Measure Of A Man

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It was searching. Always searching. Since gaining its freedom, it had done nothing else. Floating high above the heads of all those people it had found here, it sent its power through the room, searching for the one thing that would sustain it. And it found what it needed.

Slowly, gracefully, it glided lower, approaching a couple that was arguing heatedly as they stood among their friends. The man, a big, burly guy in his twenties, was just perfect for it. The yells of the couple echoed within the circle of friends, but was swallowed by the music and laughing of the people nearby.

It reached out to the man tentatively and touched his soul. A jolt of pleasure shot through it, like an electric current, giving it life and power. It drank greedily and with each swallow, it could feel the hatred and jealousy flaring higher inside the human. It rejoiced at the prospect of such potential and sank its being further into the young man’s soul.

Then suddenly, something caught its attention. Rage so powerful and rich in abundance that it was almost left disoriented hit it with unmatched force. It lost interest in the arguing couple immediately and made its way through the crowed, seeking the source of such a sweet essence.

The man was not hard to find. His jealousy burned like a bright beacon, guiding it through the crowed. He was different than the others. It remembered beings like him, but it had never met anyone of his kind with the ability to feel like this. It didn’t mater though. He would provide it with all it needed for tonight. And hopefully the nights to come as well.

With a cry of joy it invaded him and drank deeply from the rich nectar of his demon soul.

********

The club was crowded, as always. Loud and up-beat music echoed through the large room, which was only dimly lit. It gave the appearance of a refuge, a cozy place to forget about the misery of real life. A place to dance and drink your problems away.

Spike leaned casually against the bar of the Bronze. A half-full bottle of beer was dangling at the neck between his thumb and his index and middle finger. He watched the crowed on the dance floor passively, an air of apathy surrounding his lean muscled form.

Raising the bottle to his lips, he took another sip of the cool liquid, letting it roll inside his mouth before swallowing it.

Originally he’d come here to get utterly and completely drunk, but once he’d actually entered the club, he’d quickly lost interest in his own plan. The reason for that was simple.

She’d been here!

He’d sensed her the minute he’d walked through the door. The light, not uncomfortable tingling that started at the base of his spine and quickly spread over his whole body had been a sure sign that she’d been here. He’d felt it on the first night that he’d met her. At first he’d tried to discard it as a response to what she was. After all she was the Slayer. His enemy. And she could sense vampires, although in a very limited way. But even then, he’d known. He had killed two of her kind and faced off against at least half a dozen others but he’d never been able to feel their presence.

It had not taken him long to pick her out of the crowd. Dressed in a black and silver tank top and a short black skirt that hardly covered the top of her thighs, she’d been dancing sensually to the slow, tantalizing song that the band had played at that moment. He knew the boy she'd been dancing with but he honestly didn’t care.

He’d watched her. His eyes had traveled over every curve of her small but oh so powerful body as he’d slowly made his way over to the bar. Her swaying hips, her arms reaching high over her head, her eyelids half-closed… he’d never seen her looking more beautiful than this. She was captivating… entrancing. Judging from the expression on the boy’s face, Spike wasn’t the only one thinking this way. The young man was devouring her with his eyes, arousal and desire clearly written across his features.

He’d snorted then. The whelp didn’t stand a chance of satisfying her… of course, in his own opinion he was the only one who ever could, but that was beside the point... wasn't it? He couldn't help but feel a tingle of sympathy for the guy, though. He knew that he’d be just as bad off if she’d been rubbing up against him that way for more than five minutes. He’d ordered a beer and continued to watch her until she’d left about an hour ago.

Part One

Taking another swig from the now almost empty bottle, he turned away from the dance floor. With her gone he’d lost interest in the gyrating couples filling the club. He stared off into space for a few seconds, drowning out the music and conversations around him.

Damn, he wanted her. Badly. He had right from the start, but over the years his desire had only increased, leaving him restless and frustrated. Hell, he’d even been so desperate to get laid that he’d used Harmony as a substitute!

A light tap on his shoulder brought his thoughts back to reality. He turned to face the beautiful black haired girl that had approached him and gave her a devastating smile.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked him, batting her eyelashes coyly at him.

Spike let his appreciative gaze travel over her feminine body. She was pretty enough, he decided... and hey, if he couldn’t have Buffy and Harmony was still mad at him… what the hell?

"Sure pet." He grinned and lead her to the dance floor. The music was still fast and hard and he spend the first minutes dancing away the tension in his neck. Then a slow song started and the girl pressed her body to his immediately. He smiled inwardly, thinking that this would be easier than he’d thought it to be.

She moved her hips in slow circles against him, causing a certain part of his body to stand up and take notice again. Her hands wound through his hair and suddenly she pressed her lips to his in a hard and bruising kiss. Her boldness caught him off guard and he withdrew his head to look at her slightly confused. She just smiled at him and tried to kiss him again. When he evaded her, a small frown began to sweep over her features.

"What’s wrong?" she asked him. Her voice had a slight edge to it, indicating that she was annoyed at his actions. Spike opened his mouth to answer, but before the first word could leave his lips, a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder and he was pulled backwards and spun around.

A startled yelp escaped the vampire and he reflexively grabbed the arm of the man, who’d grabbed him, in order to steady himself. When he'd regained his balance he found himself face to face with a tall, big, muscle-packed football player type guy, whose eyes seized him up angrily.

"Keep your paws off my girlfriend, mate." He growled dangerously.

"Jesse, we were just dancing," the girl said, hiding behind Spike’s back and hugging her arms around his waist.

Jesse, who was built like a football-player and very likely was one, didn’t look very convinced and stared pointedly at her hands on the vampire’s stomach. "Just dancing, huh? Looked like tonsil hockey to me."Spike pushed the girl’s arms firmly away from him and sidestepped so that he was no longer trapped between her and her boyfriend. "Listen, this is obviously a misunderstanding. Why don’t you just take your girlfriend, mate, and I'll leave," he said with forced calm.

Inside he was sizzling. Under normal circumstance, he’d have already snapped the bloke’s neck and his girlfriend’s right along with it. Unfortunately, the circumstances weren’t normal. Thanks to the soddin’ chip in his head he couldn’t hurt any of them without getting a mind splitting headache. And if he tried to kill them, he’d probably drop unconscious from the pain the implant caused. Therefore he was forced to swallow his pride, dignity and homicidal tendencies, and talk his way out of this instead.

"Who you’re calling ‘mate’ here?" Jesse hissed and took a threatening step forward. Spike didn’t budge; he’d be damned if a bloody human would get the better of him, chip or no chip.

A small group had already started to assemble around them and two people detached themselves from the crowed and walked into the open area, to stand right behind Jesse. His friends, no doubt.

"All right…" Spike began, holding his hands up in reluctant surrender and finally took the step back to keep the guy out of his personal space."… there is no need to…"

"Jesse, come on. I was just trying to make you jealous." The girl interrupted him.

Spike’s head snapped around. Jealous? She was using ‘him’ to make that guy jealous? He couldn’t believe it. Who did she think she was? He was goddamn gorgeous. Women were all over him ‘all’ the time. All right, so maybe not all the time lately, but still… it was outrageous!

"You little bitch!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm roughly. Immediately pain exploded in his skull, and he let her go as if he’d burned himself. Then he put his hands to his head, trying to ward of the agony caused by the chip, but to no avail.

The next thing he felt was hands gripping the lapels of his duster as Jesse picked him straight off his feet and brought him nose to nose with his beefy face.

"No one calls my girl a bitch. Is that clear?" The question was theoretical, of course. Not waiting for an answer he dropped the vampire back to his feet and punched him. The blow connected solidly with Spike’s chin, snapping his head back.

The bleached blond vampire stumbled two steps backwards and carefully examined his face for blood and broken bones. The blow had been hard and fast and he was relieved when he discovered himself to be uninjured, except for the throbbing right at the spot, where the man’s fist had hit him.

It took all his self control not to lash out at the football player, but the dull ache in his brain, triggered by the graphic thoughts running through his mind, were enough of a reminder not to take any action.

Thankfully he didn't have to. Just when football - player - guy and his friends started to move in on him, two of the Bronze’s bouncer stepped through the crowd.

"If you guys wanna fight, you take this outside." One of them said, gesturing towards the door. The other merely crossed his arms over his broad chest and fixed them with a steely gaze.

Every instinct in his vampiric mind screamed not to let this go unchallenged, but after taking a few unneeded breaths, Spike took another step backwards.

"Fine. I’m out." He called, turning his back on them. He walked back to the bar and ordered another beer, ignoring the shouts from Jesse and his friends.

"This ain’t over yet, scumbag." The football player yelled across the room, stabbing his finger in Spike’s directions. His friends nodded in silent support.

Spike just snorted, annoyed and increasingly ticked off at his own predicament. He gulped the cold beverage down at once and ordered another one, right away. He sooooo needed to get drunk.

******

It felt dizzy with power. The creature had given him so much and the man he’d fed on before had just given him an additional boost. It was satisfied and almost bursting with energy. It was time to rest now! Slowly, almost lethargic, it floated up to the ceiling and right through it. Higher and higher it soared, seeking the cold of the air.

When it felt that it had enough height, it veered off, past the cemetery that was near the Bronze, heading for it’s home. The only place where it could rest. Once there, he gathered himself in the small space and sank into oblivion, until the next night.... when it would feel hunger again.

********

It was only twenty minutes later, when he left the Bronze. The music and people were getting on his nerves and even the alcohol didn’t hold any appeal to him, once the first anger had subsided.

His stride was slow and self assured as he walked down the alley, heading for his crypt.

He heard them, before he saw them. And there were more than three guys approaching, too. Looked like Jesse had brought along a couple of his friends.

*Wankers!* he thought, but moved to the fire stairs in order to go up to the roof. After all he couldn’t very well fight his way through them, much less talk his way out of it.

He barely made it up the first two steps, when the first guy rounded the corner. The boy’s eyes, not Jesse, fell upon him immediately and he gave a shout of warning to his friends. Then he bolted for the stairs, his buddies only two steps behind him.

They would’ve never gotten him. But Murphy’s law, wouldn’t be Murphy’s law if he’d just be able to walk out of this. His duster caught on the rusty iron of the balustrade. Spike stopped and jerked forward, hoping to get away. He heard the terrifying sound of tearing leather and whirled around.

"My duster! MY DUSTER! Bloody hell, _my duster_!!!" Then they were upon him. He was roughly pulled back to the ground and before he even realized what was happening, blows were raining down on him form all sides.

"I told you, that we’re not finished yet." Jesse’s voice echoed loudly through the narrow alley, as he grabbed Spike by the back of his coat and pulled him backwards.

A knife sliced neatly through the tender flesh on his lower rip cage and the vampire howled in pain. At that moment something snapped inside of him. With a loud roar he tore away from the burly man and punched his face as hard as he could. Jesse’s face snapped backwards, as the bone of his nose was forced into his brain, killing him instantly.

At the same time, a wave of pain crashed into Spike’s mind, forcing him to his knees. His hands went automatically up to his head, leaving his body defenseless.

Through the numbing haze that had enveloped his brain, he was barely aware of the cries of fear, outrage and hatred around him. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he had to force himself to open them again. A fist connected with his face, throwing him onto his back. A boot hit his rip cage, another one his back. Another fist was brought down on his face and finally Spike realized that they wouldn’t stop before he was dead.

Of course, with him being a vampire, he wouldn’t die easily. However, if he lost enough blood, they just might be able to pull it off.

He had no idea where he found the strength to throw them off, but even this defensive act send a new stab of white hot pain from his skull down his spine, making him stumble even before he was completely on his feet. For the first time in centuries Spike felt fear course through him. The adrenaline numbed the pain somewhat, enough for him to momentarily break free of his attackers.

He made one single step, then he was grabbed again and spun around. The vampire leaped off his feet and send a high-kick to his opponents face…and came crashing to the ground, almost unconscious with pain. He didn’t see if he’d caused any damage to the guy, nor did it matter.

They were upon him like a pack of hungry wolfs, beating the crap out of him. He didn’t even realizing slipping into unconsciousness, but at one time the pain just stopped and he was surrounded by blessed darkness, not feeling or hearing anything.

Part Two

He drifted slowly back into awareness. Every bone in his body ached; only his head felt oddly numb. Spike forced his eyes open and was greeted with darkness and a strange burning sensation. He moved his hand and rubbed it slowly over his features, his fingertips coming away smeared with dark red liquid. The burning in his eyes was caused by the blood that had trickled from a wound in his head. He pulled himself into a sitting position, still not entirely conscious, and used the bottom of his red shirt to wipe as much blood off his skin as possible.

His movements were slow, almost trance like, and he realized with sudden clarity that the numbness that had started to replace the pain in his limbs came from his blood loss. He needed to feed and he needed to do it fast. He was already too weak to heal his injuries so they wouldn’t close. Somehow he managed to push himself to his feet and lean against one wall confining the alley.

His hand pressed unconsciously against his stomach as a light throbbing pain flowed over him in that area. He remembered the knife sliding into him and looked down. The wound was deep and bleeding furiously onto his clothes as were several other incisions that he must have received while he’d been unconscious. If he’d been human, he would be dead by now. Of course, if he’d been human he would have died two centuries ago and not gotten into this situation in the first place.

Spike was too weak and exhausted to even speak. Instead he rattled off every single swearword he knew in his mind and concentrated on moving. The alley was deserted but there was blood everywhere, particularly at the spot where he had crumpled to the ground earlier. Jesse’s body was nowhere in sight, and Spike assumed that his friends had taken care of him and were now trying to make up a believable story for the police and his parents.

He dragged himself to the street and leaned once again against the wall for support, his forehead pressed to the cool stone, trying to break through the numbness in his brain and form coherent thoughts. Where should he go? His crypt would be safe, but he needed to feed. The whelp was out of town and the Slayer was probably busy shagging someone who wasn’t him. So it was the Watcher’s home then.

Spike pushed himself off the wall and staggered onto the street. He could feel that sunrise was not far away and knew that he had to hurry, a task that was almost impossible to accomplish in the shape he was in.

He reached the condo’s front door with barely a few minutes left before the sun would grace the horizon, and took a last ditch effort to raise his hand an knock on the door. The only thing keeping him on his feet was his willpower and he was running short on that as well. His hand slumped weakly against the wood, the noise barely audible, and he forced himself to try again. His left hand was still pressed against one of the knife wounds in his stomach and a wave of dizziness hit him full force, causing him to fall forward as his knees threatened to give out from under him.

His forehead connected with the door, but he hardly felt it. He desperately tried to concentrate, knowing that if he didn’t get inside immediately he’d be dead in a matter of minutes. The first tendrils of light were sneaking over the rooftops, claiming the city as their own for another day.

The door was suddenly pulled open and he fell forwards, right on top of the Slayer.

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed in shock, as the dirt and blood covered vampire collapsed into her arms.

His gaze focused on her for a split second. "Buffy..." was all he whispered, then he blacked out

******

"Giles! GILES! I need help."

Buffy dragged the unconscious vampire to the couch and dumped him on top of it. Then she kneeled down beside him and turned him onto his back. She gasped in horror when she took in his battered appearance. There was blood everywhere - on his clothes, on his face, on his hands, in his hair. And he looked pale. Too pale, even for a vampire. Cold dread swept through her body as she quickly but carefully tore his black shirt open straight down the front.

Giles came practically running down the stair at her urgent call. He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the ground floor of his condo and his eyes fell on the blood covered form on his couch.

"Oh dear,” he said, then rushed into the kitchen to get a bowl of water.

While Buffy stripped Spike’s duster and the remains of his shirts completely off his body, Giles got clean towels and a first aid kit out of the bathroom.

"What happened ?" he asked as soon as he entered the living room again. The older man kneeled down besides his Slayer and began to wet one of the towels. Menwhile, Buffy already started inspecting the vampire’s wounds. Neither of them wasted a single thought on the fact that this was Spike they were taking care of. Giles was too shocked at the sight of a formerly powerful nemesis in this condition and Buffy...Buffy was crying.

Tears were streaming down her face without her even realizing it. The vampire was still bleeding from numerous wounds and Buffy was certain that those slashes covering his chest and abdomen were caused by knives.

"I don’t know, Giles," she choked out, grabbing a towel. "He collapsed the second I opened the door. But this looks bad. Really bad." She carefully washed the blood off his alabaster skin, moving slowly so she wouldn’t accidentally cause him even more pain.

Giles nodded in silent agreement. This was definitly bad. He was wondering which demon had been able to best Spike, William the Bloody, so badly that he’d ended up in this condition. The thought that it might have been a human didn’t even cross his mind at that time.

It took them well over an hour to clean the bleached blond vampire and tend to his injuries. With combined effort, they carried him up to the bedroom and tugged his shoes and pants off his body. Buffy was too worried to find the energy to blush when she discovered that he didn’t wear anything beneath his clothes. She just wanted him to wake up, make a sarcastic comment that would drive her up the wall, and be all right.

They tugged him under the covers and Buffy proceeded to take care of the smaller cuts and bruises, while Giles went to Willie’s bar to get some blood bags.

Buffy was sick with worry. Seeing him like that caused a sick feeling deep in the pit of her stomach and she vowed that she would find whoever had done this to him and kill him slow and painfully. She patched another cut across his stomach, that wasn’t very deep and had already stopped bleeding.

A low moan escaped the vampire’s throat and the Slayer’s gaze shot up to his face. Spike’s features were distorted in pain, his demonic visage finally surfacing as he slowly emerged from unconsciousness and became aware of the pain coursing through his body.

Buffy winced in sympathy and raised her hand to his face, trailing her fingertips over his ridges. His eyes fluttered open, the long lashes brushing repeatedly against the tender skin under his eyes as his unfocused gaze drifted over to her.

"Blood." he whispered so quietly, that Buffy almost didn’t hear it. The need in his voice was palpable and Buffy noted that if anything, his skin was even paler than when he’d fallen through the door.

"Giles is on the way. He will get you something to drink." she said quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

Suddenly he grabbed her hand with surprising strength, but the movement seemed to drain his energy considerably, because his grasp loosened almost immediately. Buffy closed her fingers around his and held on for dear life.

"Too late...need..." His voice broke and he closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow.

Buffy felt herself starting to panic, because she had understood the meaning of his words all too well. Reluctantly, she dropped his hand and dashed downstairs. There, she picked up the phone and dialed Willie’s number. After seven rings, the snitch picked up the phone and Buffy basically screamed at him to tell Giles to hurry up.

When Willie informed her that the former Watcher had not arrived yet, but that he’d pass on the message, Buffy felt herself trembling. She dropped the phone and ran into the kitchen, not even thinking about her actions. She pulled a knife out of the drawer and raced back upstairs to Spike. Once there, she sat down on the bed and after another look at the dying vampire, she determinedly pressed the blade to her wrist and sliced across it. Bright red blood welled up immediately and Buffy twisted her body onto the bed and pressed the wound against Spike lips.

At first nothing happened and Buffy almost started screaming in fear and frustration, but after a few seconds she felt the light suction of his mouth and breathed a sign of relief. The vampire swallowed slowly but continuously as Buffy moved carefully further up on the bed so that she could cradle his head in her lap.

Her fingertips ran soothingly through his short blond hair and after a few minutes she could hear him purring softly. She knew from Angel that the sound was emitted unconsciously and a small smile was tugging on her lips. She realized that he was going to be O.K. and let him take a couple more sips before she gently detached her wrist from his mouth.

Buffy bandaged her wrist with the supplies she found in the first aid kit and was just about to get up when she heard the front door burst open. Seconds later, Giles came running up the stairs, his arms full of blood bags.

He noticed the bandage around her wrist immediately, but didn’t comment on it. Instead he gave her one of the bags. "Here, he might need more."

Buffy knew that he was not happy about her giving her blood to the blond vampire and they would definitely have a discussion about this, or more to the point, she’d have to endure another lecture, but she really didn’t care at the moment. She nodded in thanks and used the knife to open the bag at the top. Then she held it to his lips and lifted his head with her hand, so he wouldn’t spill everything on himself and the bed. He was still frighteningly pale, but seemed to be semi-conscious, for he started drinking immediately and without hesitation. After the bag was empty Buffy repeated the process twice more before he shook his head, refusing another one.

Giles leaned against the wall and studied the two figures on the bed intently. He noticed how tenderly Buffy treated the vampire, her fingertips caressing his forehead and short hair and her eyes fixed on his face. She looked truly scared by his condition.

Giles was no fool. He was very well aware of the growing attraction between his Slayer and the blond vampire. It was not something that he agreed to, or would encourage in any way, but when it came right down to it, there was nothing he could do about it. With a sigh, he cleaned up the bed, gathering the first aid kit and the empty plastic packets in his hands. He left the full ones on the nightstand beside the bed and walked to the stairs. He gave Buffy a questioning look when she finally acknowledged his departure, but she shook her head.

"Go ahead. I’ll be down in a sec."

Another heavy sigh escaped the Watcher. Oh, he knew exactly where this was heading and he didn’t like it one bit.

******

Buffy studied the vampire laying in her lap. He didn’t look quite as pale anymore. His lips had regained color and were almost back to their normal light pink hue, and she was sure that his cheeks were also gaining back the minimum of color they usually possessed. Buffy chuckled quietly when she realized that she had studied his face so often and thoroughly that she was able to tell the difference.

At the light shaking of her body Spike groaned and his eyes opened slowly. His eyes searched hers and Buffy couldn’t suppress the slight gasp or the tingling in her stomach when she saw the emotions swirling in his deep blue orbs. She felt herself drowning in those beautiful eyes and shook her head in order to free herself of the spell she was under.

Spike’s hand reached for hers and their fingers entwined and he pressed it weakly. "Thank you," he said quietly. His voice was barely above a whimper, but it sounded a lot stronger than his urgent words had mere minutes ago.

She gave him a tentative smile, feeling heat rise to her face, not in embarrassment but in reaction to the knowledge that she’d saved his life and he was grateful for it. "You’re welcome," she answered just as quietly.

Silence penetrated the room as they continued to stare into each others eyes and Buffy felt her heart rate accelerate considerably. Just looking at him made her feel all mushy inside, and she had long ago given up scolding herself for feeling this way. Every woman with eyes in her head would be attracted to him, and she was a woman, so there was nothing wrong with that. Even if he was a vampire!

"What happened?" she finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. "Which demon did you piss off this time?"

He gave her a rueful smile and snuggled further into her embrace, causing Buffy to swallow heavily, but she didn’t pull away.

"No demon, luv. I got myself into the middle of a lovers quarrel." He started laughing, the deep rich sound echoing of the walls of the apartment. After a few seconds he stopped abruptly and winced, his hand leaving hers and pressing against the bandage around his abdomen.

Buffy cringed when she saw the pained expression on his face. She could not believe that humans had done this to him. He was strong enough to.... Then she remembered the chip in his head and that he couldn’t hurt any living being. Buffy was shocked as she realized how vulnerable and exposed he must feel with the implant preventing him not only from killing, but also from defending himself if necessary.

"Oh God," she breathed, for the first time fully comprehending what he was going through.

"It’s all right, luv," he tried to assure her. "I’ll live...well, not really, but you know what I mean." His voice was growing slurred, and Buffy saw that he had trouble keeping his eyes open.

"You should try to get some sleep," she said firmly. Buffy detached herself from the vampire and gently laid his head on the pillow. She stood beside the bed as his hand shot out and clutched her wrist. She gave a slight yelp, as his fingers pressed against the cut on her skin and he loosened his grip immediately.

"Buffy..."

"What?"

Their eyes locked once again and Buffy felt her knees go weak. Her lips parted slightly, and she leaned closer to him. She could see that he was forcing himself to stay awake. His lips were moving, but the words were too quietly uttered for her to understand. She fixed her gaze on the gentle lines of his mouth and drew closer in hopes of understanding him.

Suddenly he stopped speaking and her eyes shot back to his face. Buffy gasped in shock and desire when she saw the longing in his darkened eyes. The blue orbs closed for a second in concentration. When he opened them again, he had drawn on the remainder of his strength and whispered. "Buffy, I...."

"Buffy? Would you come down here, please. There is someone on the phone for you."

Buffy almost groaned out loud, when she heard Giles’ voice. Her gaze involuntarily flickered to the stairs and when it drew back to Spike’s face, she saw him leaning back into the covers already half asleep.

"Good night Spike." she whispered, hoping that he would finish the sentence when he woke up. Then she turned and left the bedroom, hurrying down the staircase.

Part Three

Buffy hurried down the stairs and took the phone from Giles.

"Hi," she choked out a bit breathlessly

"It’s Riley. Are you coming any time soon? ‘Cause it’s already eight in the morning." He sounded upset and impatient. Buffy couldn’t blame him.

After leaving the Bronze with him, they had wanted to go to the dorms and spend more time together, maybe even the night although Buffy had been a bit reluctant about that. She liked Riley and enjoyed spending time with him, but she wasn’t sure if her feelings were really deep enough to go that far yet.

They had just entered her room, since Buffy had insisted that she needed to use the bathroom, when Willow had told them that Giles needed to see her right away. She had called the librarian, trying to postpone till morning, but Giles had insisted. He wanted to discuss a prophecy with her that she needed to be prepared for, but he’d promised that it wouldn’t take very long.

Riley had promised to wait for her in his room and Buffy had taken off. She cringed when she realized that he probably thought that she wanted to get out of sleeping with him, but didn’t have the guts to say it straight out.

After a moment of reflection she had to admit that the assumption wasn’t all that far off. Ever since Spike had stumbled through the door she had not wasted a single thought on Riley. On the contrary, when Spike had snuggled into her arms, she hadn’t been all that far away from snuggling right back and doing other things to him.

"I’m sorry Riley. This is going to take longer than I thought. Maybe we should take a rain-check?" she apologized.

"All right. If it’s that important. I’ll see you after the weekend then. Bye!"

"Bye, Riley." Relieved that she’d gotten off the hook without much trouble, she put the receiver back and walked into the kitchen, to where Giles had retreated. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready to face the next problem on her list.

"All right, say it," she challenged.

"Say what?" the former librarian asked, giving her a fake look of curiosity.

"You know what. I saw that look you gave me upstairs."

"Then you know what I think about it," he replyed.

"Giles, he was dying. And I called Willy, but you hadn’t even been there yet. I had to do something."

Giles sighed deeply. "You do remember that this is Spike? A ruthless killer, without a soul. I don’t even want to know how he ended up like this, and I honestly dread the consequences of it."

"It wasn’t a demon that beat him up this badly, Giles. They were humans." she stated, imploring him with his eyes.

Giles gave her a shocked look. "Good God. How did this happen?"

"He said something about a lover’s quarrel."

"One that he caused, or just got caught in?" the man asked skeptically.

"I think he just got caught in it," she answered meeting his doubtful glance sternly.

"You think?"

"Giles, this is a problem. He used to be able to deal with anything that I threw at him. He is an excellent fighter and could always take care of himself. But now.... he’s helpless. He can’t defend himself if he is attacked by humans or any other being that has a pulse. This must be hell for him. Not that I want him to become his old self again. He’s much more likable when he doesn‘t indulge himself in his homicidal tendencies, but he’s suffering. He won’t admit it, but I can see it. And call me crazy if you like, but he doesn’t deserve this. It’s like putting a wild panther in a cage. It gets frustrated and aggressive and as soon as it gets free again it will pretty much kill anything in its vicinity. Just think what Spike would do if he got the chip out of his head. I’m not sure if I would stand a chance against all that bottled up rage inside off him."

Giles leaned his hip against the counter and took his glasses off. "You gave this a lot of thought, didn’t you."

"I’m really worried." she confirmed his question.

"So what do you suggest then? That we find a way to get the chip out of his head? You know that you’ll have to kill him if he goes after humans again, and I believe that he won’t give up feeding on them just because we’ll ask him to."

Buffy squirmed uncomfortably. "Couldn’t we.... you know... tell him to leave town?" She saw that Giles was about to protest and quickly added. "I know that he will go on feeding on people, and kicking him out of Sunnydale doesn’t solve the problem, but.... Giles after all he’s been through.... Can’t we just let him go? I’ll stake him if he ever comes back, I promise, but ..."

"You’re falling in love with him." Giles stated.

Buffy’s eye's shot back to his face and she started to deny it but Giles interrupted her right away. "Don’t try to deny it, Buffy. You have feelings for him. Feelings that go beyond compassion. You don’t think of him as your enemy anymore and that makes it hard to kill him. You want him to live, even though you know that he’s a vampire. And you also know that he’s nothing like Angel." Giles sighed. "Do what you think you have to do. You’re old enough to know the dangers and I can’t stop you, but I want you to know that I’m not happy about this. Not at all."

Buffy nodded and fumbled for words. "Would you... look for a way to get the chip..."

Another sigh penetrated the room. He seemed to do that a lot lately. "I will." He gave his Slayer a small smile. "You should get some sleep!"

"Can I stay here?" she asked hopefully.

"All right, take the couch. I’ll call a couple of people about the chip." Giles put his glasses back on and walked out of the kitchen, squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of comfort when he walked past her.

Buffy turned around and headed to the stairs. "I’ll take the love seat in front of the bed, if you don’t mind."

He shook his head while pulling his address book from a drawer by the phone. "Go ahead."

"Night."

"Good night, Buffy."

When Buffy re-entered the bedroom Spike was fast asleep, not moving at all. His head lay half on, half beneath the pillow and the covers were drawn up to his chin. He looked almost boyish like this, but when Buffy thought about the body underneath the sheets, she knew that there wasn’t anything about him that was not completely manly. This time she did blush at the memory.

Chuckling quietly at her own reaction, she curled up on the small love seat and fell asleep before her head hit the cushions.

******

Spike drifted slowly back to consciousness. He didn’t immediately feel the pain, but he knew that it would start soon enough once he’d become fully awake. He pushed his head deeper into the pillow, trying to hold on to sweet oblivion, but he knew that it was a futile effort.

It stared with a slow throbbing all over his stomach and the pain quickly spread to his ribs before claiming his body limb by limb. It felt even worse than before he’d fallen asleep * Maybe I was in shock.* he mused.

A dry laugh made its way up his throat, but he suppressed it. There was nothing to laugh about. He was weak, useless. A wimp at the mercy of humans. He had to feed off blood bags or out of a cup, something that he’d never done before. He was pathetic, and on top of that he’d let humans almost beat him to death. He should have committed suicide the second he’d discovered that he couldn’t hurt any living being.

Spike cursed vehemently when he realized that tears were streaming down his face. He was such a wimp. With an angry gesture he wiped a hand over his face, ridding himself of the proof of his weakness. He carefully lifted himself onto his elbows and looked around the dark room, spotting two of the despised blood packages on the nightstand. Disgusted, he grabbed both of them and emptied them quickly before throwing them back onto the wooden surface of the furniture.

That’s when he heard a low moan coming from the lower end of the bed. His gaze shot to the back of the love seat and he saw golden hair spilling over the armrest. A wave of tenderness swept over him when he realized that Buffy had kept watch over him while he’d been sleeping. Now that his mind was clear he remembered that she’d left the Bronze with a guy last night and he wondered why she'd been at the Watcher’s house instead of with him.

Spike got out of the bed and walked over to her. His muscles protested against the movement but he ignored it and crouched down beside the armrest, studying her beautiful face. She looked so peaceful and relaxed, without the ever present tension on her face that radiated from her when she was awake.

Her body was curled up on the short love seat which was too short even for her small body . Her knees were almost drawn up to her chin and her left hand was draped over her waist, while the other was curled underneath her cheek. He couldn’t suppress the sense of protectiveness that swept over him at the sight of her.

He desired her so much. He always had, even before the witch had put them under a spell. But now that he knew what it felt like to kiss her and hold her, she haunted his every dream and waking thought.

She shifted again and he could hear another low moan escape her throat. Suddenly his nostrils flared and he inhaled sharply, forgetting that there was no need for him to do so, when the scent of her arousal hit him. His gaze darted to the hem of her skirt that was riding high on her hips, revealing the black satin panties she wore.

Buffy twisted on the love seat, her right leg falling onto the floor. "Spike." she whispered longingly. The bleached blond vampire stared at her in shock. She was dreaming about him! And from the looks of it it was an erotic dream.

A purely male grin swept over his features as she moaned again. And it seemed to be a pretty intense one, too. Her lips parted ever so slightly and her breathing got heavier, as her hands started to unconsciously wander over her body, brushing along her hips up to her chest and back to her waist.

*Damn it. How is a bloke supposed to watch this and survive?*

Before he even realized what he was doing, his hands had found their way to her warm body and he began to pleasure her the way he'd always dreamed about.

********

Several minutes later he listened to her heavy breathing as she started to calm down and put his lips near her ear again, calling her name softly, a smile in his voice. "Buffy."

"Mmmmmh." Lazily, she turned her head towards him. "Don’t wake me up," she murmured. Her eyes were half- closed and Spike realized that she was about to fall asleep again.

He laughed lightly at the satisfied, feminine smile on her face. "You’re not dreaming, luv," he whispered, leaning into her and brushing his lips over hers. Her response was to wrap her arms around his shoulders and draw him closer to her.

The kiss was tender and almost chaste in its lightness. When Spike pulled away from her, he stared down at her outstretched body. Her legs were draped over the armrest and still slightly parted. He took another unneeded breath as he saw her looking so desirable that it almost hurt his eyes. His gaze came to rest on her face again, and his eyebrows shot up when he perceived the slow long cadence of her breathing, indicating that she was asleep again.

"Bloody Hell!" he mumbled to himself. He look at her face for a long time, contemplating his feelings, before he finally stood up and grabbed the cover from the bed and wrapped it around his waist.

Then he walked downstairs, past Giles, who’d fallen asleep on a chair with a book in his hand, and straight into the bathroom. It was time for a long, cold shower.

*******

He unwrapped the bandages from around his torso and discarded them in the sink. A look down his body told him that most of the smaller cuts had already healed, thanks to the Slayer’s blood. The deep slashes and broken ribs would take more time, but at least he wasn’t bleeding anymore.

Spike stepped into the bathtub and turned on the water as cold as possible. Grabbing the shampoo he found on the rim, he proceeded to wash the blood out of his hair, ignoring his protesting ribs as he stretched his muscles to raise his hands high enough. Gritting his teeth, he ran the soap over his body, cursing quietly when a few cuts started bleeding all over again.

When he was done he leaned back against the wall, a litany of profanities tumbling from his lips. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done with the Slayer. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t woken her up and shagged her. And he definitely couldn’t believe the fact that she’d let him drink her blood!

But she had. And that meant that she cared for him at least a little bit. The vampire frowned at the white wall opposite him when that thought caused a mushy feeling in his stomach. It was bloody annoying! One minute he had been wallowing in self misery and the next he’d felt like the happiest chap in the world, seeing her climax , moaning his name. His name! Not Angel’s or anyone else’s, his name!

He sank to the floor and leaned back into the cool wall behind him. He wouldn’t be able to take this much longer. He wanted that soddin’ chip out of his head, but even more than that he wanted to shag the Slayer. His life couldn’t possibly get any more pathetic.

The bleached blond vampire started to thud the back of his head repeatedly against the white tiles, hoping that he’d split his skull somewhere along the line and end his misery.

Part Four

Semiconscious, Giles raised his hand and slammed it down onto the alarm clock to stop the nerve wracking sound that had woken him up. His hand connected with the a cup of tea, that he’d put on the table earlier that day. The cup tipped over, spilling its cooled content onto the carpet.

With a curse tumbling from his lips, he sat up and opened his eyes. He looked around, noticing that he was sitting in a chair rather than lying in his bed and it hadn't been the alarm clock that had woken him up. It had been the phone.

Grumbling under his breath he picked it up and barked into the receiver. "Hello."

He sobered instantly when he recognized the voice on the other end of the line. The conversation was short and Giles listened intently to the woman on the phone. After he had voiced his agreement, the connection was terminated and he quickly scribbled a date and an address on a piece of paper.

He brushed a hand over his face and through his disarrayed hair before walking into the kitchen. There he glanced at the clock. It was past four which meant he’d slept for about three hours after spending quite a lot of time on the phone and over his books. He didn’t want to wake Buffy just yet, but he nonetheless started to prepare lunch for both of them.

Giles had just thrown a variety of vegetables into a hot pan to let them steam in butter, when a certain bottle blond vampire left the bathroom. He noticed that the man’s hair was still wet from the shower, and he had obviously tried to apply new bandages to his chest afterwards. Not very successfully though. The ends were knotted around his waist and rather crooked looking, too.

He had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and Giles was sure that Buffy would have a heart attack if she saw him like that. Giles silently indicated the red shirt hanging over the couch. There was only a little blood on it and Spike shrugged into it quickly.

"Feeling better?" Giles asked.

"A bit." The vampire replied awkwardly.

Silence fell over the room as they eyed each other. Neither one of them was happy with the present situation. Their body language screamed tension and neither one of them wanted to be the first to avert his eyes.

Thankfully, a loud knock at the door interrupted their staring contest. Both of them jumped, a bit startled, but Giles quickly caught himself and walked to the door. When he opened it he found Willow standing on the other side, smiling at him.

"Hi Giles!" she greeted and stepped past him. "I just wanted to see if everything is all right, since Buffy didn’t return la.... oh boy!" Willow stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes fell onto the vampire standing in the middle of the living room, clad only in a towel and a red shirt. Her eyes traveled over his leanly muscled body and she swallowed heavily. For the first time she could understand why Buffy had the hots for him.

Not that Buffy would have actually admitted to lusting after him, but Willow knew her well enough to see the signs. Spike was the only one who could push Buffy’s buttons and send her into a fury or turn her into a mess of tears in no time. And she constantly talked about him. All right, so she talked about how much she hated him, but Willow was very well aware of the longing looks she cast his way whenever she thought herself unobserved.

Spike winked at her, and she blushed several shades of red, embarrassed that he’d caught her staring at him. She turned around fast, her nose colliding with Giles chest. Jumping backwards she giggled nervously. "UH... right, Buffy. Is everything all right? And why is Spike all wrapped up in gauze?" she questioned.

Giles gave her a bemused look and turned his gaze to the vampire. "I’ve been asking myself the exact same question."

Spike let himself fall onto the couch and gave them an exasperated look before telling them what happened. He left out a few parts, such as the reason for him dancing with the girl had been his frustration over Buffy leaving with another guy and his desire for a shag.

Willow gasped in shock when he explained about the attack in the alley, and even Giles seemed to be genuinely stricken by his account. He didn’t even mention the fact that Spike had killed Jesse during the fight after the vampire was done with his monologue. His expression however had grown darker and more concerned by the second. When Spike leaned his elbows on his knees, finishing his story with himself falling into Buffy’s arms, Giles grabbed a book of the table and started pacing.

"This is most disturbing." he said.

"Well yeah. I almost got myself killed!" The vampire gave him a ‘duh’ look.

"Yes, yes, of course, and we all know how very sad we’d be about that," Giles replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "However, I was talking about the prophecy I discussed with Buffy last night."

"What prophecy?" Willow asked, curious.

"In the-the Chronicles of Betar the Myponien, it says that ‘ On the second day of the second night, the Blithear shall walk the earth. It will feed where the green fire burns the brightest and leave death and despair in it’s wake. For its recreation shall bring chaos to darkness and darkness to flame.’"

"Oh sure. Of course I see your point. What else could it be?" Spike’s sarcasm equaled Giles, but the former librarian didn’t dignify his remark with a comment.

"I have to admit that I wouldn’t have been able to make much sense of this, had it not come with an explanation. The Council has spent centuries trying to decipher Betar’s prophecies, because they are by far the most complicated ones to interpret, " he continued. "The second day of the second night is not an exact date, it is actually a cyclus, a recurring stellar constellation which happened to occur last night and the three night that will follow it."

"And what is this Blithear?" Willow asked.

"The Blithear is a being of pure energy. It is invisible and feeds on the jealousy in our hearts. It also amplifies its victims capability of hatred and aggressiveness for the time that it is feeding. After he leaves the victim, their adrenaline levels will drop back to normal again, but the feeding leaves a mark, an... aura, if you will, so one can determine that the person has been fed on.“

"So what you’re implying is that I was almost killed because this..... Blitherin used those guys as a happy meal?"

"Blithear. And yes, I do believe that this might be a possibility."

Spike was about to fly into a rage, but Willow quickly intervened. "If it really were that way, then how do we find out? And how do we stop it?" The witch kept one eye on the vampire, who shot her an angry look and crossed his arms above his chest, leaning back into the couch.

"It is quite easy to trace actually. We just need one of his victims, and then we sprinkle some of this..." he held a small leather bag into the air. "... powder on his skin. If it starts to burn, the Blithear got him. Killing it, however, is as good as impossible, seeing as it doesn’t have a body and is immune to magic. It was banished numerous times throughout history, quite often in the nick of time before it could carry out the rest of the prophecy."

"What does the rest of the prophecy mean?"

"I’m afraid I don’t know, and I don’t really have any desire to find out either," the man answered.

Willow couldn’t help but get excited about the whole situation. She was always glad when she could help and this situation might definitely give her something to do. "So you said you killed the guy...Jesse?" she asked Spike, who merely raised his eyebrow at her, which she took as affirmation. "In that case I can check the coroner and police reports, to find out if they brought his body to the hospital or to the morgue at the cemetery."

Giles nodded in agreement. “Very well. The sooner we move, the better."

Willow and Giles continued to discuss the matter, ignoring the vampire who was less than interested anyway. After several minutes Willow left, promising to call him as soon as she found out anything so they could pay Jesse a little visit after sundown.

As soon as Willow was out the door, Spike addressed the former Watcher. “This just works out really nice for you, doesn’t it?" he asked in a challenging tone.

Giles gave him an irritated look. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The demon...or whatever this Blitharen is. Wraps it up real convenient. The poor little humans are influenced by the big bad evil and go around beating and killing people."

"Well, it-it does appears that way."

"Oh please. Are you really that naive? You know what? I think you don’t want to see it." Spike got up from the couch and stared the man right in the eyes.

"Understand what?" the former librarian replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"I am a demon, but it’s humans who are the monsters. Just because you’re living on the Hellmouth doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens has to be another demonic fluke. You think this... this thing, caused them to act like me in my best of days? All savage and bloodthirsty? Well, take a seat because I got news for you. Humans kill. They torture, both mentally and physically. And most of them don’t do it out of necessity. They enjoy it. They enjoy the power, the thrill; and even with a soul, they have no sense of morality or respect for life. Some of them are even worse that we are. Open your eyes, Watcher! What do you see?"

During his monologue, Spike had walked over to the human and was now only inches away from him. He was sucking on the insides of his cheeks and pursed his lips expecting an answer.

Giles swallowed nervously. Blinking several times in rapid succession he refused to back down. "I-I am very well aware of the fa...."

"_What_ do you see?" Spike demanded.

"I see you!" Giles shouted in exasperation.

The vampire rewarded his answer with a cynical smile. "Right! You see me. A demon inhabiting a human’s body. Well let me tell you something about the former owner of this body."

Spike stepped away from Giles and walked slowly back to the couch, where he started pacing.

"He was called William. Born to a whore, for all I know, and left at the docks of London to die. It was quite common back then to rid oneself of unwanted children this way. However, lucky chap that he was, a peasant woman found him there and actually took him into her home. He would never know why she did it because she was dead by the time he was old enough to ask her.

"He grew up being physically, mentally and sexually abused by her husband, who kept him out of the little piece of sentimentality that was still in his heart, because his wife asked him to. He was forced to do hard labor at the age of seven, working eighteen hours a day on the neighbor’s farm, where he didn’t even earn enough money to buy more than a loaf of bread. Not that he would have gotten to spend the money anyway, because his ‘father’ took it away from him, spending it on liquor so he could drown out the misery that was his life.

"At the age of twelve he grew tired of me and threw me out of the house. Some aristocrat had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, and William spend the next year and a half posing as whipping boy for the aristocrat’s son. Do you know what a whipping boy is, Watcher?" Spike asked theoretically.

"Of course I know," the Watcher muttered.

Spike didn’t seem to be overly surprised and pressed his lips together into a tight line, nodding his head jerkily.

"The whipping boy William got punished for everything that the aristocrat’s son did wrong. Every time he would speak up without being addressed, William got his arse beaten numb. Every time he’d fall off a horse because he was too bloody daft to listen to what his teacher told him, William would get up close and personal with a whip. As I said, he took about eighteen months of the crap, until he finally decided to grow a spine and ran away. Back to London.

"Living the life of a street urchin, he whored himself to the sailors for a meal and a place to stay the night. But one day, he went home with a drunkard, not that this would be unusual; almost all men knew how to drink themselves into oblivion day after day. But this one was special, because once he was done with fifteen year old William, he didn’t want to give him anything. No money, no food, nothing. So William grabbed his trousers with the money in them and ran. He didn’t get very far, let me tell you. The scumbag was upon him within a few seconds and almost beat him to death.

"So while little William was curled into a ball, making his peace with the lousy fate that he had, he felt the hilt of a knife digging into the palm of his hand. The knife had been hidden in a side-pocket of the man’s trousers, and before he even knew what he was doing, William stabbed the knife deep into the sailor’s stomach.

"And then he watched him die. He cried, you know that? Like the wuss that he was, he cried like a baby. But then he took the knife and made a promise. He promised never to be a victim again. Before long William had earned himself quiet a reputation. He stole money, and if his victims wouldn’t give it to him right away, he’d ‘persuade’ them a bit and if that still didn’t work, ‘cause you see our William never had much patience, he’d kill them. Unfortunately one of his intended victims turned out to be Angelus and I’m pretty sure you know the rest of the story.“

His voice was bitter, and the pace at which he was moving through the apartment spoke of agitation and emotional stress. "So don’t tell me humans are not capable of something like this, because I know they are. Their methods have become more sterile, more technological, but the mentality behind it is still the same." he concluded.

**********

Giles was deeply affected by the story he’d just heard and it took him several minutes of silence to find his voice again. "This bothers you! Why?"

"Why the fucking HELL DO YOU THINK IT DOES?" Spike shouted at him. “William was weak for most of his life. He swore never to be that way again. Never. And now I’m in the same fucking position again. I’m weak. These humans wanted to kill me and there was nothing I could have done about it. NOTHING! When I should have torn their throats out and drank their blood, I was once again curled up on the pavement, thinking I would die!"

Giles flinched at that. "But it wasn’t you. It was William who went through this. Not you. You have his memories but his past shouldn’t affect you. You’re not him!"

Spike came within two inches of Giles, but didn’t dare to touch him, because despite the rage inside of him, he knew that the chip would hurt him worse than he was capable of hurting the human in front of him. "Do you really believe that?"

"Of-of course. The-the Council has..."

"The bloody Council doesn’t know a thing about us. They made up their own little theories and tests to prove that there is nothing of the person left once he's turned, but let me tell you something. There is still a lot left and it got stronger over the last two centuries."

"I’m afraid I don’t understand. Are you saying that you have a soul?"

"NO! Aren’t you listening? I said that the personality and the memories of the person remain, but with that also his emotions, his fears and desires. William isn’t gone, he’s part of me! And I bloody well hate it."

Giles honestly didn’t know what to say. He had of course known that some part of the human remained, but he was shocked to realize how much of William still existed inside of Spike. He didn’t question the vampire’s story. His gut feeling told him that Spike had spoken the truth and that fact disturbed him greatly.

"I-I think I need a cup of tea." he stammered and walked into the kitchen trying to process what he’d just heard.

"Please, by all means, go ahead. Why would you care about a single word coming out of my mouth!" Spike hissed at him.

"I do care about what you said. As a matter of fact, I believe you, but I will need some time to come to terms with that. It proves Buffy’s opinion of you right and although I still believe that we’d be better off killing you, I feel more inclined to her solution now." the man said and filled a kettle with water to heat it. He noted that the vegetables in the pan had turned black and pulled them into the sink, turning the stove off.

"What are you bloody talking about?" Spike grumbled, calming down slightly. He was surprised that the Watcher seemed to take his word for the truth. For some reason it caused a feeling of relief to smooth over the tension in his body, and he relaxed slightly. He followed Giles into the kitchen and leaned against the wall.

"Uh, well, Buffy thinks that we should get the chip out of your head," Giles stated as calmly as possible, watching the vampire’s reaction closely.

Spike’s body grew absolutely rigid. "She said that?" he whispered in shock. He couldn’t believe his own ears. "Why would she do that?"

"You told me that you felt weak, Buffy seems to be aware of that and..."

"She thinks I’m weak?" Spike interrupted in a disgusted tone of voice.

"No, she doesn’t think that. Not at all. Quite the contrary actually . She thinks of you as a strong willed fighter. That’s also the reason she suggested we get the chip out of your head. She believes that if you have to endure this for much longer you’ll go berserk as soon as you can get rid of the implant yourself. Which would make you even more dangerous than you already are." he explained.

A smile was tugging at Spike’s lips. "That’s how she thinks of me? A strong-willed fighter?" The smile turned into a smirk. "She knows me pretty well, doesn’t she!"

Giles just gave him a look. A look that spoke volumes, causing the vampire's smirk to turn into a scowl. "And you said you agree with her?" Spike explored the hope he’d been offered carefully, not wanting to get all excited just to be crushed to the ground again.

"What I said was, that after what you told me, I’m willing to... all right, I agree with her."

"Where’s the hook? You’re not letting me be my evil self again for nothing. Is she going to stake me the minute I’m all right again? That your plan?"

"No. Unfortunately not," Giles stated. “You get rid of the chip, you leave Sunnydale for good. You come back, you’re dead. That’s the deal." The former Watcher’s eyes studied Spike’s face closely, trying to anticipate his reaction.

After a while, the vampire nodded. "Sounds fair enough," he said quietly.

Giles’ eyes widened in surprise, He was sure that he’d heard something akin to regret in the other man’s voice. He walked out of the kitchen and picked up the piece of paper he had scribbled on earlier. "Be there and then get gone, as Buffy would say!"

Spike took it and read today’s date, a time, and address on it, along with the name of a Dr. Tanner.

"It’s already dark outside, You should go!"

Spike took a look at the curtain covered windows and noticed that the Watcher was right. He nodded, grabbed his blood smeared jeans and slipped into them. Grabbing his duster, he fished for his car keys in the deep pockets.

"I just wanna say goodbye to the Slay..."

"You shouldn’t." Giles said firmly, regarding him squarely.

Spike’s shoulders sagged and for a second, just for a second, Giles wondered if he was doing the right thing. It was obvious that Spike had feelings for his Slayer, which surprised him. And he knew that Buffy would throw a tantrum when she discovered that he’d sent Spike away without telling her.

Buffy was the daughter he’d never had. He wanted to protect her and he knew that if she let herself get drawn into another relationship with a vampire, she’d be hurting even worse once Spike left her. Because there was no way the vampire would be staying with her once he was free to maim and kill again.

He watched as Spike opened the front door and stopped, hesitating to go through it. He turned back to him, but didn’t meet his eyes. "Thank you," he finally said and disappeared into the night.

Giles practically collapsed onto the couch the minute the door fell back into its lock. "Oh dear," he whispered. He didn’t know if he should be relieved that Spike was gone, and would hopefully stay gone, or be worried about Buffy’s reaction to all this.

A loud whistling sound made him jump in fright and his gaze shot towards the kitchen. His water was ready.

Part Five

Buffy stretched her muscles lazily. She’d just drifted back from sleep, feeling better than she had in a long time. She was relaxed and utterly... calm. Despite laying on the short love seat for hours, there was no tension in her muscles, no ache that bothered her. She felt wonderful.

Until she remembered the dream she’d had. Groaning, she recalled the vivid images in her mind. She’d had many erotic dreams about the blond vampire lately, and she always woke up with sweat covering her skin, panting heavily and aroused beyond words. Only this time she hadn’t woken up. And from the looks of it she'd orgasm in her sleep. With Spike laying only a few feet away from her!

*Oh my god!*

Panic gripped her and she jumped to her feet. She turned so fast towards the bed that she lost her balance and stumbled over her own feet. Landing on her butt, she cursed loudly and peeked around the edge of the love seat up at the bed.

It was empty.

*Shit, shit, shit*

Buffy adjusted her clothes and scrambled down the stairs. Her face had turned every shade of red when the thought occurred to her that Spike might have witnessed her reaction to her dream. Even worse, what if she’d unconsciously called out his name?

She stopped abruptly half way between the two stories. How could she possibly face him ever again? Would he be disgusted or would he laugh at her? She didn’t prefer either possibility, since both of them would lead to complete humiliation.

Buffy carefully sneaked a glance around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw only Giles sitting on the couch, talking to someone on the phone. She entered the living room and waited patiently for him to finish the call, while giving him a forced smile.

"Hi Giles." She greeted him then, noticing that her voice sounded unusually high and squeaky. She coughed once and continued in her normal voice. "Anything interesting?"

"Buffy, you’re up." The Watcher fiddled with his glasses. Even in her slightly hysterical state of mind she noted that he was obviously feeling uncomfortable. "That was Willow, she...uh... Spike told us what happened to him, and I think that it might be related to the prophecy we talked about earlier. One human was killed and Willow wanted to find out where they put his body. It’s in the morgue at the cemetery."

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up. "Someone was killed. I thought Spike couldn’t harm anyone with the chip."

"Well if you were beaten to death, wouldn’t you at least try?" the man snapped at her. At Buffy’s shocked look, he apologized immediately. "I’m...I’m sorry. It has been a rather long night... or day for that matter."

"Where is Spike?" the Slayer asked in a casual tone. Her eyes were darting around the room and she listened carefully, but couldn’t hear anyone else in the condo.

Giles took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction. "He left."

"_What_?" Buffy’s gaze shot toward him, eyes wide. Her hands clutched the fabric of her dress.

"I found out that an old friend of mine, a physician who was working with the Council some time ago, has moved to L.A.. His work with the Council was terminated because he perceived their actions to be unethical. He is a very strong believer in the hypocratic oath. And for him even vampires fall under it. He agreed to extract the chip from Spike’s brain."

"And he just left. Without a word?" she asked quietly.

"We didn’t want to wake you up." the Watcher lied.

"He didn’t say _anything_?" Her question came more carefully this time, causing Giles to wonder if there was already something between them that hadn’t been there last night.

"He agreed to leave Sunnydale and never to come back."

Shell-shocked, Buffy nodded. There were so many thoughts tumbling through her mind..... so many emotions... that she couldn’t speak. Her throat constricted as she fully realized that he was gone. Spike had left and if he kept his promise, he would never come back again.

"I...I need to get to the dorm and take a shower, Giles." She said. Her voice was shaky and Giles cringed in sympathy. He felt bad about the lie, but he felt that it was better that way.

"Of course. Willow has also been reading up on Blithear and maybe we could meet at the morgue in about an hour and take care of this." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Her smile was fake and her eyes were brimming with tears. Giles had to forcefully keep himself from telling her that Spike had wanted to talk to her before he left, as well as the rest of his life’s story.

Buffy gathered her belongings and left quietly, not ever looking back at the condo as she made her way down the street.

*******

There were light on behind the windows. A big ballot was right in front of the skyscraper, holding plates with the logos of firms, organizations and practices that could be found here. Spike was surprised. He’d expected something along the lines of a small back room of an abandoned warehouse where he’d get the damn chip cut out of his head without any anesthesia or sterile utensils, but this...this was...

This was a thirty story sky scraper with glass covered walls, supported by stunning architecture and steel poles that ran deep into the ground. It was modern and spoke of money and business.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed.

After he’d gotten his car out of the factory where he’d hid it, he’d spent the whole drive arguing with himself about the pros and cons of all this. In his rage, he’d told the Watcher more about himself than he wanted any living or unliving being to know. Maybe he was growing soft, just like Dru had said, but somehow he doubted that it had anything to do with the soddin’ chip in his head.

No, he knew exactly why he was on his way to poof-dom. Buffy. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. She haunted him. Her sweet scent. Her enticing body. Her witty mind. She was so bloody perfect that it hurt to be near her. He’d known even before he’d made his promise that he would brake it. He would go back to Sunnydale. If to kill her or plead his undying love to her, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t stay away from her for long..

He knew that she would probably kill him if he fed on humans. That would be a problem, but if she didn’t know that he was in town, she couldn’t do anything to him aside from the things she always did to him. Haunting him. At least, that was his reasoning and although he was very well aware of the illogic of it, he fooled himself into believing it.

With a chuckle he pushed himself off the car frame and entered the building. A security guard sat behind the desk at the entrance and Spike approached him without hesitation. "I’m here to see Dr. Tanner." he stated.

The guard looked up at him and picked up a phone. While he was dialing the number, he addressed the vampire. "Is he expecting you, Mr...."

"Spike, and yes he is expecting me."

The call connected and the guard held a short conversation with the person on the other end of the line before nodding in agreement. He stood up and indicated for Spike to follow him towards the elevators. With a key, dangling from his belt, the man override the security lock-down of the elevators at this time off the night and the double door slid open.

“Fifteenth floor, sir. Dr. Tanner will be waiting for you there. Have a good night." With those words he left Spike to enter the elevator and ride upwards.

When Spike walked out onto the 15th floor, he was greeted by a man in his late fifties, with a short white beard and sparkling green eyes. He was dressed in denim blues and a simple shirt under a white lab coat. The man extended a hand in greeting and Spike took it reluctantly.

"So you’re Spike!" the man said.

Spike nodded, deciding to test his ground carefully.

"I’m Dr. Tanner. It’s nice to meet you. Mr. Giles told me you’re a special case among vampires. More human than most of them. This way, please."

The two men started down the hall way, as Spike contemplated the physician’s words. Giles had spoken to Dr. Tanner before he felt the need for a soul-striptease. It surprised him that the Watcher had described him like this.

"Yes, well. I never follow the rules. Don't mind the way I am though." he replied.

They reached the end of the hall and Dr. Tanner opened a door that led to a spacious examination room. Behind the huge plastic glass on the opposite side of the wall, Spike could see equipment for computer tomography.

"Would you please take off your clothes. We’ll have to run a few test to determine the location of the implant and figure out a way how to extract it. After that we’ll perform the surgery immediately," Dr. Tanner explained.

Two nurses, one male, one female, entered the room and Dr. Tanner introduced them to Spike, promising that they’d answer any further questions he had.

Spike was skeptical but complied. After all there wasn’t much he could do anyway. If he left he’d be stuck with that chip in his head for eternity and if they planned to kill him... oh well. He like to live dangerously. If Giles trusted them, than he would have to do so as well. He divested himself of his clothes and the two nurses proceeded to put all sorts of small patches onto his skin, while Dr. Tanner took a blood sample.

Spike sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long night.

*******

Buffy sat on her bed, a towel wrapped around her body. Her skin was still wet, and tiny droplets of water fell onto the linen sheets, slowly soaking the material. Buffy didn’t care. She was staring straight ahead, trying to sort through her emotions.

Willow had left shortly after Buffy had arrived. The witch had wanted to stop by at the magic shop to get some supplies. She thought that she had found a way to make the Blithear visible, at least she had hopes that it would, but in the end only practice would be the judge of that.

Buffy had been taking her shower when the tears had started. She hadn’t even been sure why she was crying, but it felt good and she had let the tears fall down her cheek.

After the shower she slouched back into her room and sat down. She felt hurt that Spike had left without a word. Hurt that he hated them...hated her... so much that he would simply walk out the door and vanish from her life.

And she felt also anger; anger at herself for having all those feeling for him which she knew were wrong and would only lead to heartache.... and humiliation if she’d ever act on them. With that realization came relief. Relief that he’d left before she could lose her head and fall any deeper for him than she already had. Relief that his departure gave her the chance to get a grip on herself and get a clue. He was a vampire! He would never want to be with her. If she would keep clinging to that hope, it would hurt her, maybe even worse than her relationship with Angel.

So she just had to get up, get dressed, kill this Bliter-something thingy and apologize to Riley for standing him up and everything would be fine, right? RIGHT? Then why was there this aching hole in her heart, threatening to bring another river of tears to her eyes?

Buffy remained on the bed until it was almost time to go. Than she dressed slowly in a pair of black denim jeans and a black and red tank top that she’d bought months ago. Pulling her bag of slaying utensils out of the closet, she spotted the leather jacket Angel had given her so long ago. After a moments hesitation, she pulled it out and slipped into it, enjoying the feel of the worn leather against her skin.

Then she left, closing the door firmly behind her. However, the lock seemed to be dysfunctional because once she’d rounded the corner it cracked open again.

*******

When Buffy entered the morgue, she found her friends already waiting for her. Willow recognized the redness around the Slayer’s eyes right away and gave her a comforting smile along with a squeeze of her hand.

They walked to the room where they knew the bodies would be, Xander taking the lead with the flashlight. The brunette had been informed by Willow of what was going on and having nothing to do anyway, he’d been more than happy to help.

"In the police record, it says that Jesse was attacked by a mugger. His friends supposedly found him when they left the Bronze." Willow explained, when they entered the large room in the back of the morgue.

Metal tables lined the walls by the windows, each holding a linen covered body. The temperature was low and Willow shivered slightly. A large metal door leading to a walk in freezer was opposite the windows, and against the wall at the back of the room stood several shelves and glass cabinets as well as a few tables and a sink

The building lay in silence, no sound disturbing the eerie atmosphere as they lifted the sheet, covering Jesse’s body. They had to uncover several bodies before they found him, matching the boy to a photograph Willow had found on the college records.

Without preamble Giles opened the pouch with the magic powder and sprinkled a small amount on the dead boy’s arm. He then put the open pouch on the metal table beside the boy's head and waited. At first nothing happened. Giles was about to doubt his theory when suddenly a light sizzling could be heard. The powder covered flesh of the boy started to turn first red and black, as the powder burned itself into his skin. Willow gasped and Xander winced as the horrible smell of burning flesh hit his nose. Giles quickly put a handkerchief over his nose, mirroring Buffy’s action with her leather jacket.

********

It drifted back into consciousness, instinctively knowing that it was late. It had fed on so much power last night that its sleep had been long and deep. It had also grown during the day. Soon this place would be too small to provide shelter for it. And then it would be time.

But now it was hungry again. It left its resting place and tested the air around it, beginning its never ending search for the essence that would sustain him for another night. It felt something; it was close. Very close. Drifting through a wall it found itself in another dark room. It floated over to the small assembly of people, seeking the one that was calling to him. He recognized one of the bodies lying at display throughout the room. It had fed on that one the night before.

But now the boy’s body held no life, no energy that would be of interest to it. Its mind briefly wondered how the human had met his death, but the thought vanished as fast as it had surfaced. It was inconsequential. Not important. The only thing that mattered was the faint glow of jealousy that radiated from the other boy in the group. A brunette.

It was not much that he had to offer, but it would do. He would give it enough strength to continue its search for someone more... suitable. Maybe it could find the creature again that had given it almost more energy than it could handle.

It slipped into the boy’s mind without much effort and began to feed on the light shimmering that was his dark essence.

******

Willow started to gag. The smell was just too much for her.

“We had better get out of here.“ Giles gripped the red-head by her shoulder and started to turn her towards the exit. His elbow brushed against the leather pouch, knocking it over. As the pouch fell to the floor it spread its contents through the air, causing a minimal amount to grace Xander’s skin.

The brunette started screaming in pain almost immediately. He batted at his arm, trying to brush the powder off his kin, only managing to spread it further onto his hands, which started to burn as well.

Buffy reacted instantly and grabbed him, hurling him towards the sink at the wall opposite the entrance. She turned the water on full blast and forced Xander’s hands and arms under it, washing the powder off. Xander was whimpering, his skin glowing bright red and on a few spots even black.

Giles had let go of Willow and opened the freezer on the other end of the room. He broke off some ice, that had formed on the shelves inside and hurried over to the boy, placing it onto the burn marks.

"What the hell happened?" Buffy snapped at him.

"The Blithear. It fed on him." Giles explained, wrapping a towel that lay on a nearby table around Xander’s arms.

"But that’s not possible. You said it fed on jealousy. Xander doesn’t have reason to be jealous." Buffy hesitated and turned towards the brunette. "Do you have a reason?"

Xander had calmed down somewhat and gritted his teeth in pain. "Anya and I had a fight earlier. She said that she might as well get herself a real boyfriend, since all I do is go from job to job without ever doing anything useful. She said that shagging was nice, but she wants a guy with a car," he choked out.

"All right then, I guess you had a reason." Buffy shrugged.

"When did you have this fight with Anya? This way we can narrow the creature’s modus operandi down." Giles was immediately all business.

"Just before I left." Xander said.

"So it must have gotten to you either on your way here, or..." the Slayer turned around watching the room suspiciously. "...right here!" she finished.

"It took a while for the powder to take effect on Jesse, of course that could have something to do with him being dead, but considering that it worked on Xander immediately and a lot more violently..." Willow trailed off, gesturing to her friend’s towel-wrapped arms.

"The fact that Jesse is dead should not influence the reaction time of the powder. The only thing that _could_ influence it would be the immediate presents of the Blithear." Giles faced Xander with a concerned look. "That means it’s feeding off you right now. Or at least was at the time you came in contact with the powder."

Xander gave the small group a panicked look. "Feeding off me. Now.... Well make it stop!" He gave a short laugh, that verged on hysteria and walked into the middle of the room. "Can you be sure that it’s feeding on me? Maybe it was just an allergic reaction?"

Willow gave him a pained look, understanding his fear. She shrugged her backpack off her shoulders and pulled several herbs and her spell book out of it. She positioned a small iron bowl on the table and put the herbs into it.

"What are you doing?" Giles asked.

"I think I found a spell to make it visible!" Willow explained in a rush. She poured some a blue liquid over the herbs and lit them with a match. Then she picked up her spell book and read the magic inducing words three times in quick succession. The smoke from the burning herbs floated into the air, the magic causing it to spread faster than any normal smoke would. In less than a minute the room was filled with a faint white web of smoky tendrils. Around Xander’s head the smoke started to glow in an eerie blue color, causing Willow to gasp.

Xander couldn’t see the blue glow and started to panic when he felt himself under close observation from the others in the room. Their reaction told him that whatever this thing was, it was indeed feeding off him. He started to bat at his hair and head, hoping to scare it away.

Buffy was beside him in an instant and restrained his hands. "Giles what do we do now?"

*******

It was in pain. The power it craved was drowned out by the boy’s fear, poisoning it. Howling in pain it detached itself from the human’s mind and drifted away. It was hurt, severely injured. It needed food, power, energy. And it needed it now.

But first... first the pain had to stop so it could concentrate. It knew that its resting place would allow it to calm itself, to gather whatever amount of strength he had left and recuperate, before he went on his quest again.

It was too weak to escape with its natural grace and speed, instead it tumbled slowly towards the wall, behind which its only sanctuary lay.

*******

"It’s moving towards the freezer. Xander, calm down, it’s gone. It’s gone!" Buffy tried to calm her friend, desperately trying to keep the blue shadow in her field of vision.

Xander stopped struggling against the hold she had on him and Buffy released him. The brunettes eyes darted towards the wall and caught the faint glow that slipped through it. Taking deep and even breaths he steadied himself with one hand on the metal table, while Buffy, Giles and Willow dashed towards the freezer.

Giles jerked the door opened and stumbled inside, coming to a dead stop when he realized that there was no smoke in the room and he couldn’t see the creature.

"We have to wait until the smoke spreads through the room." Willow explained hiding behind the former librarian.

The smoke filled the room soon enough to show them how the shadow disappeared inside a glass container that stood on one of the shelves. The group approached curiously and Buffy frowned in disgust.

"Eeewww! It’s.. uh, it’s a brain!" The Slayer exclaimed.

"That would make sense." Giles stated thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, it does? How so?"

Willow chirped in, glad that she had taken the time to read up on the creature. "That’s the only way it can be captured. Inside the brain of one of it’s victims, while it’s feeding on him. It then uses the brain as shelter until it is set free again."

"And how was it set free?" Buffy asked. "And how did this brain get here."

"I assume it was one of the exhibits from the medical facility in town. They closed it down last week, bringing most of their study objects here, where they can be taken care of." Giles explained. "As to how it was set free...something must have breached the ward."

"You said something about a stellar constellation." Willow said. "I tried to find information on it over the net, but came up empty." she admitted.

"I don’t care about stellar constellations or whatever. How do we kill this thing?" Xander exclaimed, joining the group.

"Well, I would suggest that we take it with us and discuss this at my place, where I have my books."

"_Take_ it with us? I don’t think so Giles. There is no way that I’m gonna touch that thing and I won’t let anyone of you touch it either." Buffy said.

"All right, let’s try to think about this logically. It fed on Xander, because he was jealous. But then it left him. Why?" Willow asked.

"Because he panicked. So there wasn’t any jealousy it could feed off anymore." Buffy reasoned.

"Yes, and it appears that it went back to this... place, because the change in emotion must have influenced it in some way. Otherwise it would have simple moved away and found another victim." Giles was practically tearing his glasses of his face in excitement. "That would mean that it can be injured. And what can be injured..."

"... can be killed!" Buffy finished in grim determination.

"But...how?" Willow chimed in.

"I...uh...I don’t know" Giles admitted.

Buffy knitted her brow in concentration. After a minute a small smile appeared on her face. "Let me try something."

Giles and Willow exchanged concerned glances.

"Buffy, I don’t think that this is a very good idea. Whatever you want to try, we can’t help you!"

"You won’t have to. Wait here." With those words she dashed out of the room. leaving the rest of the gang looking after her in irritation and worry.

Buffy sprinted down the hall, searching the walls with her eyes. When she had found what she’d been looking for, she smiled pleased with herself. Calculating the distance between here and the freezer, she walked back to her friends.

The gang had gathered outside the freezer, since it was simply too cold to spend more than a few minutes in their.

"Jealousy, right?" Buffy asked upon entering. "Willow can you make the smoke cover the hallway?"

She didn’t wait for an answer though. Instead she walked right back into the freezer and positioned herself in front of the glass container. She heard Willow shout an agreement after her, but didn’t answer. She had to concentrate.

*Jealousy! All right Summers, this shouldn’t be all that hard. Just concentrate. Think Angel, think Faith. And then remember, how you felt. I was jealous. I was so damn jealous that I pushed him away.*

It was not hard for her to recall that fated day on which Angel had pretended to lose his soul again, so they’d get information out of Faith. She’d seen them kiss and touch during that time and even though she’d known that it was only pretend on his part, her insecurities had gotten the better of her.

Instead of addressing the subject afterwards, she had curled into a little ball and evaded it, getting out of his way. Jealousy and doubt had nagged at her mind, leaving her restless and mopey for days.

******

Energy was calling to it. It was so near that it didn’t even need to search for it. It was just there. It moved slowly, not sure if it should leave its sanctuary. It could feel that person's potential, but there was little power behind her jealousy. So it decided to wait. Restless, it moved inside its resting place, trying to gather its strength, ready to strike at any moment.

******

Nothing happened. Buffy was growing frustrated. Couldn’t anything go right today? She loved Angel damn it! And she’d never been so jealous in her life as when she’d seen him with Harmony! Wait, Harmony? Angel had never been with Harmony. That had been Spike!

Confusion replaced her anger. Had she been jealous about Spike being with a low-life like Harmony? She’d been annoyed, yes. Amused, definitely. But jealous? Had she really been jealous? Buffy contemplated the thought for several minutes. She pictured Spike kissing that airhead, touching his fingertips to her skin, caressing her... no wait. Spike didn’t really care about her. He wouldn’t be gentle. He’d be rough, violent and aggressive.

She pictured them together, him screwing whatever was left of her brains out, as she called his name. Buffy felt positively sick at the though. She wanted to heave... or trash something. Preferably the blond girl’s head.

*That would be nice. Bash her head against the wall until her eyeballs pop out*

*******

Power. So much power. So much rage. Pure joy cursed through its structureless body as it reached out to the bright burning light that called to him. It would satisfy him, just like the creature had done the other night. With so much power it would be strong enough to end it once and for all. It would transform.

It would become.

******

Buffy almost missed it. She was so absorbed in her feelings that she forgot to keep her eyes on the glass container. Her gaze wavered for a second and as she brought it back to the brain beyond the glass, the shadow was there. It glowed faintly against the smoke and drifted towards her.

Buffy jumped back in surprise, bringing herself out of reach. The shadow advanced, slow and somewhat disoriented, so it seemed. It tipped from side to side, expanding and drawing back into itself at irregular intervals.

The Slayer backed up carefully, keeping her eyes fixed on the blue glow. She moved out of the freezer, keeping her thoughts occupied with Harmony and her urge to let the girl die a slow and painful death. Willow, Xander and Giles moved out of her way, giving her room to walk towards the hallway.

"Are you sure about what your doing, Buff?" Xander asked.

Buffy shot him a look and nodded.

"Watch out!" Giles yelled at her.

Instinctively Buffy dodged. She didn’t feel anything but she could see from the corners of her eyes as she rolled on the floor that the shadow had taken a dive towards her. She jumped back to her feet and walked around it in a wide arc so she was between the creature and the open door again.

She backed away once more, noting that the shadow didn’t follow her immediately. When it finally spread in her direction, its movements were even slower and less coordinated than before. Gradually Buffy advanced into the hallway.

Willow had made good on her promise, for the hallway was filled with the eerie white web of smoke, enabling her to keep the being in her sight. She dodged two more attacks before she finally reached her destination. By that time, the shadow was only drifting toward her, barely moving at all, and Buffy was worried that her plan wouldn’t work out after all. She stopped, standing close to the wall, and waited.

The shadow approached ever so slowly and hovered just in front of her. But then it lunged and Buffy crouched low. It shot over her head and disappeared in the morgue’s main power supply. Buffy rolled to her feet and watched as the glow disappeared behind the metal shielding of the circuit breakers. For a minute nothing happened; then the metal bent outwards and exploded. Buffy tried to duck the shards that flew her way, but she didn’t move fast enough. Her abdomen was ripped open and several smaller pieces slashed into her arms and face, cutting her deeply. The blast threw her backwards. She was sliding down the hallway, past the open doors of the room where her friends were.

"Buffy!"

"Oh my God, Buffy!"

They dashed into the hall once the worst of the explosion passed and ran towards her. Buffy was barely conscious. She lay on her back, bleeding from various cuts, and judging from the angle in which her body lay to her arm, Giles was certain that she’d dislocated her right shoulder.

Giles picked her up, moving as careful as possible, so he wouldn’t cause her any more pain. She groaned nonetheless, barely able to keep herself from blacking out.

"Get the car!" the former Watcher demanded.

As Giles hurried after Xander and Willow down the corridor, his thoughts tumbled over each other. Seeing Buffy like this, so badly injured, ripped his heart out. He would never forgive himself if she died. She was everything to him. He loved her with all his being. She was his little girl and he honestly doubted that he’d ever recover from the pain, should she not survive. He was already damning himself for lying to her, for getting her injured, for not taking enough care of her, for letting her down, when she’d needed his protection.

He knew that he’d disappointed her more than once. When Angel lost his soul, when he’d returned from Hell, when the Council had put her through their stupid and archaic test and now, he’d lied to her again, about Spike... or at least not told her everything, and he’d let her follow through with her plan, without intervening. Now she was injured and cradled in his arms. He desperately tried to determine if she was still breathing, but it was impossible during his dash from the morgue to Xander’s borrowed car. He fell onto the back seat, hugging Buffy close to him as Xander floored the accelerator.

They broke every speed limit and drove through more than one red light getting to the hospital. There, Giles didn’t even wait for the car to come to a complete halt. His door was open as soon as they came near the entrance and he hurried inside.

"Please, she needs help. Somebody help her," he pleaded.

A nurse approached swiftly. She took one look at Buffy and turned back around, calling for a doctor. The little blond girl was laid onto a stretcher and moved to the emergency room after only a few seconds that seemed like an eternity to Giles and the two young people with him. In the next two hours all of them would sit quietly against the wall, living their own version of hell as the doctors tried to save Buffy’s life.

Part Six

When Spike regained consciousness, it was not slowly and with a sense of disorientation. One second he didn’t know, see, or feel anything; the next he was fully awake and he felt great.

Sitting up a abruptly, he looked around the room and noted that Dr. Tanner was reading a book, lounging in a chair, his feet propped up on the small table beside the bed. At his movement the man look over at him and smiled.

"Ahh, I was wondering when you’d wake up. Perfect timing. It’s almost dawn outside. How are you feeling?"

"Bloody good. Is the chip out?" Spike asked, barely able to contain his eagerness.

"If I tell you are you going to try to kill me?" the doctor shot back.

"I will if you don’t," Spike retaliated, his smirk mirroring the doctor’s.

"It’s out. Congrats. Astonishing piece of work though. I’ll give it to a close friend of mine, who will, without doubt, take it apart and find out everything there is to find out."

"Great. Thanks!" In the space of a heartbeat, Spike was out of the bed and grabbed the man by the lapels of his coat, shoving him forcefully into the wall. Nothing happened. No pain, not even a flicker of discomfort. Then Spike flinched when the physician pulled a cross from the pockets of his duster and shoved it into his face.

The blond vampire let go and retreated to the bed, where he sat down. "Hey, I wanted to try! You know, figure out if it’s true."

Dr. Tanner raised an eyebrow in skepticism, but he saw nothing but honesty in the vampire’s eyes and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Spike hadn’t gotten into game face, when he’d grabbed him, so he didn’t pursue the matter any further.

"If your feeling all right then. I suggest that you get dressed. As I said the sun will be up shortly. I don’t think you still want to be here by then."

The vampire nodded and grabbed his clothes which were draped over another chair. He noted that someone must have put them into a washer, while he was under anesthesia because there wasn’t a single drop of blood on them. After he’d dressed, he followed the doctor back to the elevator and stepped inside.

"Hey, doc." He called out as the doors began to slide closed. "Thanks, mate."

Dr. Tanner gave him a nod and a smile, before he turned around and walked back to his office. It was time to get some sleep.

******

Spike felt elated. He was in an exceptionally good mood when he left the building and scooted behind the wheel of his car. Turning the ignition, he started to whistle a joyous tune, not even realizing that it was that ‘I Can’t Wait to be King’ song from the Disney movie ‘The Lion King’. Also, he’d never admit that he’d watched that bloody movie about twenty times and still started crying when Simba’s father died.

He drove past several blocks, before pulling over to the curb and exiting the car again. He determined that he still had a few minutes to spare before sunset and walked into a side street, searching for someone to eat. His stomach was grumbling anyway, and the deep cuts on his abdomen hadn’t healed completely yet, so blood was what he needed. And Spike felt downright giddy at the thought that he could get it wherever and whenever he wanted.

He grabbed one hooker on her way home, an old man who was laying drunk in an alley and a young fellow in a business suit who had probably been on his way to work, draining them dry. He tossed the bodies carelessly into three different dumpsters and bounced back to his car, more hyper than when he’d woken up. Starting the ignition once again, he headed onto the freeway. It was once again time for William the Bloody to pay the Hellmouth a little visit.

*******

"She’s going to make it."

Giles sagged against the wall, relief washing over him. For two hours he’d clung to the hope of hearing that sentence. Two hours of his very own personal nightmare, replaying itself over and over in his head.

"Can-can we see her?"

The doctor shook her head. "I’m sorry, but she is still unconscious. Please wait until tomorrow. Visiting hours start at nine, I’m sure she’ll be awake by then." The woman excused herself with a smile and moved on to her next patient.

"Thank the Goddess," Willow breathed.

"Yeah, thank her from me too." Xander added, pulling his long time friend into a hug. His left arm had been bandaged by a nurse, but he had been told that his arms would be lightly scarred. Willow reciprocated, looping her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. After a few seconds she pulled away and addressed Giles.

"We should probably go home, now. It’s almost dawn. Xander and I will stop by at the morgue and pick up the stuff we left there. If the police aren’t already there, that is."

Giles nodded and slipped back into his jacket. His hair was in complete disarray, his tie was crooked and the left sleeve on his shirt was pulled up, while the right still covered his arm completely. He definitely looked worse for wear, even though it didn’t even come close to describing the true abyss in which his feelings had resided for the past hours.

He dragged himself out on the street and said good bye to his young friends. Then he started to walk towards his condo, taking deep measured breaths of the cool night air, thanking whatever gods there were that his girl would make it through one more day.

*******

Willow and Xander arrived at the morgue just in time to see the first rays of light claim the earth beneath them. They silently slipped into the building and headed straight to the room where they’d found Jesse.

Xander cringed when they hurried through the hallway, past the source of the explosion. Further down the hallway the ground was sprinkled with blood. Refusing to look at it, the two friends hurried into the room and Willow gathered her backpack, opening it and dumping the burned herbs into it.

Since they'd left the front door open, most of the smoke had disappeared. Willow hoped that it would be gone by the time the first employees came to work. Then again it hardly mattered, she realized. There was no way that Xander and she would stick around long enough to clean up the blood and the metal in the hallway, much less repair the damage they’d caused.

Xander arranged the white sheet, back over Jesse’s body and closed the door to the freezer. He hesitated and opened it again, walking inside. A few seconds later he came back out, holding the glass container with the brain in his hands.

Willow watched curiously as he turned on the crematorium and threw the container into the flames. The glass broke upon impact, and he turned around not interested in seeing its content turn to ashes.

"I just want to be safe. In this town you never know." he answered her questioning gaze.

Together they hurried back the way they’d come and Xander drove Willow to the dorm.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked. Her hand was about to open the door, but she hesitated. Xander stared thoughtfully ahead. "I’m going to drive home, lie down on my bed and listen to country music. And then, when I’m sure I don’t start either bawling like a wuss or heave at the picture of Buffy laying on that floor, I’ll try to find Anya and see if she’s still talking to me. And I will apologize."

Willow nodded. "I think, I’ll sub the country music for a bowl of ice-cream, but other than that, sound like a plan. Could you come over later tonight, if you’re not too busy with Anya. I want to pack some stuff for Buffy that we can bring her tomorrow. She’s going to go crazy staying in a hospital and I want to make this as easy as possible on her."

Xander nodded in agreement and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Ill be there!"

*******

Spike arrived in Sunnydale long after the sun had risen above the horizon. He parked his car in the old factory again, dreading to be confined to this place for the next ten hours. Damn California for its long days and short nights!

He had no idea how to pass the time other than with sleeping. This however proved difficult to him. After all he’d just woken from anesthesia and a vampire’s physiology was very different from a human’s. He didn’t really need any sleep. So instead he was lying on his bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling as his thoughts drifted to the little Slayer who had turned his life into a living hell numerous times, and still managed to capture his heart.

*Capture my heart? Could I possibly sound any more like a nancy-boy?* he cussed himself.

Was that even true? Had he really fallen in love with Buffy? Yeah, all right, he wanted to shag her into the ground, but was that everything?

Spike contemplated the questions in his mind for a long time. He remembered how content he’d felt in Buffy’s arms. How much it had excited him to hear her moan his name. And how deeply it had shocked him that she had been willing to offer him her blood.

That was the one scene that touched him the deepest. She’d offered her blood to him, even though she didn’t know if he would be able to stop, if he had the strength to hold her wrist to his mouth and drain her. She had put her own life at risk to save his. Would he do the same for her?

Spike honestly didn’t have an answer to that question. He was a vampire. Angelus had taught him to hate. Hate humans and most of all hate the Slayers. They were the bane of their existence. Of course, after Angelus had left him and Dru, he’d made a lot of discoveries about his own kind and humans by himself.

He didn’t hate them, he even enjoyed their company from time to time. When he was not torturing them to death, that was.

Buffy was so very different from any other Slayer he’d met. She was stronger, more vibrant and so full of life. At least she had been, before Angelus had screwed first with her body and then with her mind. She’d never really recovered from that. Over the past year she’d grown darker; more sure of herself as the Slayer, but insecure when it came to herself as a person.

He’d been attracted to her from the very first time he’d met her. Seeing her cry and scream, laugh and survive had only fueled that attraction. And then came the spell. He’d experienced how it felt to hold her in his arms. How it felt to have her kiss him of her own free will. Yeah, all right. Not technically free will, but she hadn’t been struggling against him or shown disgust and repulsion. It had thrown him off guard that it had been so easy to love her. Not because of the spell, but because she was.... who she was.

*So yes. I guess I love her. Question is, is that enough?* he wondered.

*******

When the sun had finally set. Spike exited the factory heading immediately towards college grounds. There he waited patiently for Buffy to start her patrol. Hours passed as he stood leaning against a tree, his eyes fixed on the door to Stevenson Hall.

Eventually he had enough and climbed up another tree in front of the window to the girl’s room. Looking through the glass into the illuminated room, he saw Willow and Xander dig through Buffy’s closet, dumping her clothes into a bag.

He leaned in closer, but he couldn’t understand their conversation due to a radio that had been turned up in the next room, which had its windows open.

*******

"I am so glad that she is going to be all right," Willow said. She added some underwear to the clothes in the bag so that Buffy had something to dress in when they visited her tomorrow. Knowing her friend, she was sure that Buffy would want to go home immediately since her accelerated Slayer healing will have taken care of most of her injuries by then.

"When she was thrown down the hallway, I was... I was sure that...." Willow trailed off as the horrible picture caused a tear to fall down her face. She choked back a sob and almost ripped Buffy’s tank top, as she tried to get it off the hanger.

"Hey, Will." Xander turned towards her and pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her. "It’s all right. She’s O.K. You’ll see, come tomorrow, she’s going to joke about it." He stroked the witch’s head with one hand, hugging her close to him with his other.

******

Spike frowned when he saw the red-head crying. That and the fact that they’d packed Buffy’s clothes sent a wave of anxiety through him. With a fluid movement he dropped from the tree and decided to walk over to the Slayer’s home.

The house on Revello Drive lay in darkness. No lights anywhere, no sound from within. He checked every window, only to discover them locked. It would have been easy for him to break one of them and enter since Buffy had never performed the uninvite spell, but Joyce’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He didn’t think that anyone was inside. The Slayer’s bedroom was empty except for the crates that were cramped into the small space between the bed and the wardrobe.

After his inspection he stood for a while in front of the house staring up at it. The sick feeling in his stomach started to get even worse, and he jogged down the street in order to get to the Watcher’s house as soon as possible.

Again he looked through the windows first and what he saw there shocked him to the core. Loud, hard rock music was blaring through the walls into the street. Giles was slouched on the couch, his shirt open. He hadn’t shaved in days and on the table stood two empty liquor bottles. A third was perched on his stomach, steadied by his left hand. Every so often the man would take a large gulp. He stared blankly off into the distance, not really seeing anything.

Spike felt panic grip his heart and turned on his heels. He broke into a run, trying to get as far away from the sight in front of his eyes and the implications that came with it. He was no fool. The only thing that could possible get Buffy’s friends into this condition was her death.

But she couldn’t be dead. She was the Slayer. She was Buffy. He hadn’t been able to put her down, and she was too resilient to let anyone else do it. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t fair.

Spike didn’t feel the tears that were streaming down his face. He didn’t see where he was going. He just kept on running. Running away from the life that had torn his heart out once again. Running from the imaginary picture of a young blond girl laying dead on the ground with a broken neck and blood streaming down her throat. Running from insanity.

He stumbled into the mansion, collapsing to his knees. His unneeded breaths came in painful chokes. His demon surfaced as he lost control over his emotions and for the rest of the night he proceeded to tear the place apart, trashing everything he could get his fingers on, hoping that the violence of his actions would override the pain in his heart.

******

"I _want_ to go home. And I _will_ go home!" Buffy insisted stubbornly.

"You came in here half dead, young lady. There is absolutely no way that I’ll let you get out of this bed much less out of this building anytime soon." The doctor was just as insistent as the Slayer, and they’d been having a heated argument for the past twenty minutes.

"Excuse me! But I-I do believe that you can’t hold her here against her will."

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed happily, gesturing for the man to enter. She noticed the dark rings below his eyes and knew that he’d probably not slept at all since he’d brought her here.

The doctor gave him a venomous look, but Giles didn’t even realize it. All he saw was Buffy. He had drunk himself into a stupor yesterday, trying to escape his fears for at least a few hours. It was not something he’d usually do. Giles was a man that stood with both feet on the ground, but the night he carried Buffy through the deserted hallway of the morgue, he had not only been afraid to lose her to death, he’d also remembered the only person he’d ever loved.

The image of finding Jenny looking so beautiful, even in death, was burned into his mind and haunted his every dream. Ever since Angelus had killed her, he’d realized that every one of them could die at any moment, and there was not much he could do to prevent it. Seeing Buffy like this had torn something inside of him apart, leaving him weak and broken for the next hours, until he’d heard that she’d be all right.

He had indulged himself in his weakness before he’d managed to gain a semblance of control again. This morning he’d woken with a terrible hang over, but after a long shower and about a gallon of coffee he felt better.

"I’m so glad to see you’re all right." He squeezed her hand affectionately and gave her a huge bouquet of flowers.

Buffy grinned happily and accepted them gratefully.

"She is not all right. I can not, under any circumstance agree to let her leave," the physician interrupted their moment of reconciliation.

"Well, you don’t have to agree. But I’m leaving anyway!" Buffy said unfazed by the women’s opinion.

A few minutes later, Xander and Willow arrived with her clothes and Buffy got dressed. She couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital. She hated hospitals. Besides, her injuries were almost healed except the slash over her abdomen, which they had stitched. She felt a little groggy, but otherwise fine. There really wasn’t any need for her to stay here.

*******

An hour later she dropped onto her bed in her dorm, spreading her arms and legs away from her body. Looking up at the ceiling, she sighed, her mind wandering to a certain vampire she missed more than she should.

"Umm.. Buffy?" Willow addressed her.

The Slayer turned her head to the side, giving Willow a reassuring smile. "I’m fine, Will. Really. Sore and aching in a couple of places, but nothing serious."

"That’s good, but actually that’s not what I wanted to ask you. Not that I’m not concerned about you. Xander I and were almost out of our minds with worry, not to mention Giles. We do worry... a lot. But... what I was wondering was... how did you know how to kill this thing?"

Buffy smirked as she heard her friend rambling on. It was something familiar. Something she could count on. It gave her a feeling of being at home, among the people she loved and who loved her back. To her it was security, safety and the only place where she could relax... just be Buffy. Nothing else.

"You remember how we talked about the emotions and how they’re influenced not only by environmental circumstances, but also hormones and stuff that changes the body’s electrical.... whatever it is, in class? O.K. so I don’t remember a whole lot of it. But I figured that if this thingy is feeding on jealousy, but any other emotion, like fear, injures it, that it had something to do with the body’s bio-electric field. It needed a certain form of energy. So any other energy that didn’t fit its need would hurt it severely. I just gave it more of the ‘bad’ energy than it could handle.“

Willow was impressed. She sat down beside Buffy and smiled down at her friend.

"You sure are the bestest Slayer there is!"

"Bestest?"

"Yep. Bestest." They shared a moment of quiet, neither one of them needing to say anything. They understood each other like best friends did, rendering verbal expressions unnecessary.

"Do you want me to get you anything. Something to drink? Food?"

"Food!" Buffy sat up. "I’m starving. Let’s go to a restaurant or something," she exclaimed eagerly scooting of the bed. "We could call Xander and ask him to join us."

"Actually I don’t think he can come. He’s still busy trying to get Anya to talk to him again."

"Poor Xander!" Buffy chuckled as the two friends made their way out of the dorm.

Part Seven

Day had come, followed by another night and another day. Still Spike had not left the mansion, except for food. On the third night he left the building, its wrecked interior a silent testimony of his mental condition.

He had to talk to the Watcher.

He had to know. And then he would kill whatever had done this to her. He’d kill it slowly and painfully. Its screams would echo through the night as its blood would spill onto the earth. He just hoped that the Watcher and Buffy’s friend hadn’t already taken care of it.

He stood in front of the Watcher’s condo for a long time, debating whether or not he had the courage to hear what had happened. The last thing he could afford would be to break down in front of the man. Finally he drew his duster closer around his body and knocked on the door.

******

"I’m fine. Thank you. Really... No, I don’t need you to come over...We’ll see each other next week...I promise!...Of course we can go out together...Yes, I will feel up to it...Riley, really. I’m fine...Yes...Yes, all right...Mmmhmm...Yes...Good night, Riley"

Buffy almost slammed the receiver down. As much as she appreciated Riley’s concern, he was starting to get on her nerves. He’d called her twice every day since he’d heard that she’d been in the hospital. He was sweet, and polite, and irritating the hell out of her.

Buffy walked into Giles’ kitchen and pulled a Coke out of the freezer. She chuckled slightly at the fact that Giles had been so worried about her that he hadn’t even argued about getting something besides tea and beer into his kitchen. He had driven to L.A. this morning, because Wesley had wanted to show him something important.

Giles would have never left just because the other Watcher had requested it, but Angel had backed him up, saying that it was important. She had promised to take care of his mail and flowers during his absence. So that’s why she was here tonight instead of the dorms. She had decided that she deserved a little time off, and Giles’ place was actually quiet cozy, not that she’d ever admit that.

A low knock on the door made her jump slightly. Sighing, she put the unopened can onto the counter and walked back into the living room.

When she opened the door, she got the surprise of her life as her eyes fell on a certain blond vampire, who was staring at her in utter shock.

"Spike!" she exclaimed in surprise. She wasn’t sure if she would need a stake, but with a Slayer’s habit, she calculated the distance to her backpack and if she could possible reach it before he’d pin her down.

"Buffy!" he choked out. Then she was in his arms, hugged so tightly that she had trouble breathing.

"Uh..Spike? You remember this funky little habit humans have? Called breathing? I need to do that!" she gasped.

Reluctantly Spike loosened his grip somewhat and pulled his head back so he could see into her eyes. At first he’d thought that he’d finally gone insane and was hallucinating. But the feel of her small but powerful body in his arms told him otherwise. Buffy gave him a confused smile and braced her hands lightly against the fabric of his black shirt. "All right. What’s going on?" she asked after taking a few deep breaths.

Instead of a verbal response, Spike pressed his lips to hers. Buffy stiffened in surprise, her eyes wide, portraying her shock. But then she sagged against him and gave in to the tingling feeling that spread through her body. His lips moved over hers, gently coaxing them apart. His tongue darted along her lower lip and Buffy moaned in the back of her throat, meeting it with her own. She continued her exploration, running the tip first over his lower, than over his upper lip, before entering his cool mouth. He let her explore for some time, before joining her tongue in battle, sighing against her lips.

Spike shrugged out of his duster, pulling her back into his arms as soon as his hand were free. Her own hands clenched around the material of his shirt as he lightly sucked her tongue deeper into his mouth. She raised herself to her toes, in order to get closer to him and he wound one of his hands into her hair, holding the back of her head to him, irrationally afraid that she would break away.

With her still in his arms, he walked forward, kicking the door closed with his boot. He lifted her off her feet and turned, letting himself fall backwards onto the floor so that she was on top of him.

"Buffy?" he asked against her mouth.

"Mmmmh?" she opened her eyes and saw the serious expression on his face. Looking at him expectantly she trailed her fingertips over his scarred eyebrow.

"Do you want this?" What he meant to ask was ‘Do you want me?’ But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, in fear of the answer. He knew how much she’d loved Angel and he couldn’t bear the thought of being a substitute.

She looked at him openly and without fear. "Yes!" she whispered. "I want this. I want you, Spike. More than anything else!"

********

When the tremors had subsided , he rolled onto his back and pulled Buffy with him. She lay nestled in the crook of his arm, a happy smile on her face as she snuggled against his chest. Her fingertips drew lazy patterns on his chest, and she pressed a kiss to his side.

They lay in silence for a while, just enjoying the feel of each other. Eventually Buffy probed herself up on her elbow to face him.

"So... did you get the chip out?" she asked quietly.

"Yes! I’m my old evil self again. Well...not quiet as evil, seeing that we just made love and I didn’t even take a single drop of your blood!"

"Why didn’t you?"

"I like you alive and kicking, luv. Lots more fun this way!" He smirked and pulled her into a tender kiss. "Of course, there is this whole ‘me being in love with you’ thing, that would kinda get in the way of killing you."

Buffy stared at him speechless. After a whole thirty seconds she finally found he voice again. "Could you....say that...again?" She choked out, her eyes huge as saucers.

"I said that I like you alive and kicking." he repeated, knowing very well that she wanted him to say a different sentence again, but it was fun teasing her.

"That’s not what I meant." She scowled at him and lightly swatted him across his chest.

Spike caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to each of her fingertips, working his way from her thumb to her pinkie. "I love you," he whispered against her skin, holding her eyes captured with his own.

Buffy’s mouth formed a perfect 'o', as she heard him say those words. Then she squealed in delight and threw her arms around him. He caught her, joining in her laughter and pulling her on top of him. She straddled his waist and started to nibble on his lower lip as his hands wound into her hair.

"You do realize that being with me means that you can’t feed on humans?" she questioned, needing to make that point perfectly clear between them. "Despite the fact that you got the chip out?"

Spike looked up at the women he loved. The woman he’d thought dead only an hour ago. And he nodded. Because the anguish and unbearable pain that he’d experienced at the though of losing her had taught him a lesson. He was not going to give her up or let anything come between them, ever again. He loved her. He needed her. And if that meant living on those soddin’ blood bags, then what the hell. He would survive it. And maybe, she’d even let him feed on her every once in a while. It was a trade he’d happily make with all his heart.

"Agreed, luv." He didn’t think that the sun could shine any brighter than the smile that Buffy gave him at that moment. She leaned down to capture his mouth in a sweet kiss, that rapidly turned more passionate, as Spike brushed his tongue over her lips. She allowed him entrance without hesitation and a low moan rumbled from deep in his throat.

A sudden thought occurred to Buffy and she blushed bright red, breaking the kiss. "It wasn’t a dream, was it?" she asked. She didn’t know why, but for some reason she was knew with absolute certainty that she had not been imagining that he’d pleasured her in Giles’ bedroom.

He gave her a cocky grin, that send her heart pounding in her chest. "No, luv. It wasn’t a dream."

"Ahhh!" she groaned in embarrassment and buried her head in his chest.

He chuckled and cupped her head in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Don’t ever be embarrassed, Buffy. I wanted you so badly up there that I’d have taken you right there, not caring that Giles would hear us."

"Then why didn’t you?" She inquired, curious.

"You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you."

"Spike?"

"Mmmh?"

Buffy slid both her hands underneath her chin, getting comfortable on him. "Why did you leave, without saying a word? You could have woken me up!"

Spike sighed and put his arms around her. "I wanted to say good bye, but Giles made it pretty clear that I was to leave town and never come back. I think he wanted to protect you when he told me not to go see you."

Buffy scowled. "He did?!" She was so going to have to talk to her Watcher, once he got home.

Spike nodded.

They were quiet for a long time, not moving an inch, just holding and caressing each other. Buffy slid off him and back to his side, throwing one arm across his chest and nestling a leg between his.

His shifted to his side and propped himself on his elbow, letting his eyes roam over her nude body.

"Where did you get this?" Spike asked, trailing his fingertips over the scar on her abdomen. He chuckled slightly when he realized that it equaled his own scar in length and position. Buffy caught his comparative look and smiled lazily.

"Oh right. I didn’t even tell you that. A lot happened since you left town." She snuggled closer to him and spend the next hour telling him about everything that had happened. When she came to the part, where she’d been injured by the explosion, he tightened his arms around her, realizing how close he’d come to losing her.

"So this Blithear really was responsible for all the trouble?" he asked theoretical.

"It looks like it. Well, we can’t really prove that it caused the attack on you, but it definitely fed on Jesse at one point that night."

Spike nodded unconvinced. "But you don’t know if it fed on the others,do you?"

Buffy was quiet for several seconds. Finally she shook her head. "No Spike, I don’t know that. Do you think that they attacked you of their own motivation?" she asked him sincerely interested.

"It’s possible."

She sighed against his skin. "I guess living on the Hellmouth sort of makes it easier to blame demons and magic, rather than humans. It makes it easier to overlook the fact that humans can be just as bad as demons can be. I don’t know if you got attacked because of Blithear or because those guys were just so full of rage that they enjoyed the rush of almost beating you to death. And I don’t see any chance to ever find that out. But I’m glad that you’re ali...undead," she confessed quietly.

His pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her sweet fresh scent of mint and strawberries. "I like myself that way, too," he joked back, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice, betraying the depth of his emotions.

Buffy raised her head and looked deep into his blazing blue eyes. She cupped his check in one hand and Spike instinctively nuzzled into it. "I love you," she whispered.

EPILOGUE

Giles was dog tired. The sun had just started to rise in the sky as he walked up to his apartment. He’d spent the last night listening patiently to Wesley’s lecture about the possibility of great evil rising in Sunnydale due to a certain prophecy he’d found in his copy of the Chronicles of Betar the Myponien.

Giles had unsuccessfully tried to hide his glee as he informed the younger man that Blithear had been taken care off and that the next time he found out anything ‘important’ he should just tell him on the phone instead of insisting that he make the trip to LA..

He opened the door to his condo and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. His Slayer. His little girl was curled on the floor, naked, and an equally naked bleached blond vampire was curled up behind her, his arm protectively encircling her waist. They were sleeping peacefully, both of them with a light smile on their faces.

Even without the distinct scent assaulting his nostrils, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing. Since Buffy looked alive and unharmed, Giles closed his eyes, turned around, walked back out of the apartment and locked the door firmly behind him.

He definitely needed a scotch.

End