demented vampires who thought they were comedians. "And stop calling me 'Rocky'. I am not a flying squirrel."

*****

Harmony had finally left when her mother, Amber, had come and asked her to help get the children ready for bed. There were currently 8 children in the house, ranging in age from 4 to 11 years old.

"I talked with Father Martin today," said Giles as he inspected his weapons. "He said Daryl, Jonathan, Scott and Percy were almost caught last night. It was a 'Trapper Van'."

Oz and Mitch nodded.

Mitch finished inspecting his bow and arrows. He was one of the better archers in their group. Oz wielded a crossbow and had become a bit of a homemade explosive expert under the tutelage of Henry Stevens, one of the elderly residents who had been a demolitions expert in WWII. They were fortunate to have his knowledge. The Master's forces had swept down on the local military base shortly after the 'Harvest' and had seized or destroyed any weapons that might have been a threat to them, including tanks, bazookas, mortar and rocket launchers, etc.... It had not been re-staffed.

*****

Spike watched Buffy as she slept.

Every time she defeated him, he went to sleep with a sense of pride, and a worry that he had missed something. He was certain she could defeat the Master in a simple one-on-one combat situation. The trouble was he was also certain that they would not face a simple one-on-one situation.

The Master intended this gathering to be big. Spike planned to challenge him in front of the whole audience. Some would no doubt challenge Spike, seeking to curry favor with the Master. Champions would be chosen to face Spike or his champion if he had any. Spike could not wait to see the expressions on the Master and Willow's faces when he brought forth his Champion. They would be shocked first that he had a Champion to fight in his place, it would double when he had Buffy come forward. They would then settle back in smug certainty that their former 'plaything' would fall, only to be surprised again as she defeated Champion after Champion. The surprise would turn to anger, and the Master would finally step forward to crush his errant childe only to find Spike waited for him instead. Spike had been concerned that they might realize that Buffy was not insane during her fight. So he had taken to coaching her on how to act insane and still fight effectively.

Buffy awoke with a start. "It's alright, Luv. Your safe," Spike reassured her gently when she suddenly sat up. As usual, she didn't reply to him at first, but instead grabbed her journal to record the new details of her dream. She had lately been having basically four re-occurring dreams. In her first dream, she was falling from a great height, in the second, she was drowning in an underwater cave and, in the third, she was running from a great fire. Finally, in the fourth and oddest of her dreams, she was trying to rescue a dark skinned girl who was sinking in quicksand. Buffy did not know who the girl was but she had been trying to sketch her picture.

She had other nightmares such as her parents being murdered, her time at the Bronze, being tortured by Willow. However, while none of these other dreams bothered her nearly as much as 'The Four', she wouldn't talk to Spike about them, and he found himself becoming irrationally angry about the way she had been treated. He didn't understand why it bothered him so that she had been abused. As her Sire, the Master had been within his rights to treat her in any way he saw fit, including killing her. **Hell, I've done a shit load of mistreating minions myself.** Although he was pleased that the Master had failed to realize the true potential hidden in this slip of a girl, more and more, he found himself growing angry with the Master and Willow for their mistreatment of her. Spike wound now find himself anticipating revenge, not just for Drusilla, but for Buffy as well.

Buffy finished adding to her sketch and got up. "Spike, I want to go out," she said abruptly. "I mean, I want to go into town. Tonight. Alone."

Spike sighed. He knew this had been coming. She was restless. He had hoped she would wait until after the ceremony but had suspected she would not. She was looking at him with her eyes wide, a pleading expression on her face. She was good with that, just the right amount of eyelash flutter to melt a lesser man. Or demon.

**But not me,** he thought. **I'm *Spike*. Yes sir. Killer of two Slayers, the 'Meanest, Baddest Ass-kickin' Vampire of LA and soon to be the slayer of 'The Master'.**

"Please?" she pleaded.

**No. No way. It's asking for trouble.**

The eyelashes fluttered again.

"Sure, Buffy. No problem," he said in a steady calm tone of voice. Inside his mind, he was still screaming denials and had added several curses at himself for being an idiot and not saying 'No'.

She beamed 'The Smile' at him. He had seen it a lot lately. Especially after she first defeated him. It was addictive. He really liked seeing it on her.

"Yes," she said, clenching her hands excitedly. She moved toward the bathroom, but as she passed Spike, she impulsively bent down to hug him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she said as she pulled back to look him directly in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, she let go and moved into the bathroom to shower and get ready.

It was the 'please' that had really sunk him. At this point, she could have kicked his ass and left on her own. She could have jumped the fence one night while he sat on the porch waiting for her to return from the trees. Instead she had come to him and requested his permission. If he had said 'No' she would have obeyed. Of that he was certain. She just would have been very upset at his denial; angry at his apparent lack of trust in her and resentful of his own occasional trips into town.

He sighed as he realized that, like Dru, she was slowly becoming someone for whom he was unable to deny any request.

******

Jenny stared at the cards and sighed. She had not received any helpful insight into the future in months. Casting of bones hadn't helped either. Catherine had theorized that it was because vampires were immune to certain types of magic that the readings were failing. Since the vampires were so prominent in whatever was to happen in the future, the cards could not perceive them. On the other hand prophets and seers were able to perceive vampires very clearly. Jenny wished she could contact her clan. Since she had returned to Sunnydale, she had not been able to contact her family for advice. She did not know if it was due to them going into hiding or worse.

A knock at the door made her look up in surprise at the two women there.

"Catherine. Amy. What are you doing out at night?" she asked leveling her crossbow at them.

Amy raised her crucifix to show Jenny it was safe. Catherine still refused to wear one. She prided herself on not needing one to defend herself and steadfastly refused to be wear one in deference to her Goddess who had been so oppressed by the 'Christian God'. Jenny sighed and lowered the crossbow. They had argued over this point for months. Oz had dryly referred to her stubbornness as her 'born-again, Wiccan feminism'. Finally, Catherine had agreed that she would take Amy with her when she left her house, so Amy could hold a cross to show they were not vampires.

"We found something that Amy said you may have been looking for," said Catherine. She held out a book.

Jenny looked at the ancient and well-worn cover, then opened it to read the title. 'The Completely Inaccurate Prophesies of Agnes Nitt'.

*****

When Buffy emerged from the shower, she found that Spike had laid out a set of clothes for her to wear. A dark blue, long-sleeve turtleneck, black jeans, a pair of Doc Martins and black leather jacket. The close fitting, knitted turtleneck would mold itself to her body and prevented the rings on her back and arms from making jingling noises as she moved. She quickly dressed, then brushed back her hair, wishing she could see herself in the mirror. Her hair was still extremely short, having grown only half an inch since the Master had cut it. She was sure that the slicked back look, which Spike liked, would look silly on her. However, without a reflection she was dependent upon Spike telling her what looked good and what did not.

Buffy had never spent much time worrying over her appearance when she had been a Slayer, but now she caught herself at the oddest times wondering even if she was attractive as a woman and not just as a prize for being a former Slayer. Spike had seemed to like her, but he had not made a move on her since they had met. At first, she had put it down to his devotion to Drusilla, but after almost two months she was beginning to have doubts as to whether that was the only reason.

Spike returned to Buffy's bedroom to find her glaring futilely at the mirror as she sat in thought over something. Her pensive look left her face as she turned towards him, set her hands on her hips and asked, "Well, how do I look?"

"You look smashing, Luv," he told her quickly. In truth, he was wondering what had gotten into him to set out such an outfit. The jeans looked painted on, and the top.... He turned away before he did something he would regret. In his mind, he had begun to go down in alphabetical order the words he wanted to use to describe her. She looked arrogant, brash, cocky, domineering, edible, foxy.... He stopped that train of thought before he hit ravishing and sexy. He wanted her, but he did not want to force her. Well, truthfully, he did want to force her, but he wanted her to desire him afterwards, and she'd had more than enough of being forced to last several life times.

They moved down to the kitchen where Spike prepared two mugs of blood in the microwave. She watched him and wondered what was bothering him, but figured better to wait for him to tell her rather than pry. They drank in silence, and then Buffy got up to leave, "Don't worry, Spike, I'll be good. Keep a low profile and all that."

"Hold a moment, Buffy," Spike said. He was gone for only a minute. When he returned he handed her Mary. "Here you go. Just in case. I don't want any problems, pet. Just behave the same as you did before and no one will suspect a thing. But try to keep a low profile. And be careful, OK."

Buffy stared first at the doll and then at Spike. He was acting strange. Like a mother sending her child off to school alone for the first time. She decided not to protest and took the doll.

"OK. I'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "I'm just going to take a stroll around town. What could go wrong?" She walked over to the kitchen door and exited the house.

As the door closed, Spike pulled a small device from his pocket and watched it intently. About five minutes later, Spike followed Buffy into the night.

*****

Mitch fired off his last arrow then turned and ran. He crashed through a deserted shop's door and continued through the shop to the rear where he slammed the backdoor open and kept running into the back alleyway as it slammed closed behind him. Not looking back while running away was important. It distracted you from the important object of fleeing one's pursuers, which was to escape. A glance behind him would do nothing to help that and in fact could distract him. He had learned that in football. One of the few truly useful things that high school had ever really taught him.

As Mitch ran up the alley he tried to avoid the heaps of garbage that could cause him to slip and fall. A stray thought crossed his mind wondering if Giles or Oz had escaped or been captured. He stopped that thought immediately. It was irrelevant at this moment. He would find out later, one way or the other. A crash from behind told him that the vampires had followed him through the store. He dodged down another alley hoping they had not been looking his way, and began looking for another shop to dash through or hide in.

*****

Oz was in the sewers breathing as quietly as he could through his mouth. He was looking through the sewer drain opening that he had slipped through and watching the feet of vampires who had remained behind at the truck as they argued over who had screwed up. Oz, Mitch and Giles had ambushed a truckload of people from out of town as it had passed through the downtown on its way to the 'Factory'. They would hide and wait for a truck to come by then shoot out the tires. If they got lucky, the truck had people in it who they set free once the driver and any other vampires were disposed of.

Giles had shot out the tires, Mitch and Oz had taken care of the driver and the two other vamps. Then they had gone to check the truck and free any human captives, and then lead them to a safe house where they would wait until daylight. Only tonight, as Oz had opened up the truck, a van had roared up behind them and eight vampires had poured out. Giles had yelled for everyone to run, but Oz had gotten knocked down as the people had poured forth from the truck. He rolled under the truck to avoid being trampled and had seen the sewer opening in front of him. He scrambled to the gutter and squeezed inside, hoping that none of the vampires had seen him. Then he waited. Hoping that Giles and Mitch had made it.

*****

Giles was in trouble. He was out of breath from running, and currently, he was holding two vampires at bay with a cross in one hand and a bottle of Holy water in the other. He was also trapped in a dead end ally.

The tall Mexican vampire smiled, pulled out a length of chain and began twirling it over his head. The shorter white vampire picked up a board off of the ground and held it like a bat. They stalked closer.

**Oh, Bloody hell," thought Giles. He hurled the bottle at the vampire with the chain and charged toward the one holding the board with the cross in front of him. The vampire swung the board and he ducked. Giles jammed the cross in his face and lashed out to kick him between the legs. The vampire growled and slashed at him with his claws. Giles tried to get past him, but then he felt the claws on his back indicating the second vampire was still in the fight. He dropped to the ground to try and grab a stick or a board, but pain lanced through him as the claws gouged down his back. He rolled and grasped for the stick he felt his fingertips brushed against. The cross slipped from his fingers and he frantically tried to slam the stick towards the vampire's chest. But he found his arm pinned.

"Enough play, gringo!" snarled the vampire as he leaned in towards Giles' neck. Giles let out a gasp of pain as the vampire bit into his neck.

**Jenny, I'm sorry,** was Giles' last thought before he blacked out.

To Be Continued.....

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