Buffy Summers rarely felt naked. 

 

Well, except for when she was literally naked for regular bathing or occasional skinny-dipping, but she rarely felt emotionally naked.

 

And now was one of those infrequent moments. 

 

Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one who was facing down her ex-lover’s glare.  She swore that if she could bottle that expression, she could make millions. 

 

She already knew what the label would read, “Bottled glare.  For use on unreasonable parents, people who talk on cell phones during the crucial scenes at the movies, dentists who clean your teeth too roughly, and ex-boyfriends who catch you in bed with their relative.  Use only as directed.  May want to consult a physician before use due to adverse side effect of marring face permanently and rendering smiles useless.”

 

In a totally inappropriate laugh for the situation, a giggle bubbled forth before she could stop it. 

 

Angel frowned harder.  “What’s so funny, Buffy?” 

 

Buffy eyes fluttered to Spike’s for a moment, and she saw that his visage was a blank slate.  She wondered for the thousandth time what he was thinking.  Her own thoughts flashed to the time Riley had caught them together.  His reaction was quite the opposite from when he’d thrown their “relationship” in Riley’s face. 

 

She also pondered what kind of relationship he’d developed with Angel after working with him for three years.  Was it a good one built on mutual respect and understanding, or was their relationship tainted by past resentments and jealousy?  Based on what she had seen so far, she decided on a mix of the two. 

 

She removed her hand from where it had settled on Spike’s chest upon Angel’s intrusion.  “Nothing,” she replied softly.

 

Angel blazed onward, “Well, while you two were busy snuggling, the boy, whom you rescued, unlatched the door and left.”

 

“What?”  Buffy sat up from where she’d frozen.  The pallet was indeed empty.  “Damn it!” 

 

Rumpled clothing or no, she tugged on her shoes and charged out the door with Spike hot on her heels.  The three searched the hotel grounds, using their enhanced senses to do a thorough scan.  Mary, the woman Angel had found in his closet, followed them like a zombie, probably still in shock from the abuse she’d endured. 

 

After several minutes of finding no trace of the young boy, Buffy gave up and sagged against the side of the building in defeat. 

 

“Buffy,” Angel began, using her real name yet again, “there’s nothing we can do.  He’s gone.  If he’s self-sufficient enough to get out of the room and get this far away without being killed, he’s probably capable of surviving out there.”

 

Buffy looked up with tears in her eyes.  “But for how long?  I mean, he’s a little boy.” 

 

“I don’t know.”  Angel touched her shoulder gently.  “But we can’t linger here too long, or vamps will start asking questions.”  He tilted his head slightly to the left.

 

Buffy spied three vampires lounging in the shadows, staring at them oddly.  Her eyebrows lifted.  “Right.”  Wiping the water away, Buffy fixed her eyes on Spike’s blue ones.  “I guess we better get ready to go into the city.”

 

Angel went to Mary who was hanging a bit apart from them, staring off into the darkness with her arms around her ribcage like she was lost and cold.  She gazed up at Angel with big eyes as he bent to whisper something to her in a voice so low that vampire hearing couldn’t pick it up.  Then, Angel began dragging her roughly toward Buffy and Spike’s room.  Buffy could tell he wasn’t really trying to hurt her, but he had to put on a nice show for their onlookers.

 

Buffy turned to Spike.  Tears consumed her vision for a third time that day.  “It’s all my fault.”

 

  Spike assumed a position next to her as she walked slowly back toward their room.  “If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine as much as yours, pet.”  Buffy waited for him to continue.  “And anyway, I tend to agree with Angel.  We’re stuck in these roles in this environment.  Looks like to some extent, we’ll have to play by the rules here even if it means doing. . . or not doing. . . some things that make us feel uncomfortable.”

 

“I guess.”  Buffy was not used to having to play by anyone else’s rules, and to some extent, neither were Angel and Spike. 

 

Spike echoed her thoughts in a half-growl, “Hopefully, not for very long.”

 

Buffy glimpsed yellow eyes surrounding them.  “Hopefully not.”

 

* * *

 

The city was less remarkable than Buffy imagined it would be.  For the most part, the streets were well lit by streetlamps and were designed to be fairly similar to most large American cities.  On the other hand, she had sort of expected that the streets might be a chaotic mess. . . rather like a city with multiple riots going on at the same time. 

 

The only unusual aspects of the city were the continual darkness, the faint scent of blood that clung like static electricity to the air, the lack of motor vehicles in the streets, and the plethora of vampires that lined the sidewalks.  Some were well dressed; others were not.  Some wore their game faces; others did not.  The well-dressed vamps generally wore their human masks.  But even with the apparent differences in class, their expressions were surprisingly similar.  The determination in their eyes was almost palpable.  Their odd semblance of purpose disconcerted Buffy. 

 

When they passed the first small cluster of vampires, she held her breath and prayed silently that they wouldn’t see her soul, shining out like a beacon.  Fred had reassured them that only the oldest and more experienced vampires would be able to view or sense the souls beneath their disguises. 

 

What else had she said?

 

Oh, yes.  Fred had informed her that to throw the older vampires off, she, Spike, and Angel would merely have to avoid eye contact with them as much as possible and that they’d be able to sense when they were in the presence of someone who might be dangerous to them.

 

Buffy didn’t sense anything out of the group passing them, but she averted her eyes anyway and shivered almost imperceptibly.  She and Spike were in front of Angel and Mary, and she noted that Spike almost protectively moved to the opposite side of her after they passed the vampires. 

 

Annoyance stirred within her, and before she could contain herself, she shot him a look.  She would have put up with such old-fashioned shielding behavior from Riley but not Spike.  She was especially bothered after his casual behavior toward her earlier. . . as if they hadn’t had an intimate talk in the motel room.  Her thoughts and feelings weren’t resolved, and while she was usually good at pushing aside her feelings where a mission was concerned, she was having trouble now.

 

Spike returned her glare but maintained his position as the next group approached. 

 

Buffy bit her lip as they continued to meander through the crowd.  She was highly tempted to lash back at him, and the feeling frightened her for a reason she couldn’t quite put into words.  Her irritation with him increased, and she involuntarily crossed her arms. 

 

He bent to her ear when they reached a spot with few vampires nearby.  In a low tone, he whispered, “It’s the way of things with vamps.  With you walking on the outside, they had every right to pull you away from us and claim you.”

 

Buffy felt a pout coming on.  “And you thought I couldn’t take care of myself?”  She knew her volume was a bit loud, but she didn’t care. 

 

Angel chose that moment to add his two cents, “Spike did the right thing.  We can’t afford to draw too much attention to ourselves.”

 

“Right.  Like we already aren’t drawing too much attention with some human we picked up out of a closet in a motel room and. . .”  She waved a hand at their bodies.  “Our clothes.  Geez.”

 

“What’s wrong with our clothes?” Angel asked unknowingly, glancing down at his leather pants, black shirt and leather duster. 

 

Frowning, Spike glanced at his similarly dressed form and then at the coming group of vamps.  “I think she’s right, mate.  The trend seems to involve more color.”  He forcibly snagged the deep burgundy-colored sleeve of one of the passing vampires who hardly looked surprised and ducked his head toward his chest to avoid Spike’s eyes.  “Tell me where to get new clothes.”

 

Buffy restrained a laugh.  She would never have thought to hear Spike demanding to know where he could find a clothing store.  And he was right.  The vampires did seem to be shying away from black. . . even if the colors were muted. 

 

The other vampires in their captive’s group kept walking, leaving him behind.  Wordlessly, he raised his arm and pointed toward a door across the street.  Nothing marked the door to indicate it sold clothing, but nothing seemed to be well marked around the city. 

 

Spike nodded and released the vampire.  “Thanks,” he muttered gruffly, and the vampire kept moving as if nothing had happened. 

 

“So let’s get some new clothes,” Buffy said brightly.  “Mary definitely needs something new.”  The prospect of new clothes never failed to bring a bounce to her step.  And she led the way across the street. 

 

Angel and Spike trailed behind her with Angel tugging a reluctant Mary by the elbow.  For some reason, she did not want to follow Buffy. 

 

Buffy shoved the door open with authority, and she noted that it was made of metal, not wood, as it thudded heavily against the wall.  Surveying the room with her well-used Slayer instincts, she saw racks and racks of clothing arranged by color.  The shop was small with mirrors on the side walls to make it look larger.  She thought it was ironic that there would be mirrors on the walls given that vampires cast no reflection, but she guessed that what was important was the shop’s display of unexpectedly inoffensive product.  A small table in the back seemed to be the hub of purchasing.  Buffy glimpsed a small row of dressing rooms through the open doorway adjacent to the table. 

 

No vampires were in sight. 

 

“Huh.”  Buffy planted her hands on her hips.  “No one’s around.  Strange.”

 

“No rhyme or reason to a shop run by a vampire, pet,” Spike informed at her side. 

 

“Well, some vampires,” Angel added.  “Some don’t have a clue when it comes to retail.  I wonder why that is.”  His last sentence was sarcastic and not meant to be a question.

 

Buffy hadn’t heard Angel because she had busily moved on to rummaging through the racks of dark green clothing.  She held up a purposefully torn tank top and green denim jeans embroidered with tiny metal rings up and down each leg.  “Think these would bring out my eyes?”  She batted her emerald eyes playfully. 

 

Neither Spike nor Angel smiled. 

 

“Let’s just get something and get out of here,” Spike said as Buffy brought an outfit to Mary, holding it up to the bewildered woman’s body to see if it might fit.

 

“Should we get something of quality?” Buffy asked, hurrying to a rack of female clothing that resembled the type worn by the “upper class” vampires they’d seen.  “We might have more authority that way.”

 

“Good idea,” Angel assented, plunging into the dark blue clothes in search of something that would fit his large stature.

 

Shrugging, Spike joined them, choosing to look at the colors closest to red.  He’d always been partial to red. 

 

Poor Mary hung back with her head bowed.  Suddenly, she lifted it with a sharp intake of air.  Her companions’ heads shot up simultaneously. 

 

There was a new vampire in their midst.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened.

 

Angel scowled, and Spike smirked.

 

“Well, well, well.  Lookie who wandered into my little shop,” Harmony quipped with false honey lacing her tone.  She was dressed in black from head to toe, and she flicked her long blonde ponytail over one shoulder.  “A whole crew of wannabe vampires.”

 

Spike immediately launched into an explanation, smoothly donning a confidence that reminded Buffy of the days when he had no soul and no chip.  “Harm.  Haven’t seen you lately.  You running this little establishment?  Very quaint.”

 

Harmony jabbed a finger at him, poking him in the chest.  Buffy was surprised at her show of self-assurance.  “*You* don’t fool me, mister.  I know all about your little soul. . . and Angel’s obviously.”  She narrowed her eyes at Buffy.  “And you’re still hanging out the *her*?  Honestly, Spike, I would have thought you’d have better taste.” 

 

Moving from in front of Spike, Harmony began circling Buffy, and Buffy felt her muscles tense with the desire to lash out.  “You vamped her?”  She frowned with faint confusion typical of her high school days.  “That doesn’t sound like something you guys would do.”

 

Harmony’s eyes lit on the cowering form of the only human in the room.  “And why have you stolen one of Kooch’s humans?” 

 

“How do you know. . .?” Angel began.

 

Harmony pouted and traced a line over Mary’s cheek so that she shuddered.  “It’s obvious.  Any moron could read that she’s Kooch’s.  Just look at the arrangement of the bite marks on her cheek.”  Then, she whirled on Spike.  “You guys are on some kind of covert mission, aren’t you?”  She nodded at Buffy while keeping her eyes on her ex-lover.  “And I bet that you haven’t vamped her.  I bet it’s some kind of elaborate disguise!” 

 

Harmony lunged at Buffy as if doing so would prove her point.  Spike’s reaction was swift as he flung her back against a fixture of clothing.  “Look.  You really want to take all three of us on?”

 

Rubbing her arm where Spike’s fingers had been, Harmony glowered up at him from where she was leaning against the clothing.  “I *knew* it,” she accused, tears welling in her eyes.  “You’re undercover.  I’m not stupid, you know.  And I’m sure you know that you won’t get away with whatever you’re doing.  Let me guess, you’re here to stop the city from shifting into your dimension.  You *definitely* won’t have any say in that.”

 

Spike played into her desire to show off her knowledge of the vampire city of which they knew little.  “And why not?”

 

“Because you’re dressed like the leading factions and you’re obviously not part of them.  You *can’t* wear black if you’re not a member of the inner core.  And you can’t just cart around a stolen human like it’s yours.  And everyone who knows you would obviously know you have a soul.  And *duh*, everyone knows who Buffy is.”

 

Buffy, Angel, and Spike exchanged knowing looks. 

 

Spike took the reins again, “And you’re wearing black because. . .?”

 

Harmony lifted her chin slightly.  “Because I’m someone *important* here unlike you.” 

 

With a predatory grin, Spike advanced on her.  “And you’re going to help us.”

 

Taken aback, Harmony panicked.  “What?  No, I’m not.”

 

“*Yes,* you are.”  He gripped her arm again. 

 

She jerked away, her bottom lip quivering.  “And why should I?  I have it good here. . . better than I ever had it with you.  I’m dating someone who cares about me.  I have my own shop.  I have access to the best hunting grounds and an unlimited account at the drive through blood bank. . . .”

 

“You’ll help us if you want to live,” Spike said quietly.  “You’ll tell us what we need to know.”

 

Tears flowed over Harmony’s heavily made-up cheeks.  “If you ruin this for me. . . .”

 

“I could tell everyone about a certain poker game. . . .”  Spike remained unsympathetic, and Buffy quelled the empathy she was beginning to feel for Harmony, who was quite obviously still the lost little girl she’d known in high school. 

 

Harmony’s eyes grew to give her a naïve appearance.  “You *wouldn’t*!”

 

Spike had her.  “I *would*.”

 

Buffy gave Angel a confused look, and he shrugged.  Neither of them had heard that story, but it likely wasn’t something very positive for Harmony.

 

Before Harmony could respond with anything more than a glare, the door to the shop slammed ajar.  Two-dozen vampires dressed in black streamed into the store, sending metal fixtures and clothes flying across the room.  Undistracted, the attackers used long knives to slice through cloth and hammers to smash and bend metal. 

 

Harmony attempted to spring forward, but Spike kept a steady hand on her arm.  All they could do was watch as the vagrant vampires set fires in the dressing rooms, and within a handful of seconds, the shop was completely destroyed.  As flames and smoke threatened to advance, the vampires turned to Harmony and her unwitting companions. 

 

The vampire closest to Harmony stepped toward her, brandishing a stake.  Eyes glowing golden to match the yellow bandana above his ridges, he growled, “Consider this a warning from Her Eminence to the one you follow.  Stay out of our business, or next time, you’ll wind up at the end of something wooden.”

 

            The vampires flowed out of the shop as quickly as they entered.  Without the destruction around them, it would have almost been like they had never been present.  Although the fire and smoke continued to grow, they were partially stopped by a wall of mounded clothing.  Whoever they were, they didn’t want Harmony dead.

 

With a soft sob, Harmony collapsed the ground and buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with her cries.

 

            Spike knelt beside her and touched her back gently, and Buffy felt a seed of jealousy spring to life at the gentleness he was showing his ex-lover.  “Who are they?”

 

            Harmony raised her head with a grim visage.  “They’re members of the other faction.  They want to move the city into the light.”

 

            “And whom do you follow?”

 

            “Someone who doesn’t want *that* to happen.”  Harmony wiped her tears away and gazed around her ruined store.  “My shop,” she wailed.  “It was all mine to do as I pleased. . .t-the first time I ever owned anything successful.  And now it’s *ruined!*”

 

Footsteps of multiple vampires resounded on the pavement outside.  Five vampires ran through the door.  Their leader was dressed in black, but the other four were in various colors. 

 

And their leader was Michael.

 

Concern was etched onto his face.  “Harmony, are you all right?”

 

She smiled up at him through her tears, and their exchange caused Spike to rejoin Buffy and Angel.  “Y-yeah.  It was *her* men again.  Why do they keep destroying everything I love?”

 

Michael went to her immediately and drew her close, smoothing her hair with one hand.  Buffy filed that interesting exchange in her mind for later pondering and glanced to see Spike’s decidedly neutral face, watching them intently.  The jealousy in her heart sprouted an extra vine.  “They’re trying to get to us. . . to Stephan.”

 

Harmony’s sobs came louder.  “B-but I worked hard to keep them from doing it this time.  I didn’t even put a sign up.  How did they know where I was?”

 

“I don’t know, baby.”  Michael noticed Angel, Buffy, Spike, and Mary as if for the first time.  He consciously drew back from Harmony.  “Well, look who we have here.”  He smiled, revealing pointed teeth.  “Let’s see if I remember your names. . . .”

 

“Liz, Will, and Andy,” Buffy interjected quickly. 

 

Harmony stared at her with her mouth open and seemed to be trying to decide whether or not to correct her.  Spike shot her a reminder frown, and she directly shut her mouth.

 

Michael laughed.  “Changed your names, I see.  They definitely suit you better.”  Putting his arm around Harmony’s shoulders, he hugged her close.  “Thank you for making sure my girl stayed safe.”

 

“But they. . . ,” Harmony began.

 

Spike interrupted, “Michael, what do you know about pok. . .”

 

Harmony rushed to finish her sentence a different way, “Yes, they did.  They saved me.”

 

Michael glanced uncertainly between Spike and Harmony, knowing that he missed something.  Buffy could tell he knew something was up, and she felt certain that although he was not an old vampire, he had been sired by someone who was.  Power rolled off his body.  They would have to maintain close watch over him.

 

As she surveyed Michael, Buffy sensed Spike’s eyes on her.  She smiled sweetly over her shoulder at him, but his emotions remained invisible to her.

 

“They deserve a reward,” Harmony babbled on, sliding her arm around Michael’s waist. 

 

“Right,” Michael agreed.  “I should get you out of here.  How about we all go somewhere a bit safer?  Maybe get a bite to eat.”  He nodded at Mary who was half hiding behind Angel’s tall form.  “I see you snagged one of Kooch’s.”

 

Angel took the cue to drag Mary up to him.  “Meal on the go.  Kooch shouldn’t leave food lying around like that.”

 

Michael chuckled.  “Agreed.”  He swept his hand toward the open door.  “Shall we?”

 

Clearing her throat, Harmony spoke up, “Shouldn’t they change colors first?”

 

For the first time, Michael was patronizing with her, “Harm.  *Think* about it.  The clothes are ruined.  They’ll be fine until we get somewhere safe.”

 

Ashamed, Harmony ducked her head at the reprimand.

 

Buffy was attuned to Spike’s muscles tightening next to her.  He didn’t like that any other male would treat Harmony with any semblance of disrespect, and Buffy wasn’t sure what to make of that.