Chapter 1:

The most important thing right now was to get that man, she thought. No, wait, get rid of the man, then get the man. How could she have ever been in love with anyone else? Buffy was shocked at herself as she lugged the bazooka out of the trunk of her car. Angel, he was a wuss; Riley was just too... incredibly military; and Spike... why even bother thinking of Spike? He was insane anyhow. But they weren't important. It was RJ who was important now. RJ was her true love, she was sure, and by killing Principal Woods, she could prove her love for him.

She dragged the bazooka across the school grounds towards the Principals office, barely noticing how heavy and awkward it was to carry. What had to be done now was to stop Principal Wood from being a problem to her dear, dear RJ, and to do that before Willow or Anya or -god forbid- one of those preppy cheerleaders from school could take him away from her. She wasn't really worried about Dawn, what could she possibly to do win RJ? Poor kid... to have been hit so hard by a love spell... Buffy almost felt sorry for her. Dawn was her little sister, after all, and she did love her, even if she was going to have to break her heart.

At this point, though, her own heart what was most important to Buffy. Dawn's would just have to wait. On the subject of hearts, she was certain RJ wouldn't break hers, not like all the others had done. Angel wasn't a story worth wasting time thinking about, Riley had gotten married, and Spike ...just being Spike.... why did she keep thinking about him? RJ was going to be her world now, after she proved that she loved him most of all, so she'd just have to forget about Spike, because he didn't really matter anyway, right?

A single light shone from one of the school windows, and Buffy headed towards it. It was Principal Woods' office, and he had to go. Buffy drew level with the window, and hoisted the bazooka onto her shoulder. She took aim, was ready to fire, and didn't even hear the pounding footsteps coming closer until there was suddenly a whole lot of extra weight on her back.

"What the--" she cried as she was sent toppling sideways, and something tried to wrench the bazooka from her grasp. Flashes of black cloth were all the she could see of whatever had jumped her, and it was pissing her off. This was taking WAY too much time! RJ could be making out with some sluty tramp right now, and she was being attacked.

Her attacker was desperately trying to get the bazooka away from Buffy, and she was determined not to let that happen. Suddenly, though, she wasn't holding the gun anymore, and her black-clothed attacker was off running in the opposite direction. In an instant, she was up and after him, and he only got a few windows away from the lit one before she tackled him, and they both fell to the ground. The bazooka (being rounded) made a weak roll away from the scene as Buffy grabbed her attacker by the arms, and flipped him over so she could see who or what had interrupted her mission.

"Bloody brilliant, Slayer." Spike gasped, as she stared, surprised, into his eyes. "Do you even know what you're doing?" Buffy could only gape in surprise. What was Spike doing here? Shouldn't he be mumbling to himself in Xanders apartment right now? So distracted was she by her thoughts, she didn't even realize that Spike had freed himself from her grasp, until he knocked her over onto her back, pinned her down, and quickly tied her arms and legs together with a length of strong rope.

"What the hell are you doing, Spike?!" Buffy cried, outraged. She strained against the ropes, willing them to break, but the knots stayed tight.

"Learned a few things in my time away, Slayer. Useless to try and break those ropes, by the way. Got them out of town, they're strong." Spike rose and brushed himself off, then he bent down again, and helped Buffy to stand, her legs tied together as they were. She wobbled a bit, but was standing nonetheless, and immediately she tried hopping towards her bazooka.

"Though you look marvelous doing the bunny hop, Slayer, I don't have time for that." Spike told her, shaking his head. Buffy promptly fell over, and missed smashing her head against the gun by mere inches. "Let me go, Spike. I don't have time for you." Buffy said angrily, squirming against the ropes that bound her once more. "I NEED to get to RJ." she grumbled.

Spike sniffed. "You wish. First though, we need to have a little chat." He stooped again, and gently picked her up, carrying her like a knight would carry a fair maiden he's just rescued from a dragon. Every muscle in her body immediately tensed and froze. "I swear to God, Spike, if you touch me, I'll stake you. No. First RJ will beat you to a pulp, and then I'll stake you."

"I'd like to see that Nancy-boy try to lay a finger on me, Slayer. I'm not going to hold my breath for that one to happen. Wait." Spike paused for just a moment. "Sorry. That's right. No breath to hold. See? So its VERY unlikely he OR you will do anything to me." All this time Spike had been walking, leaving the bazooka forgotten on the grass. Now, they reached a small metal door in the wall, and Spike, having no free hands, kicked it down. "In we go." he said cheerfully, and they entered the school. ~


Chapter Two:

It knew he was back. He knew it knew, and he knew it knew he knew, but he wasn't sure if it knew SHE was here. Because if it did, then it would leave him be. It would have to. It was scared of her. And that was funny. He laughed out loud.

"Spike? You haven't gone all nuts on me, have you? Because I have to get back to RJ and my mission and I don't have the time or the energy to deal with that. "

For reasons he couldn't even explain, this comment infuriated Spike, and he vamped out. "Look, Slayer," he growled pointedly " I told you we needed to talk, and we are going to talk." At this point, they reached their destination. Spike sat Buffy down on a chair he had put there earlier, and tied her to it with another piece of rope he had left near the door of the room in the basement where they were.

"I'm seriously thinking I'm going to have to stake you for this, Spike." Buffy complained as Spike took out his lighter and started to light the candles he had put there last week. As he did, the room came into better view. It was just a storage cupboard, he knew, but it would suit the purpose. "You're making me late, here. Principal Wood should be DEAD now, but he's not thanks to you. Willow and Anya are probably hanging all over RJ as we speak." Buffy struggled against her bonds again. "Are you going to let me go now?" she asked, rather angrily. "Don't you think you've hurt me enough?"

At this, Spike crumpled. He couldn't bear that last statement. Between clenched teeth, he gritted out "Don't.. say... that." Buffy said nothing. So, she's finally found the sense to shut up, the sane part of him thought. The other part bellowed "DON'T SAY IT!", though she had said nothing. "Please, don't say that." Spike began. "You have to know I didn't mean... you have to know...."

Then the sane part of him snapped back into place, and Spike got up off the floor. "Sorry 'bout that, pet. Wasn't myself." Buffy sighed. "Spike, I'm in love with RJ now. You have to stop calling me pet. What will RJ think?"

"To tell you the honest to god truth, Buffy," Spike said, annoyed "I don't give a bloody care in hell what RJ will think! The sodding idiot is too much of...of... a sodding IDIOT for me to care! Buffy!" Spike whirled around. "STOP SAYING THAT YOU LOVE HIM. I KNOW that you don't! You're under a damned love spell! A SPELL! Just like the ones that Red casts, that make us all forget who we are and plan weddings and go blind! ITS NOT REAL!"

"Spike, calm down." Buffy interrupted. "You don't know what you're talking about. My love for RJ is real, and true, and deep, and solid, and one day-" "One day, Slayer, you are going to think back on this, call yourself as insane as I am now, and then you and I will laugh about the whole thing, and then," said Spike as he knelt in front of her chair so their faces were level. "I'll do this." In one lightning movement, he brought his face in close to hers, and kissed her hard. And she kissed him back, just as hard.

Her heart was pumping furiously, she was breathing fast, and if she hadn't been tied to her chair at the moment, she would have wrapped her arms around him and never let him go. Because at that moment she realized that, insane as he was, as much as he had hurt her, as much as she wasn't ready to forgive him, soul or not, love (or love spell) for RJ or not, she was completely and absolutely 100% madly in love with him.

As it was, she had to content herself with his hands caressing her face and arms, and gently stroking her hair, for he was afraid to do anything more and hurt her again. Though he wanted to untie all the ropes he had tied her up with and take her somewhere nicer than this hole of a basement and show her how much he loved her, he feared she would run, and he knew it was too much too soon to do anything of that sort. So he pulled away.

Looking into her eyes for just a second, he saw a torrent of mixed emotions which were gone before he could pick anything out. Her eyes then seemed to glaze over, and, like they had gone through a cyclone in a craft store, the spelled glitter returned, and he was shut out again.

Insane as he was, Spike realized that his kiss had momentarily broken the love spell. Briefly, he wondered weather he would have to kiss her until the spell broke completely. He rather liked that idea, but he knew what too much kissing could lead to, and that wasn't the best course of action right now. He would just have to find some other way. Getting back onto his feet, he looked down at Buffy, who's face was set into an expression of deep concentration.

"Spike," she said slowly. "You know what this means, don't you? I'll have to tell RJ about what just happened. I don't think he'll like it too much, but we can work through it." she finished confidently, smiling again. With a groan of disgust, Spike rolled his eyes, and stormed out of the room. There was only one solution to this now. He had to get a hold of that RJ guy. ~~

Chapter Three:

In a town like Sunnydale, it wasn't usually easy for a vampire to find a specific mortal. Most times, any one would do. On this occasion, however, finding RJ wasn't all that hard, as he was being followed down the street by a mob of screaming women of various ages. Half a dozen cheerleaders were hanging off him, and walking towards the rabble, Spike spotted Anya and Dawn being carried along with the crowd. Spike could hear cries of "RJ! Would you go to the dance with me?", "RJ! I love you!" and "Older women are very attractive, you know!", but ignored them as he headed towards his target. The man himself, if you could call him a man, Spike thought, was enjoying all the attention, and grinning from ear to ear. His grin faded as Spike marched steadily forward, looking very grim and determined to break whatever hold this kid had on Buffy.

The vampire walked straight up to RJ, and his entourage faded away, scared by the hatred that burned in the vampire's eyes. Even Anya and Dawn had backed off, but they were looking at Spike as if he were insane- which, technically, he was. Spike was now face to face with RJ, and he only stared at the boy, causing RJ to become very nervous. He shifted his weight around, but tried to stay cool as this strange leather clad punk eyed him. Spike narrowed his eyes, and bent slightly forwards, staring at the large yellow "S" stitched onto the jacket. The whole crowd was watching now, and everyone glared at the strange challenger suspiciously.

Without a word being spoken, the vampire lifted his hand, and pulled a loose stitch on the bottom loop of the "S". The bottom of the letter detached itself from the jacket, and a fine green sand poured down from the underneath it onto the ground. Immediately, the crowd seemed to realize they were all standing in the middle of the street, and that suddenly this strange high school kid they had been following wasn't all that good looking. They started to disperse. Spike only gave RJ an annoyed look. "That was too bloody easy." he grumbled, before he turned and stalked off.

Soon enough, Spike was back at Sunnydale High. He walked into the basement, and was immediately aware that something was terribly wrong. His face clouded, and he nearly ran back to the room where he had left Buffy. As he got near, he took note that the candles were still lit. They hadn't toppled over, there was no blazing fire burning his girl to a crisp as she sat, incapable of much movement, in her chair.

Except she wasn't in the chair. The horrible feeling of dread cemented itself into his chest as Spike walked though the door to find the chair intact and upright. The rope, still tied around it, was now hanging loosely. Everything remained as it was before he left, except that Buffy was gone. Gone.

"BUFFY!" Spike ran back into the main basement calling her name at the top of his lungs. He didn't give a damn if the night janitor heard him or not. He had to find her. Madly, he tore through the maze that was the basement, checking every corner, behind every door, in every secret room he had discovered in his time living down here. Nothing. Somehow he ended up back in the storage room where he had started. And then he saw it, and was surprised he didn't notice it before. On the seat of the chair, in clearly defined but barely visible print were the words: "From beneath her, I devoured." It was written in her blood, and he fell to the floor and screamed.
~~~


Chapter Four:

Here there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, and besides that, a vast nothingness. Wanting to reach the surface again was a powerful feeling, but so was the one to just go back to the dark. She remembered he left, even though he had told her he would be there for her always, and at first she hadn't minded. Suddenly she became aware of where she was. In the basement, and he was gone, and she was alone, and then it came. First there was only a tingle. Then came the mist, and the dark, and the fear and pain rushed in after them. And then... then...

She came back to consciousness in the dark, and thought of him. But not RJ this time, now it was Spike. The spell had broken. Well, that was at least one good thing. But everything else was bad. Where didn't matter, how didn't matter, and neither did when. Who mattered. And why. And what. Her questions reminded her of a puzzled and confused Xander's vocabulary. What? Who? What? Three excellent questions.

Sensation came back next. The pain of seven thousand hammers crashed into every part of her. And then, something odd. There was a weight on her. Something heavy and warm, moving rhythmically, covering her. Voices spoke, all around her, in her head, everywhere. They laughed, whispered, teased, coaxed, yelled. She knew them, and they were unknown. But there was one voice the dominated over the others. It was unknown. It was terror, and it terrified her. She knew there was no one here to help her.

The shadows started moving. That couldn't be a good sign. Buffy only watched as one of them detached itself from the mass, and approached her. She stared into the darkness as it moved forwards, trying to make out some sort of definable shape. But just as she thought she could see something, there was a sharp pain in her arm, and now, though it stood over her, she didn't care. ----

It had done what he SWORE he would not let it do. It had broken him. Taken her away, and crushed all that he was. He was not sure that what he was counted as anything now. He was pathetic, and she was gone. He did not want to cry, but his world had ended again. And when your world ends, you usually mourn your loss. This was no exception. All along, the voices had told him he would never never get her, because he wasn't good enough. Then that girl had told him different. And it was what he wanted to believe, and he believed it, but now he couldn't be sure.

Spike retreated into his own mind, where it was at least somewhat safe. He closed his eyes, and saw blackness. And a dozen golden balloons. Music notes, and books of poetry. Roses, bed sheets. "Seventy six bloody trombones." he said. And there they were, stacked into a giant pyramid. Striding up behind them, though, suddenly, was his own self. His pre-soul self. Cocky, self assured, powerful. Good hair. His former self looked at what he was now, and shook his head. "Get up." it sneered at him. "What sort of man are you?"

"Not a man." Spike mumbled in reply. " A monster. A creature. A thing." His former self raised his eyebrows. "That so?" he asked. "You can't be. I'm not. You're me. We're not, regardless of whatever may have happened. Get up, go after her. She needs you."

Spike frowned, looked ashamed, and was angry that this vision of his past was right. "I hurt her. I let it get her. She doesn't want me, she doesn't need me. All I ever do is hurt."

"Bollocks." the other Spike shot back. "Of course needs you. We both know she can't get away from it alone. No one else is going to do it , and when you snap out of this bloody misery fest you're in, and get back to being me, how you know you should be, and she's gone, because of you, you'll hate yourself. Worse than you do now. We are in love with this girl, and if you don't do something now, you'll break, because she'll be DEAD if you don't move soon."

Still, Spike was not to be convinced. "You're wrong, you are." he said quietly. "I don't love. Monsters can't love." At this, his other self got angry. The image threw a fit, and started kicking things. The pile of trombones collapsed, but none of them hit the crazed image of Spikes sanity, as he violently ripped up the lovely poems that had been running though his head once upon a time.

"YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR A VAMPIRE!" the image bellowed. "We do love! We did, don't you remember? What happened when she died? WE DIED. We were here, but we were dead. And remember that when she came back, when we saw her and saw her bloody hands and we were praising whatever force brought her back, even if she was brought back wrong, because now no one was dead? If we didn't love her, why in hell would either of us be wasting our time, keep sticking our neck out for her, for Dawn, for her friends? If you can't love, then why does her being gone turn you into a pathetic lump of quivering jelly? I wouldn't be here trying to convince you to get your sorry ass off the ground if we weren't in love with her beyond salvation. Stop listening to the other voices! They aren't me, and I'm you and as soon as you realize that we can go kick the big bad for even so much as thinking about touching Buffy. Do you hear me? GET MOVING!"

With that, the image rushed forwards towards the front of his mind, and Spike was jolted back into sanity. He looked around suspiciously, and realized that somehow, in his ravings, he had wound up in a different part of the basement than where he had started. It was darker here, the walls looked older, burnt maybe, as if they had been part of the original school. Quite near to where he stood, there was an ancient looking wooden door, engraved with all sorts of symbols Spike didn't care to decipher. One thing was clear, though. This was where he needed to be. Without another moments thought, he booted down the door and walked straight into the waiting darkness. ----

For how long, now, had this been happening? Ever since she had gotten her wits back, since whatever drug had been given to her had worn off, she knew that it was hiding in the shadows now, watching her. Fear paralyzed her, and she had been praying that it would not come back this way and touch her again. But it did. Before it had even reached her she started screaming. It only laughed.