Disclaimer-Not mine, never will be. Only in my wicked imagination.

Feedback-Please, please. But remember I have delicate feelings. No raging bonfires, please.

Spoilers- Set directly after Wrecked. Gone never happened. Also, no mention of what is happening on ATS.

HEAVEN HAS NO RAGE

Buffy sat in the Bronze, blankly staring at the people dancing. She had left Willow under the watchful eyes Anya and Xander, and Dawn was at some friend's house. Buffy had made sure to do the parental thing and talk to the girls' mother first this time. No repeats of Halloween for Buffy. Not this time, she was on it like the good little Slayer/parent should be.

In fact, if Buffy had her way, there would be NO repeats of ANY of the nights from the last few weeks. One very 'disgusting and perverse' night in particular. Buffy quickly shoved the thought of Spike from her mind for the umpteenth time that night.

She'd been having a hard time since the night of Willow and Dawns little adventure. She was worried about Willow, and Dawn could barely stay in the same house, much less the same room with the witch. Things at home were unpleasant at best, and she still had Spike on the brain. How lame was that?

Had it really only been a week since that night? Only six days since she'd redecorated her room ala Chef Boy R Dee, garlic hanging on every window. He hadn't shown up that night, and she had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, only to wake up sweaty and achy with want. Why was she cursed with this desire for the undead? Angel and Spike have ruined me for the living, she thought bitterly. Especially Spike, a tiny voice in the back of her head added.. Ooh, bad Buffy, she scolded herself. Under no threat of death would she admit that the night with Spike had been more exciting than the one she had spent with Angel. Granted, she had been a scared virgin with Angel, and he had woken up Angelus and all hell had broken loose. But Spike . . . Spike had been thrilling, giving her as good as she gave.

Why are you thinking like this, it's getting you know where? She cursed herself. She quickly swallowed the rest of her drink and ordered another one. As she settled back in her seat, her eyes swept to the door. Just as the object of her denial breezed through.

Dammit, can't I get any peace? Buffy tensed, waiting for him to hover over her like he always did. The nasty comment that had sprung to her lips dies the second she realized he didn't even pause at her table. Without sparing her a glance, he strode past her, his duster billowing behind him and he walked to the bar.

With a jolt, Buffy realized her mouth was still open in preparation to cut him down had he stopped. With a sharp clack of her teeth, she closed it. She watched him as he settled against the bar to drink the beer he had ordered. He hadn't even looked at her, the jerk! Wait a minute, you don't want him to look at you, she reminded herself. Or to talk to you, or to remind you of that night at all. You're doing a good enough job of that yourself, that tiny voice was back. Grimacing, she ignored it, denying her anger at being snubbed.

But her eyes continued to settle on him as if they had a will of their own. His long fingers were casually peeling the label off the bottle in between drinks. The memory of those same fingers peeling her clothes off sprang unbidden to her mind. God, pathetic much, Buffy asked herself. He shifted his stance, and she imagined the muscles rippling under the leather of the duster. Said same duster that they had spent the night doing many bad things on. Bad, BAD Buffy. Him vampire, you Slayer. Grrrrr.

He tilted his head back to drain his beer, and she saw the faint bruise marring his cheek. She was delighted by the fact that she had put it there, remembering her similar ones. Spike reached into his pocket, pulled out a few bills and threw them on the bar, nodding toward the bartender. Then he breezed out a quickly as he had breezed in.

Buffy waited a full thirty seconds before throwing her own money on the table and storming out, fully intending to give him a piece of her mind. Never mind that she wanted to forget that it ever happened. How dare he treat her like Parker had? When she caught up with that peroxided vampire, she was definitely going to stake him this time.

As she stepped out of the Bronze, she saw him. He was leaning casually against the building across from her, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange in the dark. He looked like he knew she would come after him. And damn, if she hadn't obliged him.

"Hello, luv." He purred, expelling the smoke from his lungs. "Looking for something?" His voice, low and seductive, washed over her, inviting feeling she didn't want to feel. As she stood there motionless, he took a step toward her.

"Pet?"

What was she supposed to tell him? That she had come out here to tell him off. That would make it seem like she cared, and God knows she didn't want him to think that.

"I was just going home." She lied, hoping her voice was convincing. She could tell by the look on his face that it wasn't.

"Un huh." He dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He slowly made his way over to her, reminding her of a cat, sleek and graceful. Buffy's heart started to pound in her chest as he drew near, and his smirk told her he heard it. Damn vampire hearing, she cursed. He stopped within an inch of her, his duster brushing her body. His blue eyes bore into hers, daring her to deny him. He really is beautiful, she thought mesmerized as his head dipped slowly toward her. He stopped, so close he could feel her breath tickling his lips.

"What do you want, Buffy?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I....." She stammered. KISS HIM her body screamed.

"What?" Their lips were almost touching, and her blood was humming in her ears. Her eyes drifted closed, anticipating . . .

And then snapped open again as he roughly grabbed her upper arms. She squeaked when he pushed her to the side, his fist connecting solidly with the chin of the vampire that had snuck up on them. She watched as a stake appeared seemingly out of nowhere in his hand and plunged deeply into the chest of his opponents' heart. No sooner had the dust cleared when a second and a third advanced upon the.

"A little help, Slayer.' Spike ground out as he dusted those two. More were coming, a lot more. Buffy jumped to her feet, he Slayer instincts kicking into overdrive. She staked the one coming at her, then a roundhouse kicked the following one. She scanned the area quickly, feeling a slight twinge of panic. They were coming at them in waves. As quick as Buffy and Spike were slaying them, they were replaced by new ones.

She had lost count on how many she had dusted, when she spared a look at Spike. A cry escaped her lips as she sat him slide bonelessly to the ground. She staked the vampire she'd been fighting and ran to him, kicking and punching to clear her way.

"Spike?" She nudged him with her foot. He wasn't dust, that was good. She spared a glance down at him and saw the orange feathered dart sticking out of his neck. Buffy dropped to a crouch, noticing the vamps had stopped advancing. With a hiss, she pulled the offending object out of his skin, and tossed it aside.

"Buffy." His eyes were barely open, fighting for consciousness. "Get Angel."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "What?"

"Behind you." He mumbled, before his eyes drifted shut.

Buffy turned in time to see the board swinging at her. Then everything went black.

PART 2

Buffy came awake slowly, pain forcing her into consciousness.

"She's coming too," she heard someone say. Anya, she thought.

Buffy tried to open her eyes, and then immediately thought better of it as pain sliced through her skull.

"Buffy?" Dawn.

"Yeah?" She said, her voice barely above a croak. She slowly opened her eyes, fighting back the nausea that seized her. Dawn was sitting next to her on her bed. Xander and Anya were standing by the door. Willow was sitting in a chair by the window, looking pale and lost. But one presence was very noticeably NOT there.

"Where's Spike?" she managed, dread coarsing through her veins at the expressions on every bodies faces.

"We didn't find him." Xander finally answered. "But we found this laying next to you." He walked over to her door and took the object hanging on the back of it down. He carried it over to Buffy.

Her fingers curled around the soft worn leather of his duster. She drew it to her face and inhaled deeply his scent-smoke leather and that earthy wild scent that clung to him.

"Oh, God." She said, choking on the words. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had she let her guard down? If only she'd . . . what, Buffy reminded herself as tears formed in her eyes. What could you have done? There were too many.

"Too many," Buffy whispered out loud, as a sob tore from her throat. They all looked at her in stunned silence. Except Dawn, who wrapped her good arm around her sister, there tears mingling. Now what? Buffy thought. She disengaged herself from Dawn, stood up carefully, and slipped into the duster, dipping her hands deep into the pockets. Her heart was breaking and she didn't know what to do. Her fingers brushed over his cigarettes and she felt a new wave of grief overtake her. She knew her friends were looking at her, but she didn't care. She'd lost Spike, and her already dark world just got a whole lot darker.

"BUFFY!" Buffy's head snapped up as Tara rushed into the room, holding a long white envelope. "I just found this in front of the door.. I was in the kitchen, making some tea, and I heard a knock on the front door. I went to go see, but nobody was there. When I closed the door, I saw that. It has your name on it." The witch explained quickly. Tara handed the envelope to Buffy.

The Slayer slid the paper through her hands, noticing her name written in elegant letters across the front. It's heavy, she thought, sliding her finger under the flap. She looked into the envelope and pulled out a gold necklace that had a lock of platinum blonde hair attached. Buffy sank down onto her bed as she realized that the hair was Spikes'. She barely registered Dawns' cry of anguish as she reached in and pulled out the letter.

He's not dead. YET.

Lilith

Buffy felt the world tilt as the words on the paper sunk in. He wasn't dead, she thought as the paper slipped unnoticed from her fingers to the floor. Xander picked it up, quickly reading it.

"Who's Lilith?" Xander asked, glancing at the blonde Slayer.

"I don't know." Buffy answered as she felt something spread through her that she hadn't felt in a long time. Hope.

"Why don't you tell us what happened last night?" Tara suggested, casting a worried eye toward Willow. She hadn't moved from the chair, nor did she seem to care very much what was going on.

"All right." Buffy said, quickly re-counting the prior nights' events, leaving certain facts, up to when she was knocked out.

"Why would Junior want you to call Dead boy?" Xander asked.

"I don't know, but I guess I had better. Maybe he can shed some light on this." Buffy replied, running her hands over her leather-covered arms, finding comfort. She looked at Dawn, running a hand over her sisters' tear stained cheek. "Don't worry. We'll find him." She said, reassuring herself as well as Dawn.

PART 3

Los Angeles

Angel listened carefully as Buffy explained what happened. At the mention of the name signed on the letter, his heart would have stopped had it still beat. Lilith. He hadn't heard that name in a long time. Fear started to spread through him for his child. What in the hell would she want with Spike?

"All right, I'll leave tonight." He said, then hung up the phone. He felt a warm hand run down his back.

"Trouble?" Cordelias' tired voice asked.

"Yeah. I have to go back to Sunnydale." He said. Her hand stilled.

"Why?"

"Something from my past has risen up to bite the people I care about in the ass." Angel answered, dragging his hands through his dark hair.

"What time?"

"As soon as the sun sets." He felt her get out of the bed, and turned to see her pull her robe on. She pulled his duffle bag out of the closet then started to fill it with clothes. His, and the ones she left at the hotel for emergencies.

"Cordy, what are you doing?"

"Well, if we're going, we need to pack." She said, never looking up from her task

It never occurred to him to argue.

Sunnydale-That night

Buffy paced across the living room, impatient for Angel to appear. She hated the sitting and waiting. She was more of the going and doing sort of person. Of course, she didn't have any idea what was going on, so she was stuck with the sitting and waiting.

In the hours since she had called Angel, she had taken a shower and dressed. The cut on her head from where the board had struck her was almost gone, yea Slayer healing abilities. After she had dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt, she had slipped back into Spike's duster, rolling up the sleeves and putting on heeled boots so it wouldn't drag the floor. Her pacing made it billow behind her, reminding everyone in the room of the hyper young vampire who should have been wearing it.

Tara had forced some tea on her and had managed to get Buffy to eat some soup, using a force of will none had associated with the quiet girl. Buffy was running on raw nerves, her mind a revolving door of memories of the last couple of years:

Spike stepping out of the shadows at the Bronze for the first time, clapping.

Spike at parent teacher night.

"Do we have to use weapons for this?"

"I like 'em. They make me feel all manly."

Spike worried he couldn't project her from a demon attack when they were "engaged."

The way he'd looked when he talked about the slayers' he'd killed.

"You got off on it." She had accused.

"Yeah, don't tell me you don't." She hadn't been able to disagree, no matter how much she had wanted to.

"You think we're dancing?"

"That's all we've ever done,

Chaining her to a wall to profess his undying love for her.

Allowing Glory to almost kill him, to protect Dawn.

Not leaving after she had died.

"How long have I been gone?"

"147 days yesterday. 148 today. But today doesn't count, does it?"

God, I am an idiot, she thought. That's when Buffy heard the knock on the door. Before anybody could move, she was at the door, pulling it open, revealing the dark-haired form of her first love.

"Angel."

"Buffy." And with a sob, she was in his arms, crying for everything she'd never said and was afraid she'd never be able to.

"Hey, Angel, Could you move?" Cordelia asked from behind him. Buffy disengaged herself from Angels' arms and moved back into the living room.

"Oh great." She heard Xander mutter as the May queen entered. Apparently Cordy heard him too, because if looks could kill, Xander would have been but a memory.

Then Cordy did something that suprized everybody in the room, especially Buffy. She walked over to Buffy an wrapped her in her arms.

"We'll get him back for you." Cordy whispered in her ear. Buffy's eyes widened, then she felt herself relax in the taller girl's embrace.

"Thank you." Buffy murmured back. With a pat on her back, Cordelia released her.

"So, Xander, still a loser?" She asked him, smiling evilly.

"So, Cordy, still a bitch?" Xander shot back.

"Always."

"Cordy." Angel said, taking her wrist in his hand. Cordy arched an elegant eyebrow before shrugging and settling on the couch. Angel stepped closer to Buffy and studied her face. Her hazel eyes were red rimmed and swollen. Her face was tear streaked. Her golden hair was twisted and attached to her head by a clip, tendrils sticking out at odd angles. She looked so small huddled in Spikes' duster.

The scent of his child assailed him, coming off of her in waves, cracking the lid on his own fear. He closed his eyes, and willed the feeling back down. He wouldn't let it get the better of him.

"Angel?" He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Who's Lilith?"

"Giles never told you about her?" That's when he noticed the watcher's absence. "Where is he by the way?"

"No, he never told me about her, and he went back to England." Buffy answered, not wanting to think of the other man she had lost. Why do they always leave? She closed her eyes against the wave of grief that assailed her. Angel watched as she fought for control. When she opened her eyes at last, he started his tale.

"There is a legend in the vampire world about a vampire who was created by the hands of God. According to said legend, she was created to be Adams' first wife. However, she was flawed with an insatiable blood lust from which spawned demons. She is the first and she is pure, with no corruption of humanity. Now, many vampires believe that if she can be bested in a fight, and then she can be fed from, the vampire that accomplishes that will have the power of God. As you can imagine, several have tried. I only know of two that have survived." Angel paused, taking a deep unneeded breath.

"Who were those two?" Buffy asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer.'

"Dracula is one. He became her lover." Angel stopped again, looking down at the floor. "I was the second."

The shock permeated through Buffy making her feel light headed. The thought that this might have something to do with Angel had never occurred to her. And now that she knew, her anger at the dark haired vampire was complete.

She glanced around at the others and could tell that they were struggling with the same reaction. Cordy was sitting on the couch, staring holes through Angels' back. Xander had paled considerably and Anya looked confused.

"You mean you're the 'angelic one'" Anya asked. Angel pinned her with his dark eyes.

"You've heard of this?" Buffy asked the blonde, her jaw clenching in anger. "Why didn't you mention this before. It may have been helpful."

Oh, well, I wasn't sure if it was the same one. I've met a lot of vampiress' attempting to be her. I've met her and none of the others compared to her." Buffy kept her jaw clenched to keep from screaming at the ex-vengeance demon. Xander was staring at his fiancé.

"What?" she asked him.

"An, you really need to tell us these things." He began, not really sure how to continue.

"What can you tell us about her?" Buffy cut in. Anya took a minute to think.

"Well, she's very beautiful. Extremely powerful. If she let you live than there was a reason. She is not known for her charity. Or compassion. And she likes to play games."

"I don't care what she does for a hobby." Buffy spat.

"You should. You see I met her because I was called by this girl to exact revenge against her husband who was sleeping with her best friend. Kind of routine, but as I was about to curse them pustules, and such, Lilith approached me. She said she wanted to see if she could help the situation. I said why not. I was bored, I admit. Wanted to see what she could do. So, she takes the girl that called me, tied her up, tortured her, than made the man choose between her and her best friend, who had equally been abused. Whoever he didn't choose would die. Needless to say, both girls started to beg him. He couldn't take it, so he chose death for himself. Then Lilith let the girls go and told them to choose with more wisdom next time." Anya finished her story and looked at the others' in the room. Buffy turned back to Angel.

"What about you? If you survived, how come you don't have God like powers?

"Because I never fed off of her. When we were in Europe, Dru had one of her spells and knew that Lilith was there also. I tracked her down to Transylvania. Apparently she was visiting Dracula. Well, I walked in there and challenged her. She laughed at me. Told me to go away, she didn't have time to discipline a petulant child. I was enraged. I was nobody's child, not Darla's, not hers. And, to make a long story short, she nearly killed me. It took me twenty years to fully recover, and not long after that I was cursed. I never understood why she let me live. The only thing she said to me as Dru and Darla pulled me out of there was that I was special and that we would meet again." Angel said.

"So, what. Is Spike? Your engraved invitation?" Angel tensed at the underlying fury in her voice.

"I don't know. Lilith is unpredictable. She's been around so long, she's lost whatever sanity she had."

"Okay." Buffy said, taking a deep breath and releasing her anger. "How do we find her?"

"Not until she wants us to." Angel answered.

"So we're just supposed to sit here and wait?" Buffy shot back. "NOT acceptable."

"Could you guys leave us alone for a minute." Angel asked, never taking his eyes off the slight woman in front of him.

"Sure." Cordy said, taking the lead. She shot the other a couple a pointed look. As she walked past Angel, she slid a hand sown his arm and smiled reassuringly. Buffy noticed the action, and the look in Cordy's eye. Angel and Cordelia, who'd a thunk it, she thought vaguely.

"Oh," Anya said, pausing next to Buffy. "Another thing. The theory about getting any kind of powers is all wrong. All it does is drive them to madness. And as far as I know there is only one cure."

"What's that?" Buffy asked.

"Slayers' blood."

Buffy's face paled as Xander led her from the room.

"What is it about my blood and vampire's. It's like the undead quicker fixer upper." Buffy sighed, suddenly very tired. Angel walked over to her and loosely took her hands in his. Her eyes were swirling with emotion and she returned his gaze.

"I don't know what her game is, but we will find him." She nodded once, needing to believe him. She watched his face as his nostrils flared, and his eyes widened. Angel had inhaled deeply, taking in her scent and Spikes'. His childes' scent seemed different standing closer to her. Then he realized why. "He's taken you as his own." He whispered. He waited for the jealousy to kick in, but the feeling that came over him was bittersweet.

"So much for normal, huh?' She said, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. That laugh turned into a sob and Angel gathered her up in his arms and held her until they subsided. "He can't die." She said in a whisper.

"He won't."

PART 4

Spike felt consciousness returning slowly. His head was pounding and it seemed that light was shining from behind his closed eyelids. He tried to swing his left arm up to cover his eyes, and realized quickly that he couldn't. He tried his right arm next and discovered the same thing. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh light. He turned his head, groaning against the pain, to see his arm strapped down tight. A quick pull of his legs told him they were tied down to. His feet were bare and he was shirtless. Bloody hell, he thought, now what.

He heard a match strike, smelled the sulphur and tensed. The flame landed on his chest, making him his in unneeded air. He smelled his own burning flesh, and tried not to pass out as another match joined the first one. He was still weak from the drugs, and his threshold for pain was not at it's peak.

"You're awake." A throaty voice stated. Spike turned his head the opposite way and found him staring into the eyes of Hell.

"Lilith."

The woman standing before him was perfection. The sort of beauty you were afraid to look at too long, lest you go blind. Her long black hair hung in a waterfall of curls to her waist. Tendrils of it curled around a face that was deceptively angelic. She had high cheekbones, large, almond shaped green eyes, and a perfectly straight nose. Her skin was flawless, reminding him of the china dolls Dru was so fond of. Her lips were the color of fresh blood.

Her long slim legs were encased in a pair of black leather pants that hung low on her hips. She wore a matching leather vest that pressed her ample breasts together and up. A large blood colored stone was nestled in between them and attached to the heavy gold chain around her neck. On her feet were a pair of high heeled boots, that laced up.

Another match flared, casting an eerie glow across her face. With a careless flick of her wrist, It sailed through the air and landed on the rigid muscle of his stomach.

He hissed again, and strained against his bonds. His eyes watered with the pain, but he refused to scream. Wouldn't give the bint the satisfaction. What is it with me and crazy hell bitches kidnaping and torturing me, he thought bitterly.

"She will come." Lilith said, her voice almost a purr.

"Who?" He asked, shaking off the pain.

"Your Slayer." she answered, hopping up on the table and straddling his hips.

Images of Buffy swept through his mind. Images of that night in particular. The passion and violence in which they had fought had carried over through the night. They had come together many times, and the way she reacted to his touch, he knew it was just a matter of time before she quit denying her feelings for him. At least he didn't have a pesky soul to lose like his nancy boy sire.

It had pleased him immensely when she had screamed out his name every time he brought her over the edge. No substitute for Angel was he, no matter what she had tried to convince him of in the morning. He'd seen it in her eyes, knew in his gut she'd be back. He'd gone to the Bronze that night to test a theory, and damned if she didn't cooperate. If only they hadn't gotten attacked. Which led him back to the very lethal female sitting across his abdomen. And because of his prior thoughts, he had given Lilith a hard surface to sit upon.

`"Don't worry, darling. I know that's not for me." Lilith chuckled, gently cupping his chin. With her other hand, she traced a finger nail down his right cheek. He felt the sting of her nail, then smelled the coppery scent of his blood. He tried to jerk his head away, but the hand cupped around his chin held him in place.

"We can't let the Slayer think we spoiled you while you were here, now can we? She might not want to come and save you then." An evil smile spread across her face as she sliced another gash down his handsome face.

"What are you up to, Lilith? Why do you want the Slayer?"

"Why do you?" She whispered, running her tongue along the gash. He flinched at the coldness of her touch, already used to Buffy's warmth.

"Does that really matter? You're the one that's got me tied up to a bloody table. You've got some reason for it. What is it?" He asked again.

"All in good time, William, all in good time."

This time he did scream as her nails raked down his chest, leaving bloody gashes in there wake.

PART 5

Angel watched Buffy as she lay on the couch. She had finally drifted off to sleep. A fitful sleep, but sleep none the less. She was still wrapped in Spikes' duster, and occasionally she would mumble is name.

How much had changed since he had been in L. A. He had wanted normal for her, but he guessed that wasn't in the cards. And given Spike's ability to fiercely protect the on he loved, they should be okay.

Angel sighed and mentally let go of the girl he had loved. Before him now was a woman who had been through hell and needed whatever happiness she could get. With one last glance at the sleeping blond, Angel turned and walked towards the kitchen.

He heard the argument before he actually got there.

"Why don't you SHUT UP Xander. You don't know what you're talking about." Cordy snapped. She saw Angel walk in and went to the refrigerator to pull out a blood bag.

"I think I know a little better than you. I've been around for the last two years. I don't see why she's all wiggy about getting him back. Let the Queen Vamp have him."

"Xander, he has been helping." Tara started.

"Yeah, all because of some sicko obsession he has with Buffy. Did you know that he had a robot made to look just like her. For a sex toy!"Xander said indignantly. Cordy looked a little icked out, and it didn't really settle well with Angel either. But he figured since Spike wasn't dust, Buffy had forgiven him.

"Nobody knows better than me what he is capable of. He is my childe." Angel began, accepting the mug Cordy handed him. "But believe me when I say, that if he has said that he is love with Buffy, then he is in love with Buffy. Remember, he was with Dru for over a century, and it wasn't for her conversational skills."

"How can he love if he's soulless?" Tara asked.

"Soulless doesn't mean emotionless." Angel answered. "Most vamps just embrace the demon and let it rule their lives. Spike's always been. . .different. He can be the picture of evil one minute, and then the most gentle person the next."

"Is that true?" Angel turned towards the voice, saw Buffy, and nodded.

"Does that really matter?" Xander asked, hoping he knew the answer.

"It does to me." Buffy said. Xander's shoulders slumped, and his mouth drew into a hard line. Buffy met his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. In the past, she had taken his comments about Angel, the disapproving looks. Not this time.

Xander dropped his eyes first, and when the doorbell rang, he went to answer it.

"If anybody else has a problem with getting Spike back,. You don't have to be a part of this." She stared at each in turn, but nobody said anything.

"Buffy." She turned to face Xander, and paled at the object he was holding Spikes' torn and bloody blue shirt hung from his left hand. In his right hand he held an envelope. Angel stepped forward and took the shirt, grief blooming in his chest. He smiled as Cordy wrapped an arm around his waist, giving it a light squeeze. He laid his arm across her shoulder, breathing in her scent, letting it calm him.

"Give me the envelope, Xander." He said, as Buffy continued to stand in stony silence. Xander went to hand it to Angel, but Buffy snatched it out of his hand.

"No, I've got it." She ripped it open, and pulled out the letter. Everybody watched as she read it, waiting for her to tell them what it said.

Slayer, she began, Your presence is requested at 115 Sparrow Street tomorrow night at sundown. Bring whomever, and whatever you wish.

Lilith

"Well, that's where she is." Anya said. "Go get her." Cordy stared at the ex demon as if she was a cross bbetween a rock and a piece of chewed gum.

"Real Einstein you got there, Xand." The brunette snipped.

"At least she has a pulse." He replied.

"Could you two please STOP?!" Buffy said. "We cannot go in there with stakes flying and holy water spraying. We don't know what she's done with Spike, and I'm not willing to risk him getting dusted."

"No, but we can do some recon." Dawn popped up, looking extremely eager to do just that.

"WE aren't doing anything." Buffy replied pointedly. "I want you to stay with Tara until this is over."

"But, Buffy. She said bring anybody."

"Not my 15 year old sister! No Dawn."

"Fine!" Dawn snapped. She ran out of the kitchen, tears shining in her eyes. They listened as she stomped up the stairs and slam the door to her room.

"I'll go talk to her." Tara said. Buffy smiled gratefully at the blonde witch, then turned back to the others in the room.

"Anya, would you stay here with Willow?" Anya nodded her head. "Alright, Xander, go to the Magic Box and get as much holy water and extra weapons you can. I'm going to go check this place out."

"Buffy," Angel touched her arm, stilling her before she could leave the kitchen.

"You've hardly slept and I haven't seen you eat anything since I have gotten here."

"And?"

"And," Angel said through clenched teeth, "You need to be at your best if you want to get him back. Me and Cordy can go check things out." Angel gripped the young Slayer by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. She knew he was right, she just hated feeling so helpless.

"Fine, I'll stay. Be careful." Angel nodded and Cordy smiled.

"Just another funfilled day on the Hellmouth. " Cordy quipped as she followed Angel out. Xander kissed Anya goodbye and left.

"I'm going to check on Willow." Anya said, leaving Buffy to her own thoughts. The blonde girl started to move around the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Tara came back into the kitchen, foloowed by Dawn, who was carrying an overnight case.

"Dawnie," Buffy said, gently touching the teenagers arm. The young girls eyes were bright with tears as the met Buffys'." The Slayer opened her arms and Dawn stepped into them, allowing her tears to flow, all over Spikes' duster. "It's okay, honey."

"Be careful, and bring him home." The girl said.

"I will. Be good for Tara." Dawn shook her head, then followed Tara out the door. Alone in the kitchen again, Buffy filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave, setting ot for two minutes. Opening a cabinte, she pulled out the cocoa mix, marshmallows, and the peanut butter. She went about making her meal quickly, then sat down at the table. Her first sip of the chocolate brought back memories of Spike and her mother sitting in the kitchen talking about Passions or her work. Her mother had always liked the blonde vampire, even before the chip. Buffy could never figure it out. Especially when her mother made such a point of hating Angel.

Buffy ate her sandwich, not noticing the tears streaming down her face.

PART 6

Spike felt like hell. Hell probably wasn't a strong enough word, but it was all his tired mind could come up with Lilith had had great fun with him today. He had finally passed out when she had started to sprinkle holy water across his chest and stomach.

He had abruptly awoken when she felt her razo sharp teeth puncture his neck, draining him to the brink of death, leaving him weak and tired. His demon had surfaced, snapping for food, not realizing that the blood it was smelling was it's own.

When he thought he would go crazy from the blood lust coursing through him, she had raised a goblet to his lips, and let him drink. He knew instantly that it was human and his eyes snapped to hers.

"Don't worry, it's nobody you know." She said, her green eyes laughing. Spike had been so hungry that he wasn't sure if he would have cared if it was. She didn't give him enough, however, pulling the glass away before he had drained it. He couldn't figure out what she was doing or why she wanted the Slayer. The only thing he was sure of was that she wanted him weak. She had untied him after he had fed and threw a blanket across him, lightly stroking his hair.

She'd left him soon after, leaving four of her minions to stand guard. He was so tired, but he was afraid to go to sleep.

He was trying to keep his eyes open when he heard a soft voice in his mind say

"Go to her." His eyelids drifted closed and he was quickly in a deep sleep.

PART 7

Buffy walked into her room, stripping her clothes off as she made her way to the bed. Naked, she slipped into bed, pulling the duster across her. She closed her eyes, doubting that she would be able to rest. But soon, she was lost in the darkness of sleep.

Continued