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Rating:  R
Summary:  Spike loses his memory – Set in Season 6
Disclaimer:  Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy
A huge thank you to Jane Davitt and moosesal for beta reading this.  Hugs to both of you.

Amnesia! Spike


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Part One

The figure on the couch watched the three people huddle together and whisper a few feet away from him. They acted like he couldn’t hear them, though their voices were quite clear. His head was sore, sore and feeling heavy, and he wished for the thousandth time that they’d shut the hell up.

“You want me to what?” the one called Buffy hissed disbelievingly, in reaction to what the man had said.

“Take care of him. After all, it’s Dawn’s fault he got hurt.”

“It so is not,” denied the young girl, Dawn. She looked at the floor for a moment, and then mumbled, “Okay. Maybe it was my fault…a little.”

“Why can’t you take care of him, Xander? You’ve got that nice apartment.”

“Yes, that nice one bedroom apartment. With one bed in it. One bed that Anya and I share.”

“Wouldn’t mind a threesome,” the eavesdropper said loudly. The group turned as one and glared at him, then moved a few more feet away to try to get out of range. Yeah, like that would do it.

“Come on, Buffy. Willow’s gone on that two-week retreat to try to stop using magic. He can use her room,” Dawn urged.

"It'll probably just be for a day or so," Xander added.

“And what if it’s not?”

“Then we’ll think of something else,” said Xander.

The man on the couch watched as the blonde sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders and nodded yes.

“Fine. Though I’ll probably regret this.”

Buffy turned and walked towards him and despite his piercing headache, the figure stood up as she neared.

“You can stay. But as soon as you get your memory back, Spike, you’re out of here.”

Spike nodded in agreement. He was just getting used to hearing his name. Whatever had happened earlier in the evening had wiped his memory clean. He didn’t know who he was, and to hear the lot of them talk, he didn’t know what he was, either. In fact, he only knew one thing about himself. Luckily it was a very important thing.

He had a really cool coat.

* * *

Spike was shocked when Buffy told him that he was a vampire. He didn’t even believe in vampires. At least he didn’t think he did. Exasperated at his continued accusations that she was a barmy bint, Buffy dragged him into the bathroom and showed him his lack of reflection. It fascinated him. He could see her. He could see everything behind him, but he couldn’t see himself. He stared and stared at the emptiness in the mirror. He wondered if he was handsome, so he asked her.

“Am I handsome?”

“Eww. No!”

“Oh.” How disappointing, he thought.

Again he stared into the mirror. In its surface, he saw Buffy look toward him and swallow. Spike felt a hand tentatively placed on his arm.

“You’re not ugly or anything, though.”

“Really?” he asked, a bit more hopeful.

“Well, your hair is bleached, which is kind of stupid looking, and you’re really pale, but...but you’re eyes are sort of a nice shade of blue.”

I have nice blue eyes, he thought and the thought cheered him up enough to cause him to smile.

“Also,” continued Buffy, “even though you’re not very tall, you’re lean and you do have an extremely nice...”

When her voice halted, Spike turned to look at her. Buffy’s eyes, he noted, were drifting over him and her mouth was slightly open. She must be having a hard time coming up with words that wouldn’t hurt his feelings too much, he thought.

“Buffy?” he said, when she kept staring out him. “Buffy?” he said louder.

“What?” asked Buffy as she tried to surreptitiously wipe a bit of drool from her mouth.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to make stuff up to make me feel better. I’ll have to resign myself to being a homely looking vampire.”

“Oh...right...homely.” Her eyes sharpened. “But you do believe that you’re a vampire now, don’t you?”

“Not seeing is believing.”

“Good.” Buffy nodded her head with some degree of finality, glad that obstacle was out of the way.

“I just have one question, though.”

“What is it?”

“Where’s my coffin for me to sleep in?”

* * *

“This is disgusting!”

“Shut up and eat it.”

“It’s gross. I won’t.”

“Then don’t eat it. Starve.”

“I will.”



Spike looked at Buffy, who was angry, but determined not to give in. Dawn, seated on the other side of the table, was also furious, her arms crossed in front of her, her bottom lip stuck out in a serious teenage pout. Spike glanced at the mess congealing on Dawn’s dinner plate and gave a little shudder.

Thank God he was drinking blood, he thought.

* * *

Buffy was out, doing who knew what, and Spike was stuck at home with Dawn.

“Teach me how to cheat at cards,” she whined.

“I told you, I don’t remember.”

“But you said it came natural to you. not breathing.”

“Then I guess I lied.”

“Yeah, you did, you nondead, evil, lying thing.”

“Don’t remember being evil. Don’t remember cheating, either.”

Spike tried to concentrate on the show in front of him. Dawn said it was like a million years old, but he didn’t remember it. It seemed to be some sort of story about survival and courage in the face of all odds.

“So,” said Dawn hesitantly, “if you were evil, would you remember how to cheat then?”

“Suppose so.”

He was still watching the television, wondering how in the world the scheme the characters had come up with would save them, when he felt a sharp pain in his leg.

“Ow! You kicked me!” Spike yelled.

“Uh-huh. Did it work? Are you feeling evil now?”


“Oh,” Dawn said, disappointed.

A commercial came on extolling the virtues of grease and fat in the American diet when Spike felt the toe of Dawn’s shoe once more forcefully hit his shin. He turned to glare at the teenager.

“Now are you feeling evil?”


Another kick.

“Now are you evil?”



“How about now?”

With an exasperated scowl, Spike stood, turned off the television, and headed for his room before his legs became one massive set of bruises. It was too bad, though. Now he’d never know how Gilligan and his friends made it off that bloody island.

* * *

Once again, Buffy was out for the night. This time, fortunately, Dawn was spending the night with a friend, so Spike was left alone.

It was weird, living with people he didn’t remember. He’d sussed out that Buffy was working at a fast food place to support herself and her sis, all those burgers she brought home being big clues. However, he still didn’t know much about either of them. Deciding that the fact that they seemed to know him so well, while he knew nothing about them wasn’t fair, he decided to even it out a bit and snoop around.

The drawers in the kitchen didn’t yield anything interesting. The only thing the stuff in the drawers in the desk in the dining room told him was that Buffy was severely behind on several bills. As he entered the living room, he spied the wooden chest along the wall. That had to be full of all sorts of memorabilia.

Slowly he lifted up the lid and looked inside, then closed it with a thunk.

What the hell? he thought. Wild-eyed, he glanced around the room before lifting the lid again.

The trunk was full of weapons. There were axes, swords, and crossbows. There were daggers and pointed sticks. There were even little bottles, filled with clear liquid which, he figured, had to be poison. Some of the items still had tiny bits of gore clinging to them, as if they hadn’t been cleaned properly before being put away. Spike felt as if he were going to be sick.

Now he knew why they were friends with a vampire. Vampires killed people to drink their blood. These people must just like to kill.

“Spike, what’s going on?”

Spike let out a surprised shriek, then whirled around to see Buffy standing near the door. He’d been too overwhelmed at the horror before him to hear her enter. She came closer, before stopping and staring at the open trunk next to him.

“Were you looking at my stuff?” she asked, her voice filling with anger.

“No! I was just...I didn’t see anything. Really I didn’t,” Spike said desperately.

“You’re not supposed to be touching my things,” she said harshly.

Standing up, Spike backed away, edging toward the kitchen as Buffy came nearer.

“I didn’t touch anything. I swear. I swear.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Spike was pressed up against the entryway to the kitchen as Buffy reached the trunk. When she leaned down to pick up a sword that was still stained with blood, Spike did the only thing he could think of.

He screamed and ran away.

* * *

Please be home, please be home, please be home, Spike thought repeatedly. His prayers were answered when the door opened and Xander, wearing a robe, appeared on the threshold.

“Spike! What are you doing here?”

Trying to push past Xander to rush into the apartment, Spike met a barrier so unyielding that when he hit it, it sent him hurtling back to sprawl onto the floor of the hallway. Xander stood for a moment, looking at him, before coming to his aid. Holding a hand out, he helped Spike off the floor.

“Oops. Sorry about that. You’ve never been here, so I need to invite you in.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at Xander.

“It’s vampire lore.” Xander said, shrugging. “You’re invited in, Spike.”

This time, Spike approached the door much slower and more cautiously and breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to enter the apartment without further mishap.

“So...I’ve never been here before?” Spike asked.

“Nope. How’d you find your way here tonight?”

“Was out. Smelled you. Followed your scent.”

“As much as that squicks me out, and it really, really does, I’m even more curious why you’re here.”

That question brought forth Spike’s original reason for running out of Buffy’s house.

“Got to warn you. Got to warn everyone. That girl, Buffy, she’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“No, you don’t understand, mate. She has a trunkful of swords and axes. And...” Spike looked around, before continuing at a whisper, “they’ve been used.”

“Is that what this is about? Spike, she needs that for her job.”

“Ha, bloody ha. May not have my memory, but I’m not stupid. Fast food industry’s not that competitive.”

“No, she needs it for her other job. Being a Slayer.”

“What’s a Slayer?”

“A Slayer kills vampires,” explained Xander.

“Not making me feel much better. Vampire here.”

“She wouldn’t kill you, Spike.”

“Why not? Does she like me?”

“No, she hates you.”

“Then why not?” asked Spike, puzzled.

“First of all, you can’t kill anyone anymore. You have an electronic chip in your head that prevents you from hurting people.”

“So am I good, then?”

“Nope, you’re still evil,” replied Xander.

“Really? What evil things have I done?”

Spike watched as Xander tried to come up with reasons why he was still considered to be evil.

“You call us names, British names, like prat and git.”

“Oooh, I must be evil,” said Spike unimpressed.

“ made a robot of Buffy and had sex with it,” continued Xander.

“I did? Was it any good?”

“I don’t know, but it sure looked like you were having a great time.”

“You watched me have sex with a robot Buffy?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! Actually yes, but....Can we change the subject?”

“Don’t see how having sex with a robot Buffy while you watched makes me evil. Makes me kinky, though. Makes you kinky, too.”

“I did not watch you have sex with...oh, never mind.” Frustrated, Xander thought for a moment. “You betrayed us to Adam! Ha! You are evil! You are so evil!”

“Who’s Adam?” said Spike, interrupting the victory dance that Xander was currently doing around his living room.

“Adam was created by the government. He was really smart and wanted to use an army to take over the world.”

“Oh.” Spike thought for a moment. “Like that git on television. Rumsfield.”

“No, not like Rumsfield.”

“Wait, you said he was government. Maybe I’m not evil. Maybe I’m patriotic,” Spike said.

“You’re not patriotic, you’re evil. Besides, you’re British.”

“Right. Forgot about that.”

Spike looked at Xander, who was grinning, still thrilled that he’d managed to come up with a good reason as to why Spike was evil.

“So, you’re saying that even though I’m evil and a vampire, Buffy won’t kill me?”

When Xander nodded his head, Spike continued.

“Why not?”

“Well,” said Xander after a moment’s thought, “You help us. Like the other night, you saved Dawn’s life before you got hit in the head and lost your memory. And I guess you’re sort of our friend.”

Before Spike could say anything, a woman stalked out of Xander’s bedroom.

“Xander, why are you out here talking to Spike? You’re supposed to be in bed, giving me lots of orgasms.”

Spike stared at the woman. Then he turned and stared at Xander, who blushed under his gaze.

“Umm...this is Anya, my girlfriend.”

Anya stuck out her hand to shake Spike’s.

“We know each other, but since you don’t remember, nice to meet you again. But it wasn’t really nice to meet you before. Anyway, it’s late and you have to leave now.”

Xander gently pulled Anya away, and turned her towards the bedroom.

“Honey, I’ll just say good-night to Spike. You go get back in bed.” After Anya had closed the bedroom door, Xander looked sheepishly at Spike. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay. Should probably be getting back, myself, now that you’ve convinced me that Buffy isn’t a psycho killer.”

“I never said that.”

Smiling, Xander opened the door and Spike went into the hallway.

“Thanks, Xander, for all your help. You are my friend, aren’t you?” Spike said.

It took Xander a minute to reply. When he did, it seemed as if he had just discovered something that he’d never even known existed before.

“Yes, Spike. We are friends.”

“I’m glad.”

Spike turned to leave and Xander began to close the door when he heard Spike ask “Hey, is Rumsfield evil?”

Part Two

Spike and Xander sat on Buffy’s couch watching the second Terminator movie. While Buffy patrolled, Xander had begun coming over with different movies to watch with Spike, determined to fill in any blanks in Spike’s memory of how to be a real man. Dawn had let out a snort when she’d heard that, then made it a habit to go to a friend’s house to study and leave the “real men” alone.

They’d started with Animal House, then moved on to Lethal Weapon. So far, Spike decided, to be a real man, you had to get drunk, chase girls, shoot guns, and blow up things.

“This Linda Hamilton bint,” Spike said, pointing to the buff, toned body on the screen, “she seeing anyone?”

“Spike, this movie is a little old. I don’t think she still looks like that.”


“Besides, Buffy is tougher than she is. Heck, Buffy’s tougher than the Terminator.”

“She is?” Spike asked, now ignoring the movie to face Xander.

“She fought a hell god and won. But then Buffy died.”

“Buffy’s dead? She’s what…a zombie? Does explain that whole nothing makes me happy bit of hers.”

“No, no. Willow’s a witch. She brought Buffy back to life.”

Spike studied Xander’s face, trying to decide if his leg was being pulled or not. Nope, the man seemed sincere. With a small sigh, Spike turned his attention back to the television.

“The lot of you lead weird lives,” he huffed.

“Says the vampire who can’t remember anything.”

Spike flinched. He hoped Xander hadn’t seen it, but when he felt Xander’s hand rest on his shoulder, he knew that he had.

“Buffy’s not the only one who’s tough. You’re pretty tough yourself, Spike. You’ll get through this.”

“I was tough?” Spike asked.

“Definitely. Tough and very scary. The first time I saw you, you said you were going to kill Buffy. A few days later, Angel offered you my neck and I was sure I was a goner.”

“Angel? Who’s he?”

Xander looked like he was struggling to think of a way to say something, but ended up shrugging and answering with a “Nobody important.”

“Xander,” Spike said softly.


“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m...I’m glad we’re friends.”

His face flushed, Xander stood up quickly.

“I’ve got to go, Spike. Anya’s already mad at me. She thinks I’m spending too much time with you. And...and I’ve got to be at work early tomorrow. You know what they say, the early bird doesn’t get fired and earns its wormy paycheck.”

Confused, Spike watched Xander’s abrupt departure. It was strange, almost as if Xander was keeping a secret from him. The next evening, he was even more confused when Xander called him to tell him that he couldn’t come over. With Dawn working on her homework at a friend’s and Buffy out, Spike spent the night alone.

The following night, Xander didn’t even call.

* * *

During the past few days, the residents of the Summers house had settled into a routine. Spike would take a shower around sunrise each morning, then go to bed. Dawn would wake up, go into the bathroom, and then head into Spike’s bedroom where she would yell at him for throwing all the towels on the floor. After yelling, she would return to the bathroom and take her shower. While Dawn dressed for school, Buffy would get up, go into the bathroom, and then march down the hall to pound on Dawn’s door to complain about Dawn using so much of her shampoo and conditioner. Feeling righteous, Buffy would then return to the bathroom to shower.

They did this every morning for four days. On the fifth day, Dawn got up and went into the bathroom. Looking puzzled, Dawn left the bathroom, went into Spike’s bedroom and woke him up.

“Spike!” she yelled.

“What?” came the mumbled reply from under a heap of covers on the bed.

“You didn’t leave towels on the floor.”

“You woke me up to tell me that?” Spike asked, his head finally peeking out.

“I don’t understand. You always leave towels on the floor.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too.”

“Do not.”

“Dotoodotoodotoo.” Dawn said as fast as she could.

Spike sat up in bed and looked at Dawn. Dawn, arms folded across her chest, was trying hard not to let the fact that Spike’s curly hair made him look cute and puppyish deter her. At last Spike gave in to Dawn’s patented teenage glare.

“Didn’t take a shower. Didn’t feel like it, okay?”

As Spike tried to snuggle back under the covers, Dawn stared at him in dismay before screaming “Buffy!”

Buffy ran into the room, ten seconds later, still in her Cat and the Fiddle pajamas, carrying an axe. When she didn’t see any threatening demons, she put her axe down and spun to face Dawn.

“Dawn, stop doing that! The last time you screamed, it was because your favorite shirt was wrinkled. Then there was the time you screamed because you got toothpaste in your hair. The time before that...”

“Whatever. Listen, Spike didn’t take a shower. He said he didn’t feel like it.”

Buffy looked at Spike.

“You always feel like taking a shower,” Buffy said.

“Do not.”

“Do, too.”

Spike sighed. Hadn’t he just done this bit a few minutes ago?

“Just don’t know why I bother,” he finally answered. “Still don’t know who I am. Just sit around all day and all night. Don’t have anything to do. Don’t even know what I like to do.”

“Laundry!” shouted Dawn.

“What?” said Spike and Buffy.

“You like to do laundry. And you like to iron. You said it relaxed you.”

“I did?” asked Spike as Buffy stared at Dawn.

“Dawn...” Buffy started, the warning evident in her voice.

“Yes, you did,” Dawn said, interrupting Buffy. “Fortunately, we have whole basketfuls of clothes that someone needs to iron. You can do it, if you want.”

“That’s right nice of you,” Spike said, now with a smile on his face.

“I know. I’m sweet like that,” replied Dawn.

Spike turned to face Buffy, who for some reason looked as if she were choking.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes...yes, I’m fine. I wanted to tell you that...about the ironing.”

Dawn turned her infamous glare onto Buffy while Spike waited patiently for Buffy to continue.

“I just wanted to tell you that...well, you like to iron, but you like to cook, too.”

“Oh,” said Spike, much more cheerful. “Guess I’ll start fixing supper for now on then.”

“Good, that would be um...good.”

Dawn and Buffy left, shutting the door to his bedroom, but even through the door, Spike heard Buffy hiss at Dawn “He is really going to kill us.”

“Yes,” Dawn answered smugly, “But at least when we die, we’ll be neat and well-fed.”

* * *

“So, how do you like it?” Spike asked.

Buffy reached for her water and drank half of it down.

“It’s good, really it is. I just didn’t know you could make chicken spicy,” she replied.

“The secret is to use lots of Tabasco,” Spike said proudly.

Buffy quickly glanced up at his face and saw a smirk. “You knew!” she accused.

“Knew what?”

“Knew that Dawn and I were setting you up to do the cooking and laundry.”

“Course I knew. Not stupid.”

“Can I have another piece?” interrupted Dawn.

Buffy and Spike stared at Dawn’s plate incredulously, empty except for a few bones.

“That’s impossible,” Spike said. “With all that Tabasco sauce, no human could’ve eaten it.”

“Does that mean I can have all the rest of the chicken, then?” Dawn asked, standing up and helping herself to a chicken leg from the pan at the stove.

“No human,” repeated Spike, awed.

“Spike,” said Buffy softly, “Let me tell you a long story. It all started with some monks.”

* * *

Buffy insisted that Spike accompany her on her patrol that night, so he donned his really cool leather coat and followed her out of the house.

“Where are we going? You giving me a tour of the town?” asked Spike.

“First we’ll walk through some alleys, then we’ll swing by some of the newer cemeteries,” answered Buffy.

“Alleys and cemeteries? Don’t know why the Chamber of Commerce hasn’t snapped you up to serve in their Office of Tourism.”

Buffy kept marching ahead and Spike scrambled to keep up.

“Don’t you need to look stealthy?” he asked as they entered an alley. “Or at least small and helpless instead of acting like a general leading an army?”

A vampire emerged and lunged at Buffy.

“No, not really,” Buffy said as she dodged the attack.

Spike watched as Buffy and the vampire exchanged blows. He had a sneaky suspicion that she was trying to show off. Spike knew you didn’t need to do that many back flips when you fought. He’d seen the movie Rocky with Xander several nights before and Rocky hadn’t done a single one. ‘Course if he had, he might’ve beaten Apollo Creed.

As Spike mused about the strange attraction of Talia Shire, Buffy staked the vampire, causing it to explode into dust.

“Spike. Spike! I’m done here,” Buffy said, shaking Spike from his reverie.

“Right you are. Hey, where’d the other fellow go?”

“Weren’t you paying attention?” With an indignant huff, Buffy continued. “When you stake a vampire, or cut off his head, or use sunlight to burn him, or you use fire to burn him, because vampires are pretty flammable, or even if you...”

“Getting a little queasy here.”

“Anyway, they dust. They go poof.”

“Poof? You mean when I die, I’ll just turn to dust?” Spike asked, visibly upset. “There won’t be a body or anything for folks to remember me by?”

Buffy put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Spike, everyone will remember you. You’re pretty unforgettable.”

“Except for me forgetting myself.”

Buffy sighed. “There is that.”

* * *

According to Buffy, it was unusually quiet by Sunnydale standards. They’d only run into two vampires and one demon, which Buffy killed while Spike watched in fascination and disgust. Buffy tried to be patient, answering his questions with, “I don’t know what her name is so I can’t introduce you”, “The blood dripping from her fangs, kind of a big hint of evilness’, and “No, I’m not going to ask if she has a sister.”

Since the night was so uneventful, Buffy convinced Spike that they should go by his crypt to see if anything jogged his memory. Xander had already been by earlier that week to pick up Spike’s clothes.

When they entered the crypt, Spike became very quiet. He remained silent as he walked around, examining the battered furniture, the television, and the ancient refrigerator.

“Do you recognize anything?” asked Buffy.

Spike walked back and stared at Buffy.

“You do hate me, don’t you?” he asked quietly, startling Buffy.

“Well...duh. Why do you ask?”

“This place is a pit. Don’t think a friend would let another friend live here.”

“Oh, but it’s not that bad,” Buffy said, hurriedly. “Downstairs is much better. There are rugs and the bed is...the bed looks comfy.”

“There’s a downstairs?”

“It’s through there.” Buffy pointed across the room and Spike saw a hatch. “Why don’t you go look while I stay up here and wait,” she continued a little nervously.

Descending, Spike was surprised to see that the downstairs was nicer. It actually looked posh. He wasn’t sure what those grayish lumps were off to the side, but it didn’t distract too much from the general coziness of the room.

Pulling a drawer open, he glanced idly inside, but none of the meager contents rang a bell. A few books lay on a table, so he flipped through them for a moment before putting them aside. It was as he approached the bed that he noticed a box half shoved underneath. Spike picked it up, placed it on the bed, and opened it, then let out a whoosh of breath.

Chains, handcuffs, and sexual paraphernalia were stored inside. Seems his life was a bit more exciting than he’d thought. Sifting through the items, his eyes spied a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read:


Stopped by, but you were out. When I come by
again, you better be naked and tied to the bed.

The note was unsigned.

Shock gave way to a wave of warmth through Spike’s body. He had a lover. He wasn’t alone. Someone loved him.

Now all Spike had to do was find out who his lover was.

* * *

“I don’t think you quite have the concept of the after-school snack down yet, Spike,” said Dawn as she stared at the plate in front of her.

“Nutritious, right?”

“Well, yes, but....”

“Don’t even think you can get me to start feeding you junk food. Wise to your tricks.”

Dawn sighed, picked up her knife and fork, and began cutting into her pork chop.

Spike sat at the dining room table next to Dawn and watched her chew as he tried to think of an appropriate way to approach the subject of who his lover might be. His secret lover. Spike realized that if he’d been part of a known couple, he would’ve been told by now, so the liaison had to be a secret. To find out the truth, he would need subtlety and finesse.

“Are we having sex?” Spike asked Dawn.

Dawn started choking. Spike pounded her on the back and decided he didn’t do subtle very well.

The coughing went on for quite some time. By the time Dawn managed to get her breath back, Spike had figured out that the two of them probably weren’t having sex.

“What the heck was that?” Dawn asked, her voice still a bit hoarse.

“Um...just wondering. Nothing to get worked up about.”

“Spike, you idiot, I’m fifteen. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex.”

“What? You mean all those nights you’ve been going out studying at a friend’s house, you’ve really been studying at a friend’s house? And I thought I had no life.”

“Shut up, Spike.”

Frustrated, Spike stood up and began pacing back and forth in the kitchen,

“Well, I’m not bloody fifteen. Vampires have sex. Thought it might be with you.”

“Actually not all vampires have sex. Angel doesn’t.”

“Who’s Angel?” asked Spike, since he hadn’t received a decent answer from Xander.

Dawn bit her lip and tried to think of a good way to reply to that question, before finally muttering “Nobody important.”

Still slightly red in the face due to the choking, Dawn said, “Why’d you ask me that...that question, anyway?”

“’Cause you’re the only bird that seems to like me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? You saying that Buffy likes me, then?”

“, you’re right, she doesn’t.”

“Don’t think she like me deep, deep down, do you?”

“Deep, deep down? Nope, deep, deep down, she still doesn’t like you.” Dawn looked at Spike’s crestfallen expression.

“You don’t remember her, but Willow sort of likes you. And Tara does, too. Tara likes everyone.”

“They do?”

“Yep.” Another thought occurred to Dawn. “But, Willow and Tara are both gay.”

“Doubt if they’d be having sex with me, then.” A second later Spike brightened, “Maybe we’re a ménage a trois.”

“Eww. Yuck, Spike. Remember, virgin here. No, I don’t think you and...Oh God; I can’t even say it, but no, no, no. You’d think after being around Anya so much, I’d be immune.”

Dawn saw Spike’s eye light up when she mentioned Anya.

“Don’t even think it, Spike,” she said. “If you were having sex with Anya, everyone would know about it, believe me. Okay, I give up, you were right,” Dawn continued, “I am the only friend you have.”

“Not what I said. Said you were the only bird who liked me. Xander and I are friends.”

Dawn looked at Spike’s face moment before replying hesitantly.

“Well, I’m not too sure if I would call the two of you friends, exactly.”

“No? I thought...” Spike’s entire body seemed to slump under Dawn’s now worried gaze.

Quickly Dawn added, “But you did live together for a while.”

Spike lifted his head to look at her and Dawn grinned and nodded.

“We did? I lived with Xander?”

“Uh-huh. For a couple of months. In his parent’s basement. It was smelly and really small. There wasn’t even a real bed, just a pullout sofa.

Wait a minute, Spike thought. She’d said ‘just a pullout sofa’ as in one pullout sofa. And they’d lived there together for months.

“So,” Spike asked casually, “Why don’t I still live with Xander?”

“You guys used to fight a lot. Then you moved out. Later Xander moved into the apartment with Anya.”

It all made sense, Spike thought. The relationship with his lover had been a secret, it had been conducted far from prying eyes, and there was that sexy dominant tone of the note. Add to that the feeling that Xander was keeping something from him and the puzzle pieces fit. Even the way Anya had strangely spouted off to Spike about Xander’s prowess in bed now fell into place. She’d been staking a claim on Xander and he’d been too bloody stupid to realize it.

Xander was his lover.

Part Three

Spike wished he could see his reflection. He didn’t feel gay and he wondered if he looked like a poofter. Intellectually, he knew that there wasn’t a poofter look, but whenever he thought about it, an image of a large, hulking man with a prominent brow, and hair gelled to stand straight up came to mind.

Before deducing that Xander had been his lover, Spike hadn’t considered the possibility that he was interested in men, mostly because of all those hard-ons he got whenever Buffy was around. Wasn’t just Buffy, either. A good number of females he’d seen on television had done it for him, too, Laura Petrie, Ginger and Maryann, Marge Simpson, and Lieutenant Van Buren on “Law and Order”.

‘Course there was also that time when he’d seen Janet Reno on C-SPAN. Now that should’ve given him a clue that he wasn’t as het as he’d thought.

The only explanation Spike could come up with for why Xander was hiding their relationship from him was the engagement. Xander was getting married to Anya. With Spike suffering from amnesia, it must have seemed like a good time to break things off.

Spike knew that Xander’s friendship was what was important. Reluctantly, he decided he would be noble and let Xander go.

* * *

A monster was terrorizing Sunnydale. According to Dawn, this happened almost every week. Buffy had insisted that Spike help hunt it and he wasn’t thrilled that he was going to miss Smallville to do so. He’d planned on taking notes on Clark and Lex’s behavior. However, he manfully swallowed his protests when he was paired with Xander.

“You haven’t been around lately,” Spike said to Xander as they patrolled together. When the words left his mouth, Spike immediately and sincerely hoped that they hadn’t sounded too whiny.

Xander simply shrugged in response as he scanned the wooded area they’d been assigned to search.

“I’ve been busy. The wedding’s coming up and Anya’s starting to freak.”

“How are you handling it?”

“Me? I’m fine. Seems all I’ve got to do is show up and say ‘I do’. Can’t make that much of a mess of things.”

Spike stopped and looked at Xander. Xander’s tone had sounded so defeated. Weren’t weddings supposed to be happy events?

It took Xander a few seconds to realize that Spike wasn’t still walking beside him. When he turned back around, he found Spike studying him, his head tilted at an angle.

“You’re not fine,” Spike finally said.

“Of course, I’m fine. I’m marrying the woman I love. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, having sex, making children eventually, but not now, because Anya thinks we should buy a house first and she feels that those kind of investments in the future are very, very important and….”

Xander ran out of steam. There was a log nearby, and he sat down on it, putting his elbows on his knees and his hands in his face.

“Spike, I’m terrified.”

Spike sat on the log next to him.

“Makes sense. Big commitment.”

“I used to be so sure. Now…I don’t know anymore.”

“Think about why you got together in the first place.”

“That’s easy – sex.”

“Serious, now.”

“I am serious. It was sex. I’d gone through a bad breakup with someone. Someone that none of my friends even liked, so I couldn’t go to them for sympathy. Then Anya came along.”

“Sorry about that.”

“You should be. The break up was your fault. Well, mostly your fault, anyway.”

Spike couldn’t believe his ears. Not only was Xander confessing that they’d had a relationship, he was also letting Spike know that he was miserable with Anya. At that moment, Spike decided to toss that noble ‘letting Xander go’ crap away. All was fair in love and war, right? Wasn’t sure of the love part, but he could definitely turn this into a war.

In the meantime, Xander hadn’t noticed his preoccupation and was still blathering on.

“If you hadn’t taken me to that burnt up warehouse and…”

A loud crashing through the trees interrupted him. Spike and Xander stood up and slowly began backing away in the opposite direction.

“Spike, your eyes are better than mine. What’s it look like?”

“Still a bit far away…oh, oh dear God, it’s horrible.”


“Monstrous. Xander, you do know that I don’t remember how to fight, right?” Spike said, his eyes still fixed on the approaching creature.

“Yeah, but that’s okay. Just do what I do.”

Xander tensed and took a deep breath. Then he screamed.


Spike screamed for Buffy, too. And when Xander began to run away, Spike was only two steps behind him.

Moments later, Clem emerged into the clearing and shook his head in puzzlement. He didn’t understand why Spike had run. Sure, Spike owed him three kittens, but it wasn’t like Clem was going to kill him over a debt.

* * *

The next afternoon, as Dawn ate her after school snack of cabbage, Spike sat down next to her. Dawn raised her eyebrows at him.

“What?” she asked.

“What do you mean what? Can’t I want your company?”

“Ha, right. Now, spill. What do you want?”

Spike sighed. “Need some advice. When you like someone, what do you do?”

“What do I, personally, do or what do you do?”

“Me, I suppose.”

“You usually knock them out somehow and chain them up.”

“Oh.” Spike thought about that for a minute. “And that works?”

“No,” answered Dawn, who took another bite of cabbage and began chewing while Spike stared at her.

“Fine. What do you do, then?”

Dawn swallowed her mouthful, and then smiled beatifically at Spike.

“I usually giggle and flirt and then embarrass myself trying to get his attention.”

“And that works?” asked Spike.

“Uh…not so far,” answered Dawn. “Actually, I was thinking I might try your ‘chain them up’ method next time.”

For a few minutes the only sound that could be heard was Dawn chewing more of her cabbage.

“Hey, Buffy’s had boyfriends, right? Maybe I should ask her.”

“Why ask her? I can tell you.”

“Riight. Like she shares that sort of thing with her innocent sis.”

“No, she doesn’t, but…” Dawn leaned over and whispered conspiratorially “Buffy used to keep a diary.”

“And you’ve read it, “ Spike concluded.

Dawn vigorously nodded her head.

“You really are an outrageously bratty, nosy, wonderfully evil woman, aren’t you?” Spike told her and Dawn grinned happily. “Okay, how does Buffy get her man?”

“That’s easy. She kills things around the guy she likes. I think it gets them all hot and bothered. The whole life in jeopardy thingamabob.” Dawn looked at Spike. “It’s not really a method most people can use, though.”

* * *

There were a few boards on the back porch that were rotting through and Buffy had called Xander to ask if he could fix them for her. That evening, when Xander arrived with his tools and lumber, Spike was standing in the shadows of the house waiting for him.

Spike watched Xander as he walked over to test each section of the porch, finding not only the two slats that Buffy had noticed, but an additional three that were also rotting. Xander glanced up when he saw that Spike was still there.

“You want me for something?”

Oh, he really didn’t just say that, did he? Spike thought.

“Actually was wondering if you needed a hand,” Spike managed to reply.

“I can handle it myself.” When Spike still stood there, staring at him, Xander sighed. “Listen, if you want to help, fine. You know anything about carpentry?”

Spike tried very hard not to roll his eyes. “Wouldn’t remember it if I did, now would I?”

“Got me there. I’ll show you what to do. First of all, I need to get a crowbar out of my car to get these rotten planks up.”

Leaning over, Spike wiggled his fingers into the tiny crannies where part of the board had rotted away and yanked. The board came up with a splintering shriek. Spike tossed it aside, and then went to work on the remaining four. When he finished, he was pleased to see that Xander was staring at him.

“Or we could just rip them out with our bare hands,” Xander finally said, his eyes still wide, “Next we measure, then cut the boards down to size. Now when we cut, we use a saw. Got that? A saw. We don’t just gnaw off the extra with our fangs.”


Xander winked at him and Spike felt his dead heart give a lurch in response.

Spike watched as Xander set up his portable workbench and clamped a measured board onto it. He began sawing and was soon almost halfway through the wood, when he paused and turned to Spike.

“Okay, you finish it up.”

Spike grabbed the saw and jerked it back and forth, before Xander stopped him.

“No, you’re not doing it right.” Xander placed his hand on Spike’s and adjusted Spike’s grip on the handle. Leaning over him, Xander guided Spike’s movements.

“Okay, now what you want are nice even strokes. Don’t press too hard or too softly. Just push it down, then pull it back, push down, pull back, push, pull. That’s it, Spike. See, it’s not that hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Spike muttered.

* * *

Spike glanced over his shoulder and a triumphant smile spread over his features, which he quickly hid. Throughout the evening, Spike had carefully done his best to flirt with Xander without actually doing anything one could call flirting. Then there were all the casual touches, the brushing up against Xander as he moved past, the rubbing of shoulders as they worked side by side, nothing anyone could point to, but it had all finally paid off.

Xander was supposed to be watching him nail down the last plank. Now, as Spike twitched his hips again, he knew that Xander was staring at his arse.

Spike twitched some more and he heard Xander swallow heavily.

“Um…Spike?” Xander ventured, his voice low.

“Yes, Xander?”

“You know, there’s a cream for that.”

Spike stopped pretending to concentrate on his hammering and turned to stare at Xander, whose face was beginning to get red under his tan.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been, ah, uncomfortable. There’s some cream you can buy at the drugstore that should help with all that twitching.

So much for Dawn’s method of getting a man, Spike thought. Did the flirting bit, did the embarrass myself bit - didn’t work. But at least I didn’t giggle, he thought proudly.

A minute later, Xander cracked a joke and Spike found himself giggling. Then he wondered if Buffy’s boyfriend getting method of killing things might work because if things continued like this, he was going to kill himself.

* * *

Andrew stared at the computer monitor and once again cursed that there wasn’t any audio to go along with the video.

Spike truly was the most cunning of vampires. Somehow, he’d infiltrated the Slayer’s home, and was currently on a mission to corrupt the heroic, but incredibly naïve people that surrounded her. Andrew had watched in awe, no, in horror, as Spike had presented himself for Xander. Xander whose will must be iron hard, as hard as….

“Hey, Andrew, anything interesting going on at the Buffy’s place?” asked Jonathan as he walked by, carrying a bottle of yoohoo.

“No,” Andrew blurted, as he moved to block the monitor from Jonathan’s view. “No, nothing is happening. Some very, very minor home repair. That’s all.

Jonathan was looking at him strangely so Andrew gave him his best ‘I’m not up to anything’ smile. After a few seconds of intense scrutiny, Jonathan continued on his way.

When Andrew was positive that Jonathan was gone, he swiftly turned back to the computer screen. Would the sexy, evil, leather-clad blond enthrall the honorable carpenter? Andrew could hardly wait to find out.

* * *

Spike and Xander sat on the steps and drank beer while idly watching Buffy attempt to get four bags of trash in a can that could hold two bags at the most. She’d refused their offer of help, telling them that fixing the porch had been more than enough for one day.

“So,” said Spike as casually as he could, “how’s Anya?”

“She’s okay. A bit angry that I’m over here instead of going over the seating arrangements for the ninety-first time.”

“Seems like you two fight a bit.”

“Nah, only when we’re awake.”

When Spike failed to even chuckle at Xander’s tiny stab at humor, Xander looked at him. Spike appeared to be gearing up to say something important.

“Xander, have you ever considered that maybe she’s not the one for you? Maybe there’s someone else. Someone you care about, or used to care about.”

Xander’s eyes flickered to Buffy for a moment. Currently she was pummeling one of the extra bags and it looked seriously wounded, oozing something that resembled spaghetti sauce from a rip in the side.

“Nope,” Xander finally answered. “Not going there again. Been there, got my heart stomped.”

“Never going to make a return visit, then?” prodded Spike.

“Only if this time I get an engraved invitation,” answered Xander with a smile.

* * *

The next evening, Buffy, Spike, and Dawn were just about finished washing the supper dishes when Dawn asked, “Spike, you did make a dessert for that party I’m going to tonight, right?”

“Sure. Made biscuits.”

“Biscuits?” asked Dawn, puzzled.

“Cookies,” Buffy supplied.

“Oh, cookies are fine. Just as long as it’s not brownies. Janet’s making those.”

Spike saw Buffy look closely at Dawn who was doing her best to avoid Buffy’s gaze.

“Those brownies of Janet’s, she’s not going to” Buffy glanced over at Spike, “make them um…evil or anything, right?”

“Buffy! Of course they’re not going to be evil.”

“Good, because if she did make evil brownies and if you ate those evil brownies, then you’d be in big trouble.”

Seemed like everything was evil in Sunnydale, thought Spike. Even brownies.

* * *

Spike opened the door and let Xander in.

Dawn was at her party and Buffy had called to say she was going to be extremely late. When Spike had realized that the house was going to be empty except for him, he decided it was time to act. He called up Xander and despite some half-asleep grumbling, had convinced Xander to come over.

“So, where’s this emergency you were ranting about on the phone?” Xander asked as he stepped inside. He glanced at Spike, then did a double take.

“Is there some desperate shirt shortage I don’t know about, cause you’ve got an awful lot of skin showing there.”

Glancing down at his bare chest, Spike spoke, “Does it offend you?”

“No, all that whiteness is a bit blinding, but not offensive, unless you have something against muscles, well-defined six-packs, taut…hey, is Buffy around?” Xander asked, forcing his gaze away from Spike.

“She called. Some old boyfriend came by and needed her help with something. Might be out all night.”

“Angel?” asked Xander in a high-pitched voice. “Angel’s in town?”

“No, some git named Riley.”

Xander went from freaked out to excited in two seconds flat.

“Riley’s back? That’s great! That’s wonderful. Buffy must be thrilled.”

An unexpected wave of jealousy swept through Spike. He didn’t remember this Riley character, but he didn’t like the way the prat’s name made Xander all bouncy. Hadn’t liked how Buffy had just run off with him, either, when you got right down to it.

“Don’t think he’s come back for good. Buffy said something ‘bout demon hunting.”

“Oh, well. A visit’s good, too.”

Xander was so excited about the prospect of seeing Riley that when Spike led the way up the stairs and to his bedroom, Xander unthinkingly followed, chatting about things he wanted to talk to Riley about.

Inside Spike was fuming. He didn’t want Xander talking to this Riley. He didn’t want Xander spending time with him. Xander was his, or was going to be his, just as soon as he stole him away from Anya.

When Spike closed the bedroom door behind them, Xander looked around and realized where he was.

“So, what’s up?” Xander asked.

“I am,” snarled Spike, slamming Xander up against the bedroom door and pinning him there with his body.

“Spike? Spike! What the heck is this?” Xander squeaked.

Spike licked his lips in anticipation and eyed the man squirming against him.

“It’s exactly what you wanted, Xander”, he whispered in a voice husky with desire. “An engraved invitation.”

Leaning his head forward, Spike’s lips met Xander’s.

Spike did everything he could think of. He licked and stroked with his tongue. His teeth nipped at Xander’s lips. He used his hands to caress and tease Xander’s cheek, neck, and the line of his jaw. Finally, finally, he could feel Xander stop struggling. After a few more minutes, he felt Xander’s tongue tentatively touch his lips and Spike groaned in response.

Time to move this along, Spike thought. Move it several steps along, all of which were in the general direction of the bed. When Spike lay down and pulled Xander on top of him, he knew that everything was just how it was supposed to be. All was right with the world at last.

The bedroom door opened.

“Xander! Spike!” a female voice screamed. “What are you doing on my bed?”

Willow had come home.

Part Four

“Xander! Spike!” a female voice screamed. “What are you doing on my bed?”

Willow had come home.

Spike watched as Xander pushed back from him, and blinked several times rapidly, before letting out a little shriek and scrambling away. As they were so close to the edge, this resulted in Xander falling off the bed and landing with a thump on his rear. This didn’t stop Xander. He continued to scuttle away like a crab until he had reached the far wall.

The redhead rounded on Spike.

“What did you do to Xander? If you used a spell, I’ll make you sorry you ever crawled out of your grave.”

“No spell. Heard that was your territory, supposing you’re Willow, that is.”

“Supposing I’m Willow?” The redhead turned to face Xander who had managed to pull himself to a stand, but was still pressed up against the wall. “Xander, what’s going on?”

Xander opened his mouth and a noise that sounded like ‘Imnatguh’ emerged.

“Fall off the bed must’ve scrambled his brains,” Spike mused.

“No, I’ve seen him like this a couple of times,” said Willow. “It’s hysteria.”

“Hysteria? You want me to slap him around a bit?”

“Won’t that give you a headache? I mean No! There will be no slapping of Xander.”

“Wouldn’t hurt him. Would never hurt him. Especially seeing how we’re back together.”

Spike looked at Willow and wondered if eyes actually could pop out of their sockets.

“Back together? When were you two ever together?”

Xander moaned and Willow turned on him.

“Xander, are you and…are the two of you….”

“Lovers,” supplied Spike helpfully.

“No!” shouted Xander, throwing off his state of shock at last. “No, we’re not lovers!”

“But....” Spike began.

“We’ve never been lovers. We will never be lovers,” continued Xander, stepping forward to confront Spike. “I don’t know how you got that disgusting idea into that moldy brain of yours.”

“You put it there. Every time I talked about us being friends, you got all coy. Like you were hiding something.”

“That’s because we’re not friends,” Xander yelled. “I hate you!”

Xander’s shout seemed to echo in the silence that followed. Spike searched Xander’s face, hoping for some sign that the words weren’t true. His eyes then went to Willow’s and he saw pity.

Without saying anything, Spike turned and quickly left the room, bumping into the doorjamb on his way out as if he didn’t see it.

* * *

Spike lifted his head from his knees to see Buffy approaching him.

“How’d you find me?” he asked wearily.

“I’m the Slayer. Slayers have an inner radar that goes ping when vampires are near.”

“So I make you go ping?”

“You’re more of a ‘ding, ding, ding’.” Buffy gave him a little smile. “You’ve always been a bit different.”

Buffy seemed uncomfortable as she glanced around the abandoned house he’d sought refuge in. There wasn't much left of the building. The walls had holes, bricks had been knocked from the fireplace, and beams had fallen down. For some reason that Spike couldn’t see, Buffy was staring at a cracked pillar right next to the hole in the floor.

“Spike, what made you come here?”

“Don’t know,” he answered slowly. “Didn’t even know this place existed ‘til I found myself here.”

“Well, it’s time to come home.”

“You mean for me to go back to that crypt.”

“No, back home. Willow’s setting up a cot in the basement for you. When I got back tonight, Dawn was going nuts. They were worried about you.” Buffy added softly, “We were worried about you.”

“And Xander?” Spike asked, his voice betraying a hint of hopefulness that he wasn’t able to fully hide.

“Xander went back to his apartment.”

Spike leaned his head back onto his knees.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” he asked quietly.

“Damn it, Spike, stop it!” Buffy said suddenly, causing Spike’s head to jerk up to look at her. “I can take you arrogant and brash and cocky and….”

“This list going to be alphabetical, is it?”

“Shush. The point is, I can’t take you hurt. You’re not supposed to hurt.”

Buffy looked upset, Spike thought. Usually her face betrayed little when she talked to him, her eyes rarely meeting his. Now there was concern in Buffy’s gaze as well as something else he couldn’t quite identify. She knelt next to him and stroked his cheek with a fingertip.

“I’m so sorry, Spike. When we get home, I need to tell you something, something important.”

She actually expected him to go back? Back to where he’d made such a fool of himself? Spike shook his head.

“Not going to go. Going to stay here.”

“You can’t stay here. It’s wrecked.” Spike looked at her stubbornly, so Buffy continued. “There’s no furniture, no kitchen, no bed.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Buffy thought of something else and her eyes glittered with triumph. “There’s no television.”

Spike gulped. She was right. There was no television.

“That means no “Law and Order”. No “Simpsons”. No “Gilligan”.” Buffy taunted.

No Gilligan? The way his bloody luck was running, he’d be here and miss the episode when they got off the island.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Spike said as he got to his feet. “But just so you know, it’s not like I’d be bored. Plenty of things to see and do here.”

“Like what?”

“Downstairs someone drew pictures on the walls of stick figures doing naughty things to each other.”


“Yeah, tons of different poses, too. I’d think some were impossible except for one thing.”

Buffy gave him a questioning look.

“There’re tally marks underneath the drawings.”

As Spike and Buffy walked to Revello Drive, Spike decided that despite her dislike for him, Buffy was all right. Definitely barmy, though. She kept muttering death threats toward some unknown person as they walked.

* * *

Spike looked up from his cot when he heard someone walking down the steps. Dawn was still at school and Buffy was at work, so it had to be Willow. He and Buffy hadn’t had a chance to talk when they’d arrived back at the house, because Dawn had latched onto him as soon as he’d walked in the door, and only let herself be pried off when he’d promised her that he wouldn’t run away again. She’d even made him pinky swear it.

“Spike? Are you awake?” Willow said softly.

“Am now.”

“I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

Spike sat up and motioned for Willow to sit next to him. When she did, she held her hands in her lap, looking as if she wasn’t sure what to say.

“So. No memory, huh?”

“Not a lick.”

“Buffy asked me if I had anything to do with this.”

“Did you?”

Willow shook her head vigorously. “No, I’d never do something like that. Except, I kind of did a few months ago. But that was a mistake and I’d never, ever do it again. Besides, Xander said you got hit in the head.”

Spike put his head on Willow’s shoulder and his arm around her waist. For a moment she stiffened, before relaxing against him.

“You truly thought you and Xander were...close, didn’t you?” she asked gently.

“Xander and I were friends. For a bit. Bollixed it up.”

Willow reached out and patted Spike’s leg.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Willow consoled. Spike looked at her incredulously and she sighed. “Fine, it won’t be okay. Maybe it won’t even get to just plain awful. But maybe it will get to the point where you don’t cringe whenever you think of it and want to hide under the furniture.”

At Spike’s look, Willow added, “I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff myself, lately, so I call dibs on hiding under the dining room table.”

“Heard you were trying to stop using magic.”

“Yes. It’s addictive.”

“It is?” Spike peered at her. “Like heroin, is it?”



Willow shook her head.


Willow shook her head again.

“Cigarettes? Booze? Gambling?”

Willow kept shaking her head.

“It’s more like chocolate,” Willow finally volunteered.

“Chocolate? Not an addiction.”

“It is! There have been scientific studies that prove chocolate....” Willow began before Spike interrupted her.

“Fine. You’re addicted. Long as the gods you pray to aren’t Hershey, Mars, and Nestle.”

“Nope. Maybe Godiva, though.”

Spike shuddered. And they called him evil.

Willow gazed at the blond head still on her shoulder.

“I’ve been wondering about this amnesia of yours,” she said. “Vampires heal extremely quickly and it seems as if you should’ve gotten your memory back by now.”

“Don’t know anything ‘bout that.”

“I think I’ll call Angel. Maybe he knows what we can do.”

“Who’s Angel?” Spike asked, his curiosity over this elusive figure getting to him. He watched as Willow hemmed and hawed before saying, “Nobody important.”

Willow eased away from Spike and stood up to leave. She was at the bottom of the stairs when Spike’s voice stopped her.

“You’re gay, right?”

“Yes, Spike, I’m gay.”

“There’s something I was wondering about.”


“Do you think Ginger and Maryann had a thing for each other?”

“How would I know?” asked Willow, shocked. “I mean, of course not.”

“Oh,” Spike said, disappointment evident in his tone.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Willow added, “I did always wonder about the Professor and the Skipper.”

Spike was smiling happily as Willow left the basement.

* * *

It was close to nine o’clock when Spike stood on the porch and waited for Xander and Anya to arrive. Earlier, Buffy had told him that the couple had contacted her, wanting to talk to him, so she’d arranged this meeting.

In an effort to give Spike some semblance of privacy, Willow had gone upstairs and insisted that Dawn join her. Spike would bet everything he had, which wasn’t much, that Dawn was doing her best to eavesdrop.

Buffy was stationed nearby, arms crossed, also waiting. Spike wasn’t sure if she was there to lend him support or to keep any bloodshed to the minimum.

When Anya and Xander climbed the steps, Spike straightened up and braced himself for the confrontation. Xander was looking everywhere but at him. Anya, however, was smiling.

“Spike, since you don’t have your memory, this is your one and only warning,” Anya said matter of factly. “If you ever try to steal my boyfriend from me again, I will get a demon to curse you with ugly toes. You will have ugly toes for the rest of your life and never be able to wear sandals again.”

Spike looked at the heavy boots on his feet, but only replied with a nod.

“Also,” Anya continued, “thank you for last night. Xander gave me many lovely orgasms to prove his heterosexuality. I would consider it a wonderful wedding present if you come to our wedding and make a point of kissing both the bride and the groom. But no tongue, Mister, or it’s ugly toes for you.”

That was it? Spike thought. Feeling a bit relieved, he responded, “Nope, no tongues.”

“Good. Now Xander has something to say to you,” replied Anya, tugging Xander forward.

Xander had his hands in his pockets and seemed to be doing a careful examination of the work they’d done on the porch a few days earlier. Spike looked down to study it, too. Was that nail just a bit bent?

Anya poked Xander in the side impatiently. He let out a little yelp, glared at Anya, before turning his gaze to Spike.

“Spike, I…”

“I’ve been looking for you Spike,” a voice shouted from the dark. “Or should I say, ‘Doctor’?”

A tall, muscular man stalked onto the porch.

“Riley,” said Anya.

“Riley?” said Buffy.

“Riley!” said Xander.

Spike decided that this must be Riley.

The git was enormous. Spike glanced over at Buffy, then glanced again at Riley and mentally compared heights. When they’d dated, had she carried a box around to stand on all the time or did she just have intimate knowledge of his navel?

The man was angry and coming closer. Spike backed away.

“I found all the eggs in your crypt, Spike.”

“Who are you? The cholesterol police?”

“Demon eggs. Dangerous demon eggs. Like you didn’t know.”

“Riley, he really doesn’t know,” said Buffy reaching out a hand to catch Riley’s sleeve as he shouldered past her to confront Spike. “He’s got amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Riley said disbelievingly and let out a short, harsh laugh. “He’s playing you. He’s always played you so you’ll let him live. Well, he doesn’t fool me.”

In a flash, Riley slammed Spike up against the wall of the house.

“This time, Spike, you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”

Spike squirmed but couldn’t get loose. He could hear Anya and Buffy in the background, then suddenly he was free. Riley was sprawled on the porch and Xander was standing over him, breathing heavily.

“You don’t touch Spike! You never touch Spike!” Xander shouted.

Riley scrambled to his feet and looked at Xander in confusion.

“Is this one of your stupid jokes, Xander? You hate Spike.”

“Yeah, I do,” Xander said, moving so that he was between Riley and Spike. “But he’s also my friend. He’s just the friend I happen to hate most of the time.”

“Spike’s helped out a lot, Riley,” said Buffy, stepping up to stand next to Xander.

“I don’t understand you. Any of you. This is Spike. He’s evil.”

“But not really, really evil,” said Xander. “With Spike, you go in expecting to get your throat ripped out, but instead you’re called a name. Spike’s like the softer side of evil.”

Buffy placed her hand on Riley’s arm.

“I’m sorry, Riley,” Buffy said, “But Spike’s one of us now. He’s a good fighter, and he cares about Dawn and me. He can be kind and funny. He’s a good listener...."

“And a damn good kisser,” added Xander.

* * *

Andrew stared in wonder at the screen. The muscular Adonis had been overcome by lust and pinned Spike to the wall. Xander, in a fit of jealousy had pushed the stranger away.

“Take your hands off of him,” Andrew whispered, his voice deep, pretending to be Xander, and adding his own script to the drama unfolding before him. “This is my vampire.”

“What do you mean ‘your vampire’? Do you love him?”

“Yes, I do. We are mated. Our essences are forever entwined.”

Switching to falsetto, Andrew continued as he filled in words for Buffy. “Xander is now Spike’s consort.”

Andrew’s voice lowered once more.

“But Spike is too strong and powerful!” Andrew said, now pretending to be the stranger. “One human can never satisfy his lustful desires.”

“I know Spike is powerful. But if one human can never satisfy his desires, then I will gladly die trying,” Andrew had Xander say gallantly.

Once again, Andrew switched to his Buffy voice. “I’m sorry, stranger. But perhaps you might want to consider a woman. Although none can compare to Spike. He is a sex god.”

“And a damn good kisser,” he added in his Xander voice.

Andrew saw a look of passion pass between the vampire and Xander and stepped away for a moment to fan himself. In the background, he could hear Warren outlining another stupid plan to Jonathan. While they worked on their insignificant plots, Spike already had the Slayer and her friends bewitched. The masterful vampire was well on his way to becoming the Overlord of Sunnydale.

* * *

In the living room, Buffy and Anya were busy discussing with Willow and Dawn the scene on the porch. Xander and Spike decided to escape the embarrassment of hearing a discussion of their relationship by hiding in the basement.

Within minutes, Spike and Xander had run out of inconsequential things to say to each other and were going to have to tackle the subject they’d been trying to avoid. Spike silently vowed to study some sports to chat about so that this situation never arose again.

Sitting several feet apart on the cot, Spike glanced at Xander curiously.

“Did you mean what you said?” Spike asked.

“About you being my friend? Yes. I did.”

Spike smiled, then a mischievous light appeared in his eyes.

“Did you mean the other part? You know, 'bout me being a great kisser.”

“I said ‘good’. And I was lying.”

“You said ‘damn good” and you weren’t lying. Unless you meant to say fantastic.”

“You were not fantastic, Spike. You were...adequate.”

“Adequate? That why you were practically panting for me to take you?”

“You take me? Ha! I was going take you. You’re definitely a bottom.”

“Am not a bottom. I’m the vampire. Faster. Stronger.”

“Scrawny. Short. Plus you dye your hair and used to paint your nails.”

“I’m evil.”

“Right. You’re the evil bottom.”

“I’ll show you who’s the bottom,” laughed Spike, launching himself at Xander.

They were concentrating so hard on wrestling with each other that they failed to hear the basement door open or Dawn descend the steps.

“Buffy! Willow! Anya! Spike and Xander are doing naughty things on Spike’s cot,” Dawn yelled.

Dawn almost got trampled in the rush down the stairs.

Spike wondered if he would soon have ugly toes.

Part Five

In the basement, Spike had his arms full of warm, wiggling Xander, when he heard Dawn’s announcement about he and Xander doing “naughty things on his cot.” As the clattering on the stairs increased, so did Xander’s squirming. Unfortunately, the squirming was now in an effort to get away, so Spike quickly released his hold, and stood up.

Xander rose and hastily took several steps away from the cot.

“We were just wrestling,” he stammered. “Not doing the nasty, um, anything nasty.” Taking a breath, Xander added a little too loudly, “I’m not gay and I wish people would stop thinking I am.”

Hurrying forward, Anya grabbed his hand. “Of course you aren’t. It’s not your fault that people judge you on how act, how you talk, and how you keep looking at Spike’s ass.”

Spike’s eyes widened. He would’ve loved to continue this conversation, but Anya was pulling Xander up the stairs, talking about how they needed to get home and address wedding invitations. Dawn, Willow, and Buffy remained in the basement, staring at Spike.

“Show’s over.” With a wave of his hand, Spike indicated for them to leave. Buffy and Willow did so, but Dawn remained behind.

“Next time,” Spike said frustrated, “should sell bloody tickets.”

Dawn considered that for a moment. “How much do you think we could get?”

* * *

“He’s not happy.”

Willow looked at Spike over her cup of herbal tea, not having any idea what he was talking about.

“Who’s not happy?”

“Xander. Don’t think he wants to get married.”

“That’s not true. He loves Anya.”

Spike shrugged, grabbed the mug of blood he’d heated in the microwave, and sat next to her. “Not saying he doesn’t love her. Just saying he’s having second thoughts.”

Willow studied Spike as he drank his blood. “Maybe you just want him to be having second thoughts. I remember, even if you don’t, the way you manipulated us when you allied with Adam.”

“And why would I do that now?”

“To get to Xander. Then you could have your evil way with him because you’’re....”


“Right. Thank you.”

Spike drained his mug, stood, and walked to the sink. With quick, efficient movements, he rinsed the cup, and then turned to face her.

“Don’t believe me. Ask him. Just don’t let him joke or weasel out of it, like he does. Pin him down, even if you have to put him in a headlock to do it.”

That evening Willow went to see Xander. When she returned, she walked down the basement steps to where Spike was busily folding clothes.

“You were right. I can’t believe it, but you were right.”

Spike said nothing, concentrating hard on folding a bottom sheet. He hated folding bottom sheets.

“I’m his best friend. He’s supposed to tell me, not you, when he’s upset.”

“Probably didn’t want to bother you. Have your own problems with that cocoa addiction of yours.”

Spike continued to struggle with the sheet while Willow plopped down on his cot. Frustrated, he finally wadded it up and figured he’d stick in the back of the linen closet. By the time they pulled it out, he’d be long gone. He glanced over at Willow, wondering if she would rat him out.

“What are you planning to do?” she asked.

“Planning to stick it as far back in the closet as it will go,” Spike confessed.

“Spike, I wasn’t talking about your sexuality. I was asking about Xander.”

Oh, good, thought Spike, Willow hadn’t noticed the sheet at all. He dropped the bundle on top of the rest of the folded clothes and strode over to her.

“We’ve got to stop it,” he told her. “We’ve got to stop Xander’s wedding.”

* * *

When Spike told Willow that he would come up with a plan, she put her foot down. She told him that none of his plans ever worked. He refused to believe that until she told him about some of those plans. It was pretty depressing.

Similarly, Spike told Willow that she seemed too sweet to come up with a plan and stick with it. They needed someone sneaky and underhanded.

They recruited Dawn.

* * *

Dawn decided they would convince Anya that if she got married, sex would become boring. The best way to do this, she figured, would be for them to leave out for Anya to read articles and letters to Dear Abby complaining about that problem.

The recycling bin near the university was raided and a trunkful of newspapers were brought home. The three conspirators spent hours searching the papers.

Spike cut out another letter and placed it in the growing pile. “Lackluster marriages must be a bloody epidemic.”

“I don’t think these people are in love,” said Willow, who caught herself reading a horoscope from three weeks before.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Know all about it, do you?”

“No.  But you did,” answered Willow.

“What do you mean?”

“You were with Drusilla for more than one hundred years before she dumped you. If two vampires can love each other for that long without becoming bored, then these people who get bored after a couple of years can’t really be in love.”

“But this Dru, she dumped me?” Spike asked.

“When you kidnapped me to perform a love spell you told me that she said you’d gone soft. That’s all I know, but I have always wondered what happened.”

Spike went back to looking for articles and pretended not to hear when Dawn whispered to Willow, “Bet you the reason Dru dumped Spike had something to do with too much rum and a cabana boy named Paolo.”

* * *

Anya twitched a bit when she read several of the articles they’d found and Dawn, Willow, and Spike congratulated each other. Two days later, an enormous carton from Naughty Nites arrived at the Magic Box. Anya had murmured, “Just let him try to be bored,” as she’d signed for it. When the box’s arrival was followed by a loud phone call by Anya complaining to customer service that she’d specifically ordered the strawberry not the cherry flavored lotion, they knew their scheme had failed.

Dawn decided that their next plan would be to get Anya interested in someone else.

“Besides Xander, what other men do we know?” asked Willow.

Spike cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

“There’s Jonathan, except now he’s evil,” said Dawn.

Spike cleared his throat louder “Ahem!”

“Oz’s friend Devon is cute. Unfortunately he doesn’t have many prospects. Anya would never go for him.”

“AHEM!” Spike shouted.

“Do you need a lozenge?” asked Dawn.

Willow began to jump up and down excitedly. “I know! I know! I don’t know why we didn’t think of him before.”

Spike smiled.

“We’ll match her up with Giles,” Willow announced proudly.

Spike wondered if vampires could die by banging their heads against brick walls.

* * *

Buffy was doing her best to teach Spike the basics of fighting. Each night, they spent more than an hour in the training room at the back of the Magic Box before she left for patrol. She assured him that his body would remember the moves, even if his mind did not. After several sparring sessions, Spike was confused. Was it truly necessary to straddle vampires before you staked them?

One evening, Willow, holding a letter in her hand, rushed into the back room where Buffy and Spike were training. Dawn and Anya followed close behind.

“Buffy, could you get off Spike for a moment?” Willow asked. “I need his opinion on something.”

With a sigh of reluctance, Buffy rolled off of Spike and allowed him to stand.

Since Anya and Dawn were staring at him, Spike reached for the shirt that Buffy had told him not to wear while sparring because it was too easy for her to grab. Despite the lack of shirt, Buffy still seemed able to find plenty to grab, Spike thought ruefully.

“What is it?” Spike said.

Anya managed to tear her eyes away from Spike’s chest, which was now covered with a shirt, and toward the letter Willow was still clutching.

“Willow has this strange idea that Giles likes me,” Anya stated. “Likes as in wants to have orgasms with me.”

“He does! Giles wrote Anya a letter. Spike, you're British. Tell Anya what this sentence means.” Willow began to read. “'I hope this letter finds you well.'”

Everyone looked at Spike for an interpretation.

“Um...British people say that when they want to shag you,” Spike lied.

“They do?” asked Anya disbelievingly.

“They do?” shouted Buffy.

Visibly upset, Buffy rushed from the room. Anya took the letter from Willow and stared at it for a long moment.

“I didn’t know he felt like that. We kissed, but I didn’t think it meant anything to him.”

“You kissed Giles?” asked Dawn.

“What was it like?” said Willow, who reddened, then quickly added, “I mean, you kissed Giles?”

“We kissed when we were under the Willow’s memory spell. It was quite nice.”

Xander walked in carrying a bag of chips.

“Does anyone know why Buffy just called Giles to tell him that she loves him like a daughter, but only as a daughter?”

Dawn smiled brightly at Xander and said, “I have absolutely no idea.”

Anya ignored Xander’s interruption. “Actually, the kiss was more than nice, what with the whole putting his entire body into it. But there were no tongues.”

“Tongues? When were there no tongues?” asked Xander.

“Why, when I kissed Giles,” replied Anya.

“You kissed Giles?” exclaimed Xander.

Spike had had enough.

“Bugger this!” Spike shouted. Everyone stared at him, as he continued. “Dawn, Willow, this isn’t going to work.”

“It will!” assured Dawn. “We haven’t even pulled out the big gun yet.”

Spike sighed in exasperation. “Dawn, your big gun is a picture of Xander holding hands with the Easter Bunny.”

“You held hands with the Easter Bunny!” yelped Anya in horror, backing away from Xander.

“I was five,” Xander explained.

“That’s no excuse,” said Anya, still moving away.

“See – it would’ve worked,” muttered Dawn.

Spike grabbed Dawn and Willow and started pulling them toward the door. Opening it, he pushed them through, and then turned to face the engaged couple.

“You two need to talk.” Spike’s eyes met Xander’s. “You need to be honest. If you’re not honest, you might wind up hurting someone.”

Stepping back, Spike closed the door, giving Xander and Anya privacy. He spun around to see Willow looking a bit disappointed and Dawn fuming. Buffy was still on the phone.

“You promise you only love me like a father loves a daughter, right?” Spike heard Buffy say.

* * *

“You thought I wrote this?” asked Xander incredulously to Spike.

Everyone was sitting around Buffy’s kitchen eating ice cream. Xander and Anya had talked and decided to cancel both the wedding and the engagement. Although Anya was not thrilled, the prospect of making Xander take her out on dates and give her gifts helped ease the pain.

It seemed as if Anya had also decided that Xander could use a little competition. Spike had overhead Buffy trying to calm Giles when he'd called to ask “why Anya kept telling him that she hoped her letter found him well. Especially since she was on the telephone at the time.”

While they ate their ice cream, Spike brought out the note he’d found in the crypt and everyone, except for Buffy, took turns examining it. Buffy was standing on the other side of the room, trying hard to ignore the group, and concentrating on her cone.

“The writer doesn't say "Hi" or anything. It just starts out with ‘Spike’”. Willow read the note aloud again. “'Stopped by, but you were out. When I come by again, you better be naked and tied to the bed.'” Willow glanced up at her audience. “How can you tie yourself up?”

“There are lots of ways you can tie yourself up,” volunteered Anya. “It’s much harder to untie yourself, though.”

“What happens if the other person doesn’t come?” asked Dawn.

“Hey, sitting right here!” Spike said, insulted. “Don’t remember specifics, but I’m sure I always make my partner....”

Willow quickly interrupted the indignant Spike. “I don’t think she meant it like that.”

Anya answered Dawn’s question. “Spike’s a vampire. It’s not like he’d have to get loose to go use the bathroom or anything.”

“This is just so...freaky. You really thought I wrote this?” repeated Xander.

“Is a bit domineering,” Spike said. “Should’ve sussed out that it couldn’t be you.”

“Hey, I can be domineering.”

“You can?” asked Willow.

“You betcha, I can.”

As one, they all glanced at Anya who was silently shaking her head.

There was a soft knock on the backdoor and a woman stuck her head in and looked around.

“Excuse me? I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Spike glanced up at the woman who entered. She was lovely, all soft and curvy. Could have spent hours exploring her. Could’ve dived into her depths and never wanted to come up for air. Could’ve....

“Ow!” he yelped.

Willow was glaring at him as he rubbed the spot on his ribs where she’d dug in her elbow.

“Spike, this is Tara,” Willow hissed.

Spike arched an eyebrow and answered “Your Tara?”

“Yesss,” Willow said through gritted teeth.

“Oh.” Spike looked again at the newcomer. “You’ve got good taste,” he said.

Tara was turning pink under his gaze. Dawn had rushed to her side and was hugging her. Spike and Willow both looked at Dawn with envious gazes.

“What’s going on?” asked Tara.

“Spike lost his memory,” said Dawn, still cuddled against Tara.

“And he thought that I was his lover,” said Xander.

“He’s been staying here,” added Willow.

“But he was having sex with someone,” said Anya. “He found a note saying so.”

“A note he thought I wrote,” said Xander. “Thus the whole thinking I was his lover bit.”

“But Xander didn’t write the note,” explained Dawn, leaving Tara’s side to return to her seat. “And we don’t know who did.”

Tara glanced over at Buffy. Buffy was concentrating hard on her now melted ice cream. The cone had a small hole in it at the bottom and she was sucking from the bottom to prevent it from dripping.

Sticking out her chin, Tara took a deep breath and turned toward Willow.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Willow looked puzzled, then thunderstruck as she realized Tara’s meaning. Spike was practically bouncing up and down with happiness. There was a crunch as Buffy crushed the ice cream cone in her grip.

“Wait a second, it was you? You’re Spike’s lover?” questioned Xander.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” stated Anya.

“Yes, I’m Spike’s lover,” said Tara. “After I broke up with Willow, Spike and I started having sex. Lots of sex. We did things together…things that you wouldn’t believe.”

Anya piped up. “I’d believe it. Tell us.”

Dawn also looked eager to hear about it. So did Spike. Willow was letting out small little whimpers. Strangely, Xander was letting out small little whimpers, too.

Tara held out her hand to Spike, who gleefully walked over to grasp it. With a quick glare at Buffy, Tara spoke to the group.

“I’m going to take Spike back to my place now. Once we get there, we’re going to have more sex.”

Still holding Spike’s hand, Tara turned to walk out the back door when a knife struck the wood near her head.

The knife was still quivering, making a deep thrumming noise, when Buffy, her voice low and deadly said, “Take your hands off of him, you lying little witch.”

* * *

Spike crept into the abandoned house. He knew she was here. All his senses were telling him so.

“Buffy?” he called.

There was a small answering noise, so he went further inside and found Buffy sitting on the edge of the damaged fireplace. There were no tear tracks on her face, but she looked pale and tired.

“Buffy, you all right?”

“Everybody hates me.”

“They don’t hate you.”

“They do. Willow and Xander were furious. Dawn called me every nasty name in the book for not telling you about us.”

“No, she didn’t. Didn’t call you snail slime. That’s right nasty. Didn’t call you sewer breath or toad puke or....”

“Do you hate me, Spike?” Buffy interrupted.

Reaching out, Spike took a strand of hair that had fallen in front of Buffy’s face and gently placed it behind an ear.

“What’s there to hate?” he said. “Took me in, you did. Put a roof over my head and blood in my mug.”

“But I didn’t tell you the truth.”

Spike did his best to avoid her eyes by studying the crumbling brickwork around her.

“Doesn’t take a brain surgeon or Willow to figure out the why. From what I can make of it, wasn’t the most popular of fellows.”

“It wasn’t that.” At Spike’s look, Buffy amended her statement. “Well, not just that.  Most of it was me. It seemed like you were the only one I could talk to. Willow pulled me from the grave, but part of me still felt dead. When I was with you, I felt alive.”

Tilting his head, Spike watched Buffy as she explained her reasoning. She placed her hand on his arm and he almost cursed the fact that the leather duster he wore kept him from feeling her heat. He didn’t actually curse it because it really was a cool coat.

“I knew that I shouldn’t sleep with you. I hated you. But I couldn’t stop. When you lost your memory,” Buffy was said, “it was as if I had a reprieve. I never, ever, meant to hurt you.”

“You hated me?” Spike asked.

Buffy sighed. “We were starting to be friends. Then we slept together and it messed things up.”

“Maybe we could make another stab at it. The friends bit,” Spike proposed tentatively.

Extending his hand, Spike helped Buffy to stand.

“I’d like to be friends with you,” she answered softly.

As they turned to leave, Spike asked, “So, did you take a gander at the pictures downstairs?”

“Yes,” said Buffy. “They were disgusting.”

“Yeah, weren’t they,” Spike said with a smile at the memory.

“I added a bit of my own graffiti,” Buffy said shyly.

She pointed to the some markings on the wall next to the fireplace and Spike moved over to read what she’d written.

Scribbled in lipstick on the flaking plaster he read:

There once was a vampire named Spike
Who I told to go take a hike.
When he hit his head
His memories fled.
Now he’s someone I really like.

Spike read it a second time. Then a third.

“Well?” asked Buffy expectantly.

Spike tried his best to hold it back. He tried very, very hard. But when he opened his mouth, it burst out of him.

“Oh, Buffy, it’s beautiful!”

* * *

Buffy hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. The house was quiet. Xander, Anya, and Tara must have left and Willow and Dawn were probably asleep. Spike stood next to her, waiting for her to go up to bed before he went downstairs to his cot.

“Spike, I know I said we’d try being friends, but...can I kiss you goodnight?”

Leaning forward so that their lips were practically touching, Spike said, “No memory. Not barmy.”

Softly they kissed, as if afraid that it wasn’t real. Barely tasting one another before drawing back. Buffy lifted her hands to Spike’s neck to bring his mouth back down to hers when the lights flicked on.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, boy?” a voice growled.

Spike glanced to the living room, where a stranger stood next to a lamp. The man was huge, both tall and broad. His brow was thick and his hair was gelled to stand straight up.

It was a poofter. It had to be.

As the man moved closer, Spike was shocked to see the large brow become ridged and the eyes turn yellow. The poofter was a vampire?

Backing up a step, Spike gasped, “Who’s that?”

Buffy protectively moved so that she stood in front of Spike. She placed her fists on her hips and faced the stranger.

“Nobody important,” she replied.

Part Six

“What are you doing here, Angel?’

That’s Angel? thought Spike, peering at the vampire over Buffy’s shoulder.

“Willow called me. She said there was a problem with Spike. Seems the problem is that he’s still in one piece.” Angel’s eyes sought out Spike’s as he prowled closer, and Spike shivered.

“Stop it, Angel. And lose the fangs. You’re scaring him.”

“I’m scaring him?” Angel’s face became normal, if normal was looking like he’d been smacked with a fish.

“He lost his memory,” Buffy snapped. She then turned around, placed her hand on Spike’s arm, and drew him closer. “Spike, this is Angel. Angel was the one that made Drusilla a vampire and Drusilla was the one that made you a vampire. So, he’s not the one that sired you, and I don’t think there’s anything called a Grandpa Sire, but he’’s....”

“Know what he is,” said Spike. In a blur of movement, Spike launched himself at Angel, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close.

“He’s family!”

Spike’s voice was filled with emotion as he hugged Angel.

Now Angel looked like he’d been smacked with two fish.

* * *

Spike wasn’t bothered by Buffy’s slightly worried face when Angel told her he wanted to take a walk with Spike and talk to him. He’d readily agreed. Yet Angel hadn’t said two words since they’d started out, so Spike did the talking, instead.

Spike told Angel about the latest failure of Gilligan and his friends to get off the island. He told of Dawn’s refusal that day to eat her snack of rutabaga. “It’s a vegetable. Vegetables are healthy, right?” he asked Angel.

The only response Spike got as they walked was a sputtering cough from Angel when he tried to explain his relationship with Xander.

Occasionally, Spike would skip ahead to point out where Buffy had killed a vampire or, in one case, where Buffy had killed a demon that had quite a few curves, four on top in fact, and did Angel know what kind of demon that was, and where Spike could find more of them?

After each of these little jaunts, Spike would return to Angel’s side and, with a grin, bump up against him. He would jostle the older vampire with his arm as they walked before his attention wandered to something else that he thought Angel had to see.

They were in the cemetery when Angel stopped walking and faced Spike. “Tell me about Buffy.”

“She’s great. Takes good care of her sis and me. Even been teaching me how to fight.”

“You were kissing her.”

“Found out tonight that she and I were lovers.” Spike stated proudly. “Seems like the sex was a bit kinky, too.”

Spike heard Angel take in a hiss of air, but ignored it. “Seems a shame I don’t recollect it. Now, she wants to be friends, which is all right by me. Especially if it includes kissing.”

Angel swung a fist at Spike. Unfortunately for Angel, it was at the precise moment when Spike moved to point out an interesting headstone. Surprised, Spike looked at Angel, then smiled broadly.

“Want to see what Buffy taught me, do you? Lucky for me, you aimed to the side like that. Might have hit me otherwise.”

“Yeah. Lucky, all right,” growled Angel.

Gleefully, Spike continued to dodge Angel’s blows. After a few minutes, he decided it was time to show Angel what he’d learned in his recent sparring sessions. With a happy yell, Spike leapt forward, knocking Angel onto his back. Before Angel could recover, Spike was straddling him.

With a hand on each shoulder, Spike kept Angel pinned to the ground. Then he did what Buffy always did when she had him in this position. It had never been explicitly discussed, but he’d noticed that she did it every single time.

He ground his crotch into the body beneath his.

Angel froze immediately; his eyes filled with shock. Pleased at how well the move had immobilized the vampire, Spike ground down again.

“Oh...god!” groaned Angel.

Spike leaned over so that his face hovered inches above Angel’s. “I win,” he whispered, before hopping up and away, leaving Angel lying on the grass.

While waiting for Angel to stop that strange panting, Spike glanced around the cemetery and stopped when he spied a familiar building. He could hear Angel coming up behind him, but he didn’t move.

“Spike, what the hell was...Spike? Spike, you okay?”

Angel’s eyes shifted to see what Spike was staring at.

“What’s that over there?”

“Nothing. Just...just my crypt. Not important.”

“Really? Do you want to show it to me?”

“No!” Spike shouted.

“Come on,” Angel urged as he moved toward the crypt. “I want to see it.”

Spike reluctantly followed Angel inside. As Angel prowled around, poking at the decrepit furniture, Spike kept his gaze on the floor.

“You’ve been living here?” he heard Angel ask finally.

“Guess so.”

Spike slowly raised his eyes and saw the disgust in Angel’s expression when he looked at the interior of the crypt. Even though Spike burned with shame, he tried his best to protest Angel’s assessment.

“The downstairs was nicer, but…Buffy told me Riley blew it up.” Spike scuffed his boot in the dirt on the floor and muttered “Hate Riley.”

“I hate Riley, too,” Angel said softly in reply.

Angel smiled at Spike and Spike gave him a small smile in return. Angel’s smile faded and his face became serious.

“I’m going to help you get your memory back, Spike. And when you do, I want you to remember one thing.”

Angel leaned closer to make sure he had Spike’s full attention. “You can always come to me for help. Always.”

Spike gulped, then closed the gap between them and hugged Angel hard. When two strong arms enfolded him and hugged him back, Spike felt as if everything was perfect. But then perfect became better when he heard Angel murmur, “We’re family.”

Spike stepped away from Angel, rubbed his eyes, and complained about the dust. As they left the crypt, Spike decided he liked the feel of Angel’s arm around his shoulder. He turned his head so that he could see Angel’s profile as they walked together.

“What do you want to do now?” Spike asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Angel said slowly, as if measuring his words. “Maybe you can show me how you fight vampires again.”

* * *

It was a surprise to Spike that Buffy was still awake when he and Angel returned to the house. Buffy’s eyes skimmed over him, his mussed hair and clothes grabbing her attention.

“What happened, Spike? Did Angel do anything?”

“We had the best time, Buffy. We talked and talked. Then I showed Angel how you taught me to fight vampires. I won all four times!”

Buffy’s arched eyebrow did nothing to lessen Angel’s grin.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” she finally said. “I worry about him, what with the whole forgetting thing.”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure,” Angel smirked.

The eyebrow shot back up. Still not finding anything to call Angel on, Buffy turned to go upstairs.

“It’s almost morning. We’ll talk about this later. In the meantime, we’d better get to bed.”

“Angel can sleep with me,” Spike suggested.

Buffy stumbled on a stair. Angel began to cough noisily. “Know the cot’s small, but could scrunch up a mite.”

“No!” Taking a deep breath, Buffy added more calmly, “It’s too small. I’m sure Angel would be much more comfortable on the couch.”

Angel’s smirk was even bigger than before. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Shut up, Angel. You’re on the couch.”

Spike could hear Buffy complaining to a non-existent listener as she went up the stairs. “Is it too late to want them to start fighting again?”

* * *

“There’s a spell, I once heard about that might get Spike’s memory back.” Angel told the assembled Scoobies the next morning. “I called Giles and he’s going to research it and get back to us.”

Angel turned to face Buffy. “Is Giles okay? He acted strangely. When he answered the phone, without even knowing who I was, he announced that ‘he really didn’t care to hear anymore about the bloody cherry lotion.’”

Spike, Willow, and Dawn turned to stare at Anya, who was seated on the couch next to Buffy.

“It’s strawberry lotion,” Anya huffed. “Why does everybody get it confused with cherry?”

Xander cleared his throat. “What about Wesley? Isn’t he going to help? He’s got his degree from Watching U, right?”

“Wesley doesn’t work for Angel Investigations, anymore.” At the puzzled looks around him, Angel continued in a voice that seemed devoid of all emotion. “We had a falling out. He kidnapped my son and I tried to kill him with a pillow.”

“You have a son?” shouted Xander.

“Wesley kidnapped him?” shouted Willow.

“Vampires can make babies?” shouted Buffy, who appeared to be on the verge of fainting at the news.

Angel ignored their questions. “I really don’t want to talk about it. The issue is getting Spike’s memory back.”

Spike wasn’t listening. He was too busy trying to figure out why anyone would use a pillow to try to kill someone. No wonder Angel had lost all of their fights.

Even though Angel was family, one thing was clear to Spike--

Angel was an idiot.

* * *

The Scoobies stood on the porch and let Angel instruct them according to the spell he’d received from Giles.

“We’re doing the spell out here because it can’t be performed indoors. As Tara chants the spell, Spike should be drinking from me. The rest of you need to be surrounding us. As he begins to drink, you need to clap to the rhythm of a heartbeat.”

Angel demonstrated and the gathered Scoobies nodded their understanding. “Now, Spike, you need to bring out your demon.”

Spike tried to reach deep within himself to call up the demon face. “Grrr.”

“Nope, not bumpy,” Spike heard Xander say.

“Grrr!” Spike tried harder to get fangy.

“Heck, I can do better than that,” said Dawn.

Anya added, “I have done better than that.”

Buffy looked worried. Willow, however, looked thoughtful. “Maybe he could stand on his head and drink a glass of water. Or maybe we could scare him.”

“That’s for hiccups, Willow,” Xander pointed out.

Angel shoved Spike against the wall. “Come on, boy. Bring it up. Now!”

Spike was pinned. Angel’s body was plastered over his and Angel’s mouth hovered next to his ear.

“You’re pissing me off, Spike,” Angel hissed. “And do you know what happens when I get pissed off? People die.”

Shock caused Spike to stiffen and he could hear Angel let out a harsh grunt of amusement. “It wouldn’t be you I killed. That’s not my style.”

Spike watched as Angel lifted his head and turned it so that he could see the humans that surrounded them; Buffy, Xander, Willow, Tara, Anya, and Dawn. When he turned back to face Spike, there was a predatory smile on his face.

“You have friends, now, don’t you, Spike? Human, vulnerable friends. Friends you would mourn if they happened to be, say, torn apart.”

A cry of rage tore through Spike and he felt his face shift and fangs emerge.

Angel nodded in approval. “That’s my boy.”

“See,” Willow said smugly. “The scaring worked just fine. Hiccups, hah!”

“Start the ritual. He’s ready,” Angel ordered Tara, his voice still part growl.

While Tara began to speak the words of the spell, the others formed a semi-circle around the two vampires and started to clap their hands in rhythm.

“Feed from me, Spike,” said Angel. “Blood calling to blood.”

With a roar, Spike sunk his fangs into Angel’s neck.

* * *

Spike felt as if he were waking from a deep sleep when his fangs slipped out of Angel’s neck. With a shake of his head, his face returned to normal. Spike’s first thought was that he was as hard as a rock against an equally hard Angel. His second thought was that Angel was practically dry humping him in front of the others. With a growl, he pushed an astonished Angel from him. The clapping stopped as the Scoobies stared at him.

He could remember everything. Spike remembered being a prat in London before being turned. He remembered killing with Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla. He remembered fighting against Buffy, then fighting for Buffy, and finally loving Buffy. Spike also remembered the last few weeks, when the Scoobies had become his friends. He remembered everything.

Then a terrible thought struck him.

“Bloody hell! Gilligan and that lot never get off the island, do they?”

* * *

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” repeated Andrew as he drew back from the monitor.

Spike had recruited a vampire to his service. The Slayer and her friends had been so under the blond vampire’s spell that they’d stood around and clapped, as Spike and his new conquest had necked on the porch. Necked in that literal; bloody; and sexily enticing way.

Now, even other demons were being enthralled. It was only a matter of time before Spike ruled all of Sunnydale. There was only one thing for Andrew to do

* * *

“I have come to serve you, oh Great Master of Sunnydale,” Andrew announced.

Spike stared. Who was this git? He felt Buffy, Willow, and Xander step up so that they were standing next to him.

“Is this a trick?” accused Buffy.

“No, not a trick.” Andrew was vehemently shaking his head. “I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to the Dark Lord Spike.”

Digging into his backpack, Andrew revealed computer discs and printouts that he handed to a bewildered Willow.

“Since it’s obvious that a new order has risen, I decided that it was foolish for me to remain with Warren and Jonathan with their lowly plans for world domination.”

“And the leader of this new order is Spike?” asked Xander.

“As you well know.”

Buffy decided it was time for her to take charge. “Willow, take that evidence and see what information you can get out of it. Let’s put Warren and Jonathan away for good. Xander, take Andrew and tie him up for now.

“What?” screeched Andrew. “I’ve joined forces with you. I’m your compatriot, your comrade, your brother in arms.”

“You’re an idiot and our prisoner,” said Buffy.

As Xander dragged Andrew away, Spike could hear the git whine, “Does this mean that I don’t get to neck with Spike?”

* * *

As the humans celebrated the end of the evil trio, Spike and Angel quietly left the house to stand on the porch. Spike did a quick check of the boards that he and Xander had replaced. He considered pointing them out to Angel, but stopped when he realized that he’d already shown them off. Twice, in fact.

“You leaving, then?” Spike hadn’t meant to say that to Angel and mentally gave himself a kick. He hoped it hadn’t sounded as if he was actually going to miss the poofter.

“My life’s in L.A., now.” Angel replied. He moved so that he was standing only a foot away from Spike, who shifted, but didn’t back up. Angel’s voice dropped down to a husky murmur. “Your life could be in L.A., too, if you want.”

“Suppose you expect me to stay in one of those empty rooms in that hotel of yours, like those other prats you have working for you.”

Angel took a step closer so that when he spoke, his breath brushed over Spike’s skin. “Actually, I was expecting you to stay in my room.”

Spike opened his mouth in shock and Angel reached out and placed his finger on Spike’s lips. “My bed’s much bigger than your cot, but we could still scrunch up together.”

Angel let his finger drift from Spike’s mouth, down over his chest, until it rested on his belt buckle.

“Think about it,” Angel coaxed, before turning around, walking to his car, and driving away without looking back.

Spike stood on the porch and contemplated Angel’s offer long after the elder vampire had left for Los Angeles. He heard footsteps behind him and relaxed when he recognized that they belonged to Xander.

When he’d had amnesia, Xander had been his friend. A brief flash of the memory of Xander’s lips flitted through Spike’s thoughts, but he quickly brushed it away.

If they were still friends, he probably shouldn’t start out by insulting Harris, Spike decided. Dismissing the snarky remark that automatically came to his lips, he glanced at Xander and let his concern for this human come to the fore.

“Heard Anya moved out. That right?”

“Yes. And despite rumors to the contrary, it’s just a coincidence that she decided to get her own place five minutes after she learned that Giles might come back to Sunnydale.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

Spike heard Xander let out a deep sigh before answering. “Actually, I should be thanking you. Things might have turned out worse, if you hadn’t interfered.”

For a few minutes, Spike and Xander stood quietly together and gazed at the stars before Xander spoke again.

“You know, Spike, since it’s your fault I don’t have a girlfriend, the least you can do is keep me company.”

“Thought you said you should be thanking me.”

“Changed my mind.”

“Oh.” Spike lit a cigarette and took a deep drag of it. “Company, huh? What were you thinking of, then?”

“I don’t know,” Xander said nonchalantly. “We could go to the Bronze and hang out. Listen to music, kiss a bit, maybe have a few beers.”

Spike almost choked on his cigarette smoke.

“Right, you hate American beer,” said Xander. “I guess you could drink whisky instead.”

“Not that” Spike stopped sputtering and took a deep breath. “Thought you weren’t gay. It’s what you’ve been babbling every five minutes.”

“That’s because I’m not gay.” Xander leaned toward Spike until his lips were close enough to Spike’s ear that his whispered words were a caress. “But I’m thinking that I might be bi.”

With a huge grin, Xander turned away and skipped down the steps. When he reached the grass, he spun around to face Spike.

“So, tomorrow night -- it’s a date?”

Shakily, Spike nodded. Xander’s instruction for him to be ready at eight seemed to come from far away.

Damn, Spike thought as Xander drove away, the boy was a dominant after all.


He turned to see Buffy leaning against the doorjamb.

“Are you coming in? Willow, Tara, and I are waiting for you so we can start the video. Also, you’re the only one who can keep Dawn and Anya from hogging the popcorn.”

“You go ahead. Going to stay out here for a while.”

With a shrug, Buffy gave Spike a small smile and went inside to join the others. Spike could hear their happy murmurings as they fought over the sofa and the popcorn bowl.

They were now his family and friends. And quite possibly more, Spike decided as he thought of Buffy and the gentle kiss they’d shared. There was also Xander and their date tomorrow to think about, as well as Angel’s invitation to come to L.A.

Spike had his memory back; he knew what was in his past. His future, though, was up in the air. He didn’t have the foggiest clue what was going to happen next, except for one thing. Luckily, it was a very important thing.

It was going to be fun.

The End

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