Here Is Gone

A BtVS Fan fiction by Terri Botta

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own `em. I just take them out and play with them. No money, no infringement, yadda yadda yadda. I'm poor so don't sue.

Pairings: Buffy/Spike

Summary: Spike gets a chance to do a few things over again.

Rating: PG

Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.

Authors note: Feedback welcome. text in italics denote thoughts. It's not finished and I'm not sure where it's going, but it wanted to come out, so… here it is. We'll see what happens. This'll go

up on my fic page when it's done at http://www.wordsmiths.net/Botta (see more of my fic there now- numerous fandoms, including Buffy). Send feedback to tci100@mail.psu.edu. Note: it's a new

email address!

******

Spike knew he'd been in the cave for a long time. He had flashes of memory, during his lucid times, bits of recollection and consciousness, but he was coming around now. Waking from the nightmare that never seemed to end. He was weak, and starved, and battered.

'Wounds aren't healing too well,' he thought to himself.

Good. The pain meant he was suffering and he deserved to suffer for all he had done, for all the pain he had caused, all the grief… he was evil, a parasite on the Earth. But he had chosen this, fought for it. The soul was to be his reward.

'If so, then why does it hurt so damn much?'

He had known, of course. Known from Angelus' ordeal, what a soul could do to a vampire, but he had hoped, since he had sought the soul willingly, that the Powers would go easy on him. Besides, Angelus had been infinitely more evil and depraved than Spike could ever hope to be. It had been one of fledgling Spike's many failings.

It would seem that he had been wrong, and the Powers hadn't decided to make it easy for him. If anything, they delighted in torturing him with his own memories. He remembered screaming, a never-ending wail that erupted from his throat in an endless howl of grief. He saw the faces of his victims, the crimes he had committed, the atrocities done at his hand.

Pain suffused through his entire being and he opened his mouth to scream again, but only a raw croak came out. He was too weak, too starved. Even drawing breath took supreme effort. There was something very seriously wrong.

'What is happening to me?' he thought to himself.

"You are dying," came the booming voice of the demon who had done this to him.

He was too weak to move, to weak to even lift his head. He barely had the strength to open his eyes and blink owlishly into the darkness.

"Soon you will be nothing but a desiccated corpse. A fitting end to such a pathetic creature."

'But I won. I passed your trials.'

"To pass you have to survive."

'I'm still here. Not giving up.'

A low chuckle rumbled through the cavern. "Feisty one, you are, but there is nothing I can do to help you now. You have been here for months and your wounds are not healing. Accept the inevitable, vampire."

He closed his eyes; he felt the tears building behind the lids but he held them back with all the strength he could muster.

'Send me back then. If I am to die, I want to die at home.'

Another laugh. "You think your demon friend can help you? The one who sent you to me? Or your mortal love? She cares nothing for you. You will not be missed."

'Don’t care. If she stakes me, at least it will be quicker than this.'

"Do you think so?"

'Besides, I need to tell her, before I go, that I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.'

"Do you now?"

'Gotta do it. Gotta make amends. I wish I could go back. Back before all this happened. Do it different.'

"Really?"

The demon's voice had changed. It was still deep and mocking, but now there was an expectant tone to it.

'If I could do it over again. Fix it. Make it better. That'd be good.'

He let out a sigh and it cost him dearly. One of his fingers twitched.

"So, Lurky," he croaked, blood flecking on his lips from his raw throat. "You gonna send me back to SunnyHell, or what?"

Silence.

"Well?" he tried again, his voice barely a whisper. "Get on with it. Haven't got all day."

More silence and he had begun to think that the demon was going to let him just die in the cave, when it spoke again, its voice both mocking and admiring at the same time.

"You are amusing, vampire. And worthy. Granted."

"What do you--"

He didn’t have time to finish his question before there was a flash and a momentary sense of disorientation. Light flooded behind his eyes and he was filled with sudden strength and power. When he returned to his senses he was sitting on top of the sarcophagus in his old crypt, and somewhere, someone was banging loudly. He barely had enough time to register his whereabouts when the door to his crypt burst open and Buffy came storming in. At first he was frozen, certain that she had come to stake him just moments after his soulful return to Sunndydale, but second glance revealed a Buffy he hadn’t seen since before the mess with Glory, since before she died…

"I've got a proposition for you," she announced tersely.

"Buffy?" he said, taking in the long hair, flashing eyes, tight lips.

Stunned, he looked at his hands, whole, unmarred by burns and wounds. He felt his chest and face, examining his body until Buffy punched him.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, grabbing his bleeding nose. "What did you do that for, you bloody bitch?"

Voice steady, full strength, not rasped and raw from countless screams. Its volume surprised him.

"To get your attention, blood breath. You were spacing out on me," came the angry reply.

Spike blinked, still disoriented and confused, then wiped his nose as he looked at her. "Yeah? Well, you got it."

She pulled out a wad of bills and showed them to him. "Riley's sick. It’s some Initiative thing."

He stared at the money, then swiveled his head around to take in the rest of his crypt. Her words triggered his memory; a memory of another time when she had come storming into his crypt, money in hand, asking for help finding Riley.

'But that was almost two years ago…’

"Hey, Earth to Spike! What the hell is wrong with you? Did you drink expired blood or something?" Buffy demanded.

"Riley… ticker's not workin' right," he whispered, eyes meeting hers.

"How did you know that?" she snapped, her eyes widening.

"The Initiative. They used their soldier boys for lab rats. Read about it when I was working with that Adam bloke. You think he might be hiding in the caves."

Buffy gave him a wary look, and he continued, "You want me to look for him."

"That was the plan. We've got a doctor who can help him waiting on the fourth floor of the hospital."

Spike shook his head, still not understanding what was happening, but beginning to piece it all together.

"Even if I do find him, I won’t be able to bring him in. The Chip won’t let me and I can’t defend myself against him," he offered.

"Just find him. I can do the rest," she replied, lowering her eyes at the mention of his chip.

"I find him, leave to tattle on his whereabouts, and he's moved by the time we get back. No go, Slayer, you come with. We'll find him together. Then you can bring him down and I won't get a migraine."

She pursed her lips, then stuffed the bills back into her coat pocket. "Deal. You'll get paid when we find Riley."

He nodded, ignoring her surprised look. "Fair enough, but I need a bit of time. Meet me at the caves in twenty minutes."

"We have to leave now."

"And I don’t track on an empty stomach," he retorted.

She blanched. "Fine, but meet me in ten minutes. It doesn't take you that long to drink a couple of bags of blood."

"Fifteen and not a minute sooner," he bargained, then motioned for her to leave.

She moved to go, then turned around sharply. "Spike, if…"

"If I'm not there, you'll stake me. Yeah yeah. Get goin,' time's a wastin' and I got my dinner to eat. Run along, Slayer, I'll be there in a jif."

It seemed that she might argue, then thought the better of it and stomped out of the crypt. After the door closed behind her, he let out a sigh of relief and looked around. It was definitely his crypt, but before he had redecorated.

'Bastard went an’ did it…'

To confirm his theory, he hopped off the sarcophagus and lifted the lid. Harmony popped out as he expected.

"So? What'd she say about me?"

He really wasn't surprised to see her, even as she lifted herself out of the tomb. While he may have been many things in his un-life, stupid wasn't one of them. It may have taken him a minute or two, but he'd already figured out that the demon had somehow transported him back in time; back into his own body, almost two years in the past. Still, seeing Harmony again caused his soul to twinge.

'Well, that answers that question. Still have the soul. I'd better, after what I went through to get it. There would've been Hell to pay if he'd sent me back without it. Wanker probably saved my life, or unlife for that matter, as well.'

"Nothin' luv. Wasn't you she was after."

Harmony's eyes grew wide and frightened. "Oh! She's not after you, is she? What if something happened to you? Who'll hide me if she stakes you!"

He swallowed his irritation, remembering all too well how she could annoy him, but he had other, more pressing matters to attend to. He put his hand on her arm to calm her.

"Nothin' to worry about, luv. I just gotta go out for a bit. You stay here and be safe, okay?"

"Okay," she tearfully agreed. "Just, be careful."

Her look softened him somewhat. He'd been so cruel to her, so angry with her. He'd used her as Buffy would later use him. She hadn't deserved it.

"I will. Now be a good girl and stay here. Hide if anyone comes by."

She gave him a nod, her eyes watery. "I love you, Blondie Bear."

He managed a smile, then slipped out, mind racing as he headed for the caves. If Soldier Boy was still around that meant all the trouble with Glory had yet to happen, and that meant he could stop it all from ever happening to begin with. It meant that he could protect Dawn and help Buffy… and save Joyce.

"Oh God," he breathed, even as he quickened his pace. Joyce was still alive, and just beginning to get sick if he remembered correctly.

'All the light went out of her eyes when her mum died…'

If he could warn them in advance, keep the blood clot from becoming a problem…

'Joyce would live, and Buffy and the Nibblet wouldn't have to bury their mum. I'd never take Nibblet to see Doc, so he'd never know about 'er bein' the Key…' Glory! Glory was coming, she'd be after Dawn! 'And I'll know her moves. And her weakness.'

He paused, getting his bearings, before setting out again.

'I have to find a way to kill Ben.'

Buffy was waiting for him when he got to the caves. She was stamping her foot and looking at her watch when he joined her.

"I was about to go looking for you," she scowled.

He ignored the barb in deference to reacquainting himself with the layout of the caves.

"I'm here, aren't I? Let's go."

She fell in behind him, looking at him oddly when he stopped to sniff the air.

"Are you okay?" she asked suddenly.

He started and stared at her, shocked by her show of concern. "I'm fine."

"It's just… you're acting all weird and helpful and non-snarky and stuff."

He sniffed the air again, catching the scent he was looking for.

"Just concentrating, luv. This way. C'mon," he commented, heading into a narrow cavern.

"How do you know?"

"Can smell Soldier Boy's cologne. Bloody Aramis. Can't stand the damn stuff."

She fell silent for a while, but he knew she was there, following him, letting him lead. It was amazing how well they worked together when they weren’t sniping at each other. Each was acutely aware of the other’s whereabouts and actions. It was almost comfortable.

‘Maybe now is the time to start changing a few things…’

"So, how’s your mum?" he asked blithely as he sniffed the air again and turned left. The boy wasn’t far away.

"Huh?"

"Your mum, Joyce. Heard she was sickly."

He wasn’t expecting the hand that seized him from behind and slammed him into the cave wall.

"How do you know about my mother?" Buffy growled.

Spike immediately put his hands up in surrender. "Word travels fast in the demon world, especially if the Slayer is involved. I heard that she went to hospital. I just wanted to know how she was doing."

"What do you care?"

"Oi!" he snarked, brushing her hands away, just barely avoiding a chip shock. "I’ll have you know that I like your mum. She’s got balls, and she’s decent, and she’s always a lady, and she’s never treated me like a freak. Forgive me for asking if she was okay."

Buffy looked ashamed for a moment, then answered softly, "I’m sorry. I’m just… It’s hard with Mom and Riley… They don’t really know what’s wrong with her, yet."

Spike gave her an understanding nod. "So, they gonna give her a full going over? Do one of those, what do ya call ‘em? CAT things?"

Buffy looked away and he had to suppress the urge to comfort her. He was fairly certain this Buffy would not take his attentions well.

"I… I dunno."

"Well, they should. Give her a full going over, from top to bottom. Leave no stone unturned. You tell ‘em Slayer. You make sure they do one of those CAT scans, and an MRI too, and don’t take no for an answer."

She gave him an odd look, and for a moment he thought he may have blown his cover by pushing too hard. He cursed silently. He’d never been good at being subtle, or at lying. Neither had been his forte. He was a much more blunt and straightforward kind of vampire.

"I… I will. Thank you, Spike."

He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her a soft smile. "You’re welcome, Slayer. Be sure to tell Joyce I was askin’ after her and that I hope she feels better soon."

He returned his attention to the task at hand. Riley was close, very close.

"I will. Thank you for helping me, Spike."

"Don’t mention it. Can’t have you worryin’ about your mum and Soldier Boy. A worried Slayer is a distracted Slayer." He led the way down another tunnel. "And distracted Slayer is a dead Slayer and a dead Slayer means…" He looked at her and gave her one if his evil grins. ‘Have to make her think I’m still evil and all…’

"I don’t get paid."

He stepped aside, nodding to an opening in the tunnel wall that led to another chamber. "Soldier Boy is in there, and he doesn’t sound too happy."

Buffy blinked at him, then warily moved past him into the cavern. He stayed and waited, trying to ignore their conversation as he mentally ticked off all the things he had already changed. Before, he hadn’t helped her, but had kidnapped the doctor with Harmony’s help and tried to force him remove the chip. Then he had attacked Buffy and tried to kill her before discovering that the surgeon had lied to him.

‘I wonder what helping her instead will mean…’

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as Buffy led a somber-looking Riley from the chamber. The two men met eyes, and Spike saw the growing fear and insecurity that would soon lead the boy to cavorting with vampire whores looking back at him.

‘He knows. He knows even now that he is going to lose her. You poor bastard.’

He straightened, puffing up his chest as he drew his bravado around him, and put out his hand, palm up, his trademark smirk on his face. Buffy frowned at him, then shoved the money into his waiting hand.

"Why thank you, Slayer. As always, a pleasure doing business with you. If you lose your puppy again, please don’t hesitate to look me up," he smoothed, bowing slightly.

"Shut up, Spike," she snapped, guiding Riley past the smug vampire and down the tunnel.

Spike waited a moment, then followed a short distance behind.

"Spikey," Harmony's voice intruded upon his thoughts. "Aren’t you coming to bed?"

He put the journal down as the vampiress glided into the room, dressed in a silk nightie and sheer robe. He gave her a weary glance, mentally shaking his head.

'I have to get her out of here…'

"Not right now, luv. Not tired."

Harmony leaned over his shoulder and nibbled on his ear. "But I need you to keep me warm…"

"We can’t keep each other warm, Harm, we don't have any body heat. We're dead, remember?"

She giggled. "Doesn't mean we can't snuggle and make… other heat."

He took a deep breath and let it out on a count to three.

"Maybe later, luv."

Harmony whined and pouted. "You've done nothing but write in that damn book ever since you got back," she huffed.

"It's important, luv. I told you. I'm making plans."

"Plans to kill the Slayer?" she asked hopefully.

He gave her an evil smile. "You know me too well, pet," he lied.

She grinned and clapped her hands. "Oh! Can I be the one to kill her? Since you can't bite her without getting, y'know, zapped? I'd let you have some too."

Ignoring the revulsion he felt at the idea, he managed to keep his smile. "You’re too good to me."

"Ooo! It'll be so much fun, and after the Slayer is dead, Sunnydale will be, like, ours!"

"That's right, luv. Now you run along to bed and I'll join you later."

Placated, Harmony kissed him and hurried off. "Don’t stay up too late. I still need my Blondie Bear to cuddle."

"Right, luv, be there soon," he answered absently, waiting until she'd gone to bed before picking up the journal again.

He'd been writing for hours, pouring his memory into the stolen blank tome. He had learned much from Dawn during the summer of Buffy's death about what had happened and the events that had occurred during that horrible year. Now he had a general gist of events and a tentative timeline, but he wasn't sure of exactly when things were going to happen. He knew that soon Buffy would cast an unveiling spell that would reveal Dawn's true nature and have her first run-in with Glory. Shortly after, Glory would send the Lei-ach demons after Buffy, and Glinda, afraid that the Scoobies would discover her "demon" would cast her spell of non-seeing. He was of two minds as to what to do about that. He knew he couldn't change things too drastically.

Then would come Joyce's surgery and the Quellar demon. He made a note about that. If he was lucky, he could get the demon before it hurt Joyce, but then he remembered that the Quellar had struck during the day.

'Just have to be in the house again, s'all.'

After that would come the snake demon.

'Be at the Magic Box, take it out before it sees Nibblet.'

From there, he wasn't sure what to do. He knew that he wanted to prevent Buffy from discovering his attraction to her, and thus prevent the whole Buffy-bot fiasco. But that would also mean that Glory would never get him and he would never suffer the Hell Bitch's torture. And while he hadn't really enjoyed getting carved up and beaten to a pulp, his refusal to give Dawn and Buffy away had scored him major points with the Slayer.

'I'll just have to score points with her in other ways…'

His soul stirred and reminded him that love was unselfish and did not act with ulterior motives. His demon growled and stamped it down, but then grudgingly had to admit that the soul was right.

'Can't win Buffy if she thinks I'm only doing it to get in good with her.'

The soul gave a victory cheer and he scowled.

'Shut up, you. No wonder Peaches spent ninety years eating rats, and brooding like a poof. This whole bloody soul thing is like having Jimminy Cricket living in your bloody head!'

Still, at least being back in time had given him something else to focus on aside from all the killing and maiming he had done. While he had come a long way in assimilating his new soul during his convalescence in the African cave, he knew that he still had a great deal further to go before he would be fully reconciled with his new "addition." Concentrating on the task at hand helped him set aside the nightmare that was his bloody past. But he hadn't tried to sleep yet.

'Wonder how Harm would react to a screaming lunatic in her bed.'

Spike waited and watched. He knew that Buffy was going to have her first run-in with Glory very soon and he was torn. He didn’t know if he should help Buffy or stay behind to watch over Joyce and Dawn. He finally came to the conclusion that Glory wasn't going to hurt Buffy, and that Buffy would get vital information about Dawn if he let things be. Decision made, he went to the Summers' house, hoping to get a better idea of where he was in the timeline. He knew Joyce was home from the hospital, and that Buffy was very worried about her. Maybe it was time to do a little more pushing.

When he got to the house, he heard Dawn's yell and almost went haring through the front door. Then he heard Buffy warn Dawn to stay away from her mother, and remembered what Dawn had told him about Buffy's reaction to the unveiling spell. So instead of running to the rescue, he stopped and waited by the tree, smoking a cigarette. A few minutes later, Buffy came out.

"Slayer," he called, catching her attention.

She stopped and looked at him, surprised that he was there, then her mouth hardened into a thin line. "What are you doing here, Spike?"

He put out his cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. "Heard your mum was out of hospital. Came to see how she was doin'."

The line softened a bit and Buffy seemed to deflate. "She's better. She went out."

"Glad to hear it. Did they do one of them CAT scans?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not yet. They're waiting for more test results to come back."

He scowled. "Not good enough, Slayer. You take her back and make 'em do one."

"Oh like, I just drag her back there and beat an orderly until he agrees to do one?" she snapped.

He shrugged. "Might work."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Look, Spike. Thanks for coming by, but I don't have time for this. I gotta go. I'll tell Mom you were asking about her."

"Thanks. Right then, off you go."

They moved to go their separate ways, when he looked up and saw Dawn in the window. She looked stricken and his heart clenched.

'Poor Little Bit.'

"Hey, Slayer!" he called, making her turn around. "Be careful. Lotsa nasties out there. Be on your guard."

Her brow creased at his warning and he paused, trying not to look guilty, but then she straightened and put on her defiant face.

"I can handle myself. Good night, Spike."

He couldn’t help but smile, watching her walk away- head high. This was a Buffy untouched by grief: strong and powerful. This was the Buffy he had wanted to die for. He waited until she was out of sight before turning back to the house and going in. He found Dawn pouring herself a glass of juice in the kitchen.

"Hello, Bite Size," he greeted.

Dawn shrieked and dropped the glass. It shattered all over the floor.

"Oh now look at the mess you've made?" he tsked disapprovingly.

"What are you doing here?! Buffy is so gonna kick your ass when she finds out you came in," Dawn snapped, backing against the counter as he moved past her to get the mop and broom.

"Now, now. No need to get nasty, Bite Size. I just came to see your mum."

He handed her the broom and dustpan so she could sweep up the broken glass. She accepted them warily.

"Mom's not here. She went out."

"I'll just wait for her then."

Dawn swept up the glass and went to empty the dustpan into the trash.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Spike puffed out his chest and smirked, he thumbs hooking into the waistband of his jeans. "Scared of the Big Bad, are you?"

Dawn scoffed. "Oh like really. I know about your chip, Spike."

He deflated a bit, and she gave him a smug smile as she took the mop from him and started cleaning up the spilled juice.

"So you know about my little plastic problem, do you?" he whispered, leaning into her ear and causing her to jump.

Her teenage hand slapped him on the chest, pushing him away. He barely felt it.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, dropping the mop and skittering across the kitchen floor.

He gave her a grin and snagged a potato chip from an open bag. "So, whatchya got to eat in this place, Bite Size, besides you?"

Dawn huffed and opened the snack cabinet. Five minutes later they were both sitting at the counter drinking cocoa and nibbling on junk food.

"Mmm. Ho-ho's. I tell you, the bloke that came up with these things, bloody brilliant he was," Spike sighed, popping one in his mouth.

Dawn giggled and he shot her an irritated glance.

"What?" he said defensively.

"You're just so different from all the other vampires I've met. I mean, you eat food, and you're not all evil and scary…"

"Hey! I am too evil and scary! You take that back!" he demanded, standing up.

His indignant look only made her laugh more and inwardly her laughter warmed him. This was a Dawn who had never lost her mum, her sister or ever suffered. But still, he had an image to preserve.

"No," she refused, still smiling.

"You take it back or I'll… I'll…"

She crossed her arms and waited. "Or you'll…"

He growled and hunched back down on the stool, pretending to sulk. She giggled again and he had a truly evil thought. One even the soul wanted to follow through with.

"Or I'll… smash your Barbie Dreamhouse into little plastic bits," he threatened, a gleam in his eye.

Dawn registered her shock clearly on her face. "You wouldn’t dare!" Then her expression hardened. "Hey, how'd you know I had a Barbie Dreamhouse?"

'Oops. Busted. Quick, think fast.'

"Doesn't every red blooded, American girl have one? Don’t they, like, give the parents a gift certificate for one at birth?" he hedged. He didn’t want her to know that he had seen it in her bedroom one day during the long summer of Buffy's death.

The scowl was back, and he knew he had deflected any more prying questions. "Don’t you touch my Dreamhouse."

He was about to retort something back when the front door opened, and they heard Joyce calling for her daughters. A moment later she entered the kitchen.

"Oh, hello, Spike," Joyce said, surprised to see him.

"Hello, Joyce," he greeted, vacating his stool and ushering her to sit.

"Mom, you’re back real early."

Joyce let out a heavy sigh and sat down. "I know. I called off my big night out on account of my feeling crappy."

Spike was already moving about the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove and pulling out tea. If either Joyce or Dawn wondered how he knew where everything was kept, they didn’t say.

"So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Joyce asked as he set the teacup and bag on the counter along with the sugar.

"Just stopped by to see how you were doing," he answered.

Joyce sighed. "Crappy. I was feeling better earlier, but now…"

"Want more of your pills?" Dawn asked hopefully.

Joyce put a hand to her head and winced. "That might be a good idea, honey. They're upstairs. Would you get them?"

Dawn hurried out as Spike took a good look at the ailing woman.

"You're feeling poorly, Joyce. You should go back to the hospital. Get more tests. Get a CAT scan."

"I'll be fine just as soon as I take more pills."

"'S no good, Joyce. You shouldn't be in this much pain."

He placed both hands on the counter and looked at her, silently forcing her to look at him. Understanding passed between them as adult met adult, and Joyce's façade faded.

"I have to take care of them. They can't be worried about me. Buffy can't be worried about me," she said softly, letting the fear seep into her eyes for him to see.

He nodded then patted her hand as the teakettle went off. "It'll be alright, Mum. I promise."

She gave him a grateful smile and nod as he poured the water into her cup.

"Thank you," she said, and he knew it wasn't just for the tea, but Dawn had just returned with Joyce's medication so he couldn't comment further.

"'S, no problem. Call it payback for the cocoa."

"Here, Mom," Dawn said, handing her mother the bottle of pills.

Joyce kissed her daughter's hair. "Thank you, sweetie."

Spike picked up the cup of tea and motioned towards the door. "Why don't you go sit down on the couch, Mum. 'S more comfortable there."

Joyce reluctantly agreed and let herself be guided to the living room. Dawn helped her get comfortable by arranging the pillows for her while Spike placed her teacup on the cocktail table. Then he sat back and watched the two interact; Dawn fluttering about her mother like a fledgling bird. Contentment seeped into him as he watched them, and he wondered briefly if his body had really died in that African cave and this was now his afterlife. If it was, he wasn't sure if it was heaven or hell. So far, while not all harps and flowers, he couldn't say it wasn't nice. It certainly wasn't hell. Of that he was certain. Unless… unless he couldn't change the outcome and was forced to lose Joyce and Buffy all over again, doomed to constantly try to find the way to save them but never succeeding. Like Sisyphus in Hades. That would truly be Hell.

'And it would show that Satan has a bloody twisted sense of humor.'

He was dwelling on his thoughts when Buffy arrived home. She looked sore and tired, but the sight of her still warmed him and he couldn’t suppress a smile. Both he and Dawn stood as she came in; Dawn to snark at her sister before running upstairs, and him to greet her.

"She's feeling a bit poorly, Slayer," he whispered when she looked askance at him. "Gave her some pills and tea, but she needs to go back to hospital. She needs that CAT scan."

Buffy looked at him, her eyes worried and tired, and nodded. He gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to Joyce.

"I'll be off, Mum. You feel better now, alright. I'll come by to check on you in a day or so."

Joyce gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, Spike."

He smiled back, nodded to Buffy, then left. He wasn't needed and he could tell from Buffy's posture that she was hiding bruises. That meant she'd probably had her first meet-n-greet with Glory and found out that Dawn was the Key. He had to get back to his crypt and plan his next move.

Harmony was sleeping the sleep of the sexually sated, which suited Spike just fine. Wearing her out in bed gave him a couple of hours of nightmare-free, exhausted sleep, and allowed him quiet time when he awoke. She would sleep for another five hours at least, giving him long stretches of time to read and plan.

According to his notes and his memory, Glinda would be casting her spell of non-seeing any day now, and he had to be ready to fight the Lei-ach demons. He thought he would be alright with that. His body was fine physically. It was just his mind that was unstable part of the time. He found that if he kept himself busy with plans and reworking of plans, the weight of his new soul wasn't so heavy. He still worked himself to exhaustion and woke up with a nightmare branded in his mind's eye, but it was getting easier. Or so it seemed. Really, he wasn't sure if he would ever be okay, and he knew he would never be the same, but he supposed his recovery was keyed to how successful his foray into time travel would be.

So far, he had changed a number of events that he remembered, all of them for the good, and he'd taken to circling the Scooby territory like a tethered sentinel, concentrating on Dawn and Joyce. Not being exactly sure of the exact time of events left him edgy, and with a constant sense of eerie deja-vu. Luckily, it looked like he was getting away with his plan. None of the Scoobies seemed to question his actions or find his behavior suspicious. Or if they did, they weren't saying anything.

The one thing he refrained from interfering with at all, was Riley's slow decent into vamp whoredom. No longer Super Soldier, all of Riley's insecurities were coming to the surface, and Buffy's inability to share her fears and weakness with him was starting to wear on him. Spike understood and saw what was happening, but he did not move to stop it. In truth, even with the soul, he didn't care a whit about Riley, and had never forgiven him for his role in the Initiative. Spike still believed that Riley was not the right man for Buffy, and it appeared that his soul was in agreement. Still, he wasn't sure how he would break the news of Riley's transgressions to Buffy this time around.

But Riley was the least of his problems. He still hadn't figured out a way to kill Ben, or if he should even attempt to kill Glory's human host. He knew he couldn't merely ask someone else, like Harmony for instance, to kill the intern. There was too much at risk, and if the attempt failed, then Glory would most certainly come after him. But that left him with the impossible task of killing the human himself, something the chip would not let him do. What he needed was an accomplice who knew and understood exactly what was at stake. The only person he could think of that was even remotely suitable was Giles, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to bring anyone into his confidence just yet.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a waking Harmony.

"Mmmm, come back to bed, baby. I'm cold."

Spike rubbed his tired eyes. Maybe another shag and a couple more hours of sleep would do him good. Putting the journal away in its locked box, he joined Harmony in bed.

"Mmph," she cooed, snuggling up. "You’re always reading and writing in that dumb journal but you never tell me what it is you're planning."

"Sorry, pet," he placated. "Not ready yet. When it is, you'll be the first to know."

"And I'll be the one to kill the Slayer?"

He gave her a grin, but didn’t answer, then kissed her to distract her. As he covered her with his body, he felt her surrender and give in to his attentions.

She left that evening to go shopping and he knew that the day of Glinda's spell had come. He waffled on trying to decide when to head for the magic shop, but in the end decided to leave before Harmony returned so he could be there as the Lei-ach demons were arriving.

He had given some thought to killing them before they even got to the Magic Box, but ruled against it. If the Lei-ach demons had never come to shop, Tara's spell would never have been revealed and her family would have dragged her off with her still thinking she was a demon. If he let things unfold the way they had before, with just some minor modifications, then the outcome would be the same and Tara's family would be sent back home with a flea in their ear.

When he arrived at the Magic Box and Buffy didn't see him come into the training room, he knew that Glinda had already cast her spell. Positioning himself by the training room door, he waited for the Lei-achs to get there. He didn’t have to wait long. Less than ten minutes later, the three demons entered the magic shop and two came into the training room. He hid by the exit so they wouldn’t see him when they entered.

"Buffy! Behind you!" he warned as the demon attacked.

"What the?" Buffy gasped as she was struck by an invisible foe. "Spike!"

"I'm here, Buffy. It's a Lei-ach demon. It's on your left!"

She swung left, her fist hitting the beast and sending it flying, but she still couldn’t see it or Spike.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

"Right here," he answered, standing next to her right shoulder. "You can't see me. Gl--Someone's cast a spell of non-seeing!"

"A what?"

Spike saw the second Lei-ach approaching and prepared to do battle. "A spell of non-seeing. There’s another one here! It's coming at you from the left!"

Buffy took up fighting stance. "Are there any others?"

"One more, in the shop." He leaped and threw himself at the demon. "I’ve got this one. You go help the others!"

He watched until she was out of the training room before turning to his opponent. Lei-ach demons were strong, but not very fast or bright, and Spike easily overpowered it. He killed it with the scythe he grabbed from the wall and then hurried out to help Buffy.

It was at about that time that Tara arrived with her family, realized what was happening and revoked the spell, revealing the tableau of carnage and Buffy finishing off the Lei-ach she was fighting.

"What in gods name is that?" Tara's father demanded after witnessing Buffy snap the demon’s neck.

"Lei-ach demon. Fun little buggers. Big with the marrow sucking," Spike replied, coming out of the training room.

"I don’t understand," Tara’s father said.

"I'm not sure I do either," Buffy commented, looking down at Tara, who was huddled by the counter.

"I'm sorry... I'm s-so sorry..." she was repeating over and over.

Willow approached her, confused and worried.

"I w-was just trying to hide... the spell went wrong..."

"Tara, what..." Willow asked.

"I didn't want you to see... what I am," Tara admitted, trembling.

"What you are?"

"I told you, you try to run from it you'll put these people in danger," Tara’s father said, then motioned to the dead demon. "And, my God…"

"I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

"I think you better explain. What do you mean, what you are?" Buffy demanded calmly.

"Demon," her father answered for her because she couldn’t stop stuttering. "The women in our family have... demon in them. Her mother had it; it's where the magic comes from. This isn't something we generally like to share with strangers. We came to take her home before... well, before things like this started happening."

"Tara, you're not... how could you not say something to me... to me..." Willow asked, stricken and near tears.

Tara looked away, unable to answer. Giles stepped forward. "You put a spell on us to keep us from seeing your demon side. That's why we couldn't see our attackers."

"And nearly got us killed," Buffy pointed out, looking at Dawn.

Tara rose to her feet unsteadily. "I’ll go. I’m very sorry."

"The camper’s outside," her father told her gruffly.

"Wait! Go? She just did a spell that went wrong! Buffy, it was just a mistake!" Willow begged, not wanting to see her lover leave.

"It's not the point and it's not your concern. The girl belongs with us. We know how to control her problem," Tara’s father insisted.

Willow refused to leave it at that. "Tara, look at me. I trusted you more than anyone in
my life. Was all of that a lie?"

"No! No..." Tara firmly denied.

"Do you want to leave?"

"That is not your decision, young lady," Tara’s father said.

"I know that," Willow snapped, then turned to Tara. "Do you want to leave?"

Sniffing, Tara shook her head slightly.

"You are going to do what's right, Tara. Now I am taking you out of here before somebody DOES get killed. The girl belongs with her family, I hope that's clear to the rest of you," her father interrupted.

Buffy looked at Dawn, then at Tara, the wheels turning in her head. Spike watched the lights come on behind her green eyes and had to smile.

"It is. You want her, Mr. Maclay, you can go ahead and take her," Buffy said in her Slayer voice, crossing her arms and facing the man. "You just gotta go through me."

"What?" Tara’s father blurted.

"You heard me. You wanna take Tara out of here against her will, then you gotta come through me," Buffy repeated calmly.

Dawn stepped up to stand beside her sister. "And me."

‘That’s my girls,’ Spike thought, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling with pride. Then he looked over at Tara to see what was happening register on her face. ‘No one’s ever fought for you, eh Glinda? It’s a good feeling innit?’

"Is this a joke? I am not gonna be threatened by two little girls," Tara’s father argued,

"You don't wanna mess with us," Dawn replied, holding her chin high.

"She's a hair-puller," Buffy told him, pointing at her sister.

Giles stepped up, cleaning his glasses and raising his eyes to meet Mr. Maclay’s. "And you're not just dealing with two little girls."

"You're dealing with all of us," Xander added.

Before, Spike had denied caring, but this time he moved to stand by Willow and Tara, arms crossed, the threat in his posture clearly evident. The others gave him shocked looks.

"What?" he snapped defensively. "I don’t kill a Lei-ach demon for just anybody, you know… Well actually… but still, that’s not the point…"

He froze as Tara looked at him with open eyes and a fissure of fear ran up his spine.

‘She knows! She knows I knew about the spell, and that she was the one that cast it.’

For a moment, he was certain that Tara was going to give him away, but then her father’s ranting saved him.

"This is insane! You people have no right to interfere in Tara's affairs. We are her blood kin -- who the hell are you?"

"We're family," Buffy answered as they grouped around Willow and Tara, staring him down.

Mr. Maclay turned away, but Tara’s brother Donny protested.

"Dad, you're not gonna let them…" When he saw his father’s expression, he started towards Tara. "Tara, if you don't get in that car, I swear by God I will beat you down."

Xander puffed out his chest and refused to move out of the way. "And I swear by your full and manly beard you're gonna break something trying."

Spike saw the look in Donny’s eyes and didn’t like it. Without a word, he moved to add his support to Xander.

‘Pillock doesn’t need to know I can’t hit him.’

Donny looked at the two of them and backed down.

"Well, I hope you'll all be happy hanging around with a disgusting demon," Tara’s cousin Beth sneered.

Anya raised her hand, "Excuse me. What kind?"

Beth blinked. "What?"

"What kind of demon is she? There's a lot of different kinds, some are very very evil, while some have been considered to be useful members of society..." Anya explained, giving Xander a loving look.

"Well, I don't... what does it matter?" Beth replied, flustered.

"Evil is evil," Tara’s father insisted.

"Well, let's just narrow it down..." Anya pressed.

‘And here’s my cue…’ Spike mused. ‘Don’t give myself a chip headache for just anybody either.’

"Oh, I get it…" he said, approaching Tara. "Here, why don’t I make this simple."

‘One migraine coming up,’ he cringed to himself as he popped Tara on the nose with a quick jab. The shock blinded him with pain, and he yowled as Tara yelped.

"Hey!" Willow yelled, then her eyes opened wide in understanding. "Hey!"

"He hit my nose," Tara cried, holding her injured face.

"And it hurt! I mean, him!" Willow exclaimed excitedly.

"And that only works with humans..." Buffy announced smugly.

"There's no demon in there," Spike said, shaking off the pain. "That's just the family legend, am I right? Bit of spin to keep the ladies in line? Oh, you're a piece of work. I like you."

"I'm not a demon," Tara sobbed.

"You’re not a demon," Willow affirmed, smiling.

"He hit my nose."

Spike, his hand still on his forehead, muttered, "Yeah, well, you’re welcome."

His voice caught Tara's attention. She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and awe on her face, and he once again got the impression that she was seeing right through him. It was the first time he'd seen Tara since he’d been sent back and he cursed himself for thinking he would be able to fool her. Even as she blinked at him, he saw the wheels turning behind her eyes and knew he had to do something to deflect attention from himself. Thankfully, Giles did it for him by addressing Tara’s father.

"Mr. Maclay, I'd say your business here is finished."

Tara’s father tried one more time. "Tara... for eighteen years your family has taken care of you and supported you, if you wanna turn your back…"

Spike watched as a new expression of pride and self-confidence came across her face and she stood up to her father for the first time in her life. "Dad. Just go."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then they obeyed, sulking out, muttering about magic, until the door closed behind them. Tara breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Willow.

"I’m so sorry," she apologized again.

Willow hugged her. "It’s okay, baby. I understand why you did it."

Spike saw Tara’s eyes meet his over Willow’s shoulder, and she kept looking at him as she left her lover’s embrace. Her gaze bore into him and he was suddenly afraid. He knew if she revealed his secret, he would have to have a clever lie ready to deny her claim, but the young woman surprised him with her empathy and understanding.

"Thank you, Spike, for what you did. I know it caused you pain."

He blinked and looked away. "Well, if I hadn’t then you would have left here thinkin’ you were a demon and I couldn’t have that could I? Bloody imposter you’d be. Give us real demons a bad name."

Tara smiled at him and laughed softly. "Perish the thought," Then more timidly, held out like an olive branch, "We’re headed to the Bronze now. It’s my birthday. Would you like to come?"

Her simple offer left him dumbstruck and he fought the tears that welled in his eyes. He knew she could see the effect her invitation had on him, but she respected his privacy and didn’t call attention to it. Still, it took him a moment to swallow the lump in his throat.

‘She sees me. She really sees me. She’s always seen me…’

It meant more to him than words could say, but he knew if he accepted, things were bound to go wrong.

"I’d love to, pet, but I have other plans. Maybe some other time though."

She nodded and gave him another smile. "Okay."

They fell silent for several moments, none of them quite sure what to say. Spike was the first to speak.

"Well, I’d best be off. Give your mum my best, Slayer. Tell her I’ll be by to see her soon."

"Goodnight, Spike," he heard Buffy say as he sauntered out with a swagger. The saunter was gone as soon as he was out of the shop, however, replaced by slumped shoulders and a sigh of relief.

‘Another thing changed, another day gone.’ Buffy had died on May 22nd. ‘Only 197 more days to go.’

Spike was alone. Harmony had taken to going out more and more as his obsession with his journal infringed upon his attentions toward her. She resented his constant preoccupation, and nightly sex was doing little to placate her. Her absence was both welcome and irritating. At least when she was there, she was a willing partner and he could use her to reach the drop-undead exhaustion he needed in order to sleep, but she would also demand his attention when he was busy, then get angry when he would not stop what he was doing.

What he was doing was grinding his teeth and pacing like a caged animal. Despite his efforts, he had been unsuccessful in convincing Buffy or Joyce to return to the hospital for a CAT scan. He knew that she would go soon when the results from the first barrage of tests came back, but it meant that he'd been throwing himself against that particular wall for nearly three weeks.

He was mentally and physically exhausted and frustrated, and even more convinced that he really was dead and in hell. It seemed that no matter what he tried, he couldn't affect big change, and he was beginning to think that that all his efforts were in vain. He was trapped. He couldn’t tell Buffy and the Scoobies the truth. He couldn’t kill Ben. He couldn't stop Glory from hunting for the Key. He couldn’t even get a woman one-third his age to go to the bloody hospital! It had him seething, chomping at the bit like a high-strung horse, and near to bursting with feelings of helplessness and rage.

It was in this state that Buffy found him when she came storming into his crypt and slammed him against the stone pillar. As his face hit the rough surface, he remembered all too well the last time she had done this and what she had wanted from him. He knew where this was going. She'd come to hear about the Slayers, and planned to pay him for his story of how he defeated them.

He'd been expecting her to show up, planning how he would do things differently, but her assault hurt in more than one way. His new soul disliked pain and his demon had never been terribly fond of it to begin with, so the unwarranted attack upset him. The fact that Buffy still felt it necessary to beat him up whenever she wanted anything from him was also a sore point. He had hoped after three weeks of cooperation and relatively bloodless, painless interaction that Buffy would ease up on her habit of "kick-the-Spike," but it would seem that Buffy had other ideas. He was starting to suspect that she was already using him as her punching bag, an "acceptable" outlet for her anger and frustration, and that he had allowed it without ever really noticing what she was doing.

'I was just so happy that she was there, acknowledging me. Negative attention was better than no attention,' he realized as she ground his cheek into the stone then turned him around.

"To what do I owe these bruises, Slayer?" he asked coolly, looking at her.

Her eyes flashed anger and indignation, but no remorse, no acknowledgement of how abusive she was being.

'She doesn’t see me as anything but a monster, an unfeeling, soul-less monster. To her it doesn't matter if she hurts me because I'm just a demon.'

The thought saddened him, and not merely because he now had a soul, but because he knew how misguided she and the Council of Watchers were about the true nature of demons.

'Maybe I can use tonight's lessons to teach her more than just about the Slayers I killed.'

"Slayers. You killed two of them," she said tightly.

He feigned surprise and concern. "I did."

"You’re gonna show me how."

"I am, am I?" he countered.

She punched him in the face and he yowled in pain, grabbing his nose.

"Yes, you are."

He was bleeding, his soul crying, as he staunched the wound.

'I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice. Tonight's the night she finds out about her mum going back to hospital for, finally, the bloody CAT scan. Only three weeks late!'

"Alright, Slayer, you've convinced me."

"I knew you’d see it my way, besides, there's cash in it for you."

"Joy," he replied without enthusiasm. "Where do you want to begin?"

"Not here. I don’t want to be stuck in this place alone with you for any length of time. We'll go to the Bronze."

His hurting soul allowed the demon more slack on its tether as it reeled from the pain she had dealt it.

"Afraid to be alone with me, eh pet?" he sneered.

"Don’t make me break your jaw, Spike," she threatened, turning to walk out.

Spike followed, swallowing his pain and wounds, his eyes watching the back of her head.

'I love you. I love you and you hurt me. I love you. I hate you. I love you.'

He let her take him to the Bronze and buy him American beer. Once again, she scowled at his attempt at civilized conversation and brought him back to the subject at hand. He, again, demanded wings as part of his payment.

"Just as I thought," he commented, drawing attention to her gasp of pain and reflexive holding of her injured side. "So, what nasty got a piece of you and is it dead yet?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Riley's taking care of it."

"Soldier Boy? Really?"

"What? You don’t think Riley can handle himself?" she demanded, defensive.

He sat back, backpedaling a bit. "I didn't say that. It's just… with him not being Super Soldier anymore… could make a man do things he normally wouldn't do. Make him take risks where he might not have before."

She winced and he knew he'd hit a nerve. "Riley's fine."

"I'm just sayin'… I know what it's like to have all of your power and reason for being taken away from you overnight. Can make a weaker man do some stupid things," he explained reasonably, knowing she would realize that he was questioning Riley’s manhood.

"Have you always been this big of a pain in the ass?"

He gave her an evil smirk. "What can I tell you, baby. I've always been bad."

Spike spun his tale, much the same one he had told her the first time he had done this. He made minor changes here and there, but paused when he caught Buffy frowning at him after his tale of the Chinese Slayer.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, but he knew what she was going to say.

"You got off on it," she accused.

"Well, yeah. And don't tell me you don't get off on killing my kind, that you don't enjoy the victory and the power rush every time you dust one of us, that you don't want to climb Captain Cardboard's tree after a night of heavy slaying."

She moved to protest but he cut her off, seeing the guilty look in her eyes.

"The problem is, you do get off on it. But you've been taught by the bloody Council of Wankers that it's wrong for you to feel this way. That it's dirty. It's not dirty. It's natural. There's plenty of humans out there that get their kicks off pain and violence. Normal humans with souls. You’re not a normal human, pet, and you've got appetites that the normal, mundane population of this miserable town couldn’t even begin to understand or fathom," he countered, moving around the pool table.

She was looking disgusted, but he had her attention, and his demon thrilled as he pressed his advantage.

"That Slayer that went to the dark side, what was her name? Faith? She understood what I'm talkin' about. That brief stint with the body-switching, she was here, teasin' everything with balls, including me. She knew about power and sex and what it does to a Slayer. And she wasn't the only one. You think she was the bad-egg, the anomaly, but the truth of the matter is that she wasn't the off one, you are."

"There is nothing wrong with me!" she snapped angrily.

'Oooh. Hit a nerve, did I?'

"No, there isn't. But there are parts of you, Slayer, that don’t accept what you are, that fight the power and the darkness, yes darkness, in you, and I'm telling you that one day, that will get you killed," he pressed.

Buffy crossed her arms and glared at him. "Oh, and you'll just be dancing and throwing a party when that happens."

The words hit him like a physical blow and he flinched, both his soul and his demon screaming in protest. 'No. I'll be a useless wreck, clinging to a half-grown girl. But if I'm lucky, I won't ever have to find out because I'll either save you or die trying.'

He tried to set up another shot, but his hands were shaking so badly that it veered wide.

"Think about this, Slayer: there's countless numbers of us and only one of you. It only takes one of us to get a lucky shot or catch you on a bad day for it to all be over," he said, leaning on his pool cue and consciously choosing to leave out the 'one good day' line he had uttered before. "But that's why we're here, innit?"

He paused to look at her, then motioned to the table. "It's your move, love."

She took him outside, demanded a blow-by-blow, play-by-play of his fight with the New York Slayer, and he obliged her as he had done before.

"Okay, give it to me," she pressed, and he lunged at her.

She ducked and came up behind him, but this time he was ready for her and swung around. She missed grabbing him and hit the wall, making him laugh.

"What?" she sneered, regaining her composure.

"Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em?"

She gestured for him to continue and the exhilaration began flooding through his body. They were dancing and he'd missed it. Even his soul was excited, moreso because he knew this evening would end differently than it had before. Or so he hoped.

"The question isn't 'how'd I win.' The question is why'd they lose?"

"What's the difference?"

He attacked with the pool cue, stopping just inches from her throat.

"There's a big difference, luv."

Buffy swatted the pool cue right out of his hand and sent it flying without a flinch. He let her.

"How'd you kill the second one?"

He shrugged then said, "Well, it went a bit like this…"

He threw three punches at her head in quick succession, using his vampire strength. Buffy easily moved out of the way.

"That didn't hurt?" she accused, a wary look entering her eyes.

Spike shook his head. "Knew I couldn't touch you. If there's no intent to hurt you, then the chip they shoved up my brain never activates. If, on the other hand..." He vamped out and swung another punch right at her face. Before his fist could connect, however, his chip fired and he reeled off with a howl. Breathing heavily, clutching his forehead, he shook off his demon.

"See, now that hurt."

"Yeah?" She punched him. "That hurt too?"

"Definite pain there," he admitted.

"How'd you kill 'em, Spike?"

He moved for her again, but she grabbed him, flipped him onto his back and straddled him, a stake to his heart. If he'd had a pulse, it would have been pounding, as it was he was breathing heavily, excited and aroused and tortured by the knowledge of what was to come.

"You're not ready to know." 'You’re alive and vibrant and full of joy, and you use me, abuse me and I want to hate you, but I can't. I love you. I love you even though I'm nothing to you. Why can't I hate you!'

"I'm ready," she countered firmly, pressing the stake into his flesh.

'Would she really kill me? Would that be such a bad thing? No, can’t. Gotta stay with her so I can protect Dawn and save Joyce. Okay, once more unto the brink…'

"Okay then. Went like this…"

He flipped Buffy off him, sending her sprawling as he reenacted his fight with the New York Slayer.

"The first one was all business. But the second - now she had a touch of your style," he said, lunging and parrying with her.

"She was cunning, resourceful, and oh, did I mention? Hot. I could have danced all night with that one."

"You think we're dancing?" Buffy countered, avoiding another blow.

Spike came in close to her face. "It's all we've ever done."

He backed away from her, retrieving the pool cue and spinning it as he had once spun the subway car support pole he had ripped out all those years ago,

"Every day you wake up it's the same bloody question what haunts you: Is today the day I die?"

Buffy tried to punch him but she missed and he continued, "...every time the sun rises. And every day you manage to survive, you're only partly relieved because you know - it's just a matter of time."

Using the cue as a quarterstaff, he went after her with enthusiasm, reveling in the rush, the feeling of being free with her.

"Death is on your heels, baby - and, sooner or later, it's going to catch you..."

Buffy kicked out, barely missing his genitals. He rolled, flipping out of her way, to land on his knees. Breathing heavily, he licked his lips, loving the sight of her in full battle mode. Powerful, undefeated, magnificent. She was glorious and he was her fool.

"And some part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and uncertainty - but because you're just a little bit in love with it. Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day."

She came to stand before him and he stayed on his knees looking up at her with an expression of sublime peace.

"Part of you is desperate to know... What's it like? Where does it lead you? So you see, that's the secret. Not the punch she didn't throw or the kick she didn't land. She

simply wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish."

He waited on his knees, waiting to see if she would say anything, and when she merely stared at him, nostrils flaring, he rose to his feet.

"But not you, luv. At least not yet. You still have ties to this world: your mum, your sister, the Scoobies. They’re what keep you fighting," he explained. "See, the Council of Wankers think family and friends’ll distract a Slayer from her duties, so they take the potentials away from their folks and give ‘em to their Watchers to raise. They grow up in isolation, force-fed the Council’s line of rubbish about sacred duty and sacrifice, and by the time they’ve been Slaying for two years, they’re all worn out. They want to die. I just happened to be the one who wore ‘em down enough to give ‘em what they wanted."

Buffy snorted in disgust, but didn’t turn away.

‘Yeah, luv. You might not like what I have to say, but you know I’m tellin’ the truth.’

"They died because they lost the will to fight. They had nothing to fight for. Even the military knows that soldiers who don’t get letters from home are the ones that die, or stop fighting. And, make no mistake, Buffy, you are a soldier, a true warrior, and you think and act like one. Your family and friends, they remind you of why you fight this fight every night. They’re your letters from home."

He looked at her earnestly, noting that she seemed to fold in upon herself, her eyes lost and sad. He stood close to her, but did not touch her. He wanted to, but he knew it was too soon. She wasn’t ready to accept comfort from him just yet.

"The reason you slipped up, Buffy," he said softly, gently. "Is because you’re worried about your mum. She’s got you thinkin’ about her and not on fightin’ the nasties. As soon as everything’s all right again, you’ll be back in fightin’ trim and nothing will get close enough to touch you. But until then, it’s probably best if you don’t patrol alone."

She met his eyes, her expression pained. "I wasn’t alone. Riley was with me."

He nodded, but didn’t comment. He didn’t need to. She was already forming her own conclusions about Riley.

"How is Mum doing anyway? Did you take her to get that CAT scan?" He knew that she hadn’t.

"Not yet. But the medication seems to be working. Her headaches aren’t as bad. I think. She was supposed to get the test results back today, but I haven’t seen her to ask if there was any news."

"Here. Lesson’s over. Why don’t I walk you home and we can both get the news together."

She nodded in agreement and turned for home. Spike fell into step beside her, leaving the pool cue lying in the alley. They walked in silence: Buffy lost in her own thoughts and Spike caught in the dread of already knowing what awaited them when they arrived at the Summers’ house. Still, every so often he’d look at her, drinking in the sight of her as she was in her prime. Loving her, hating her, and pretending that she really didn’t think of him as a disgusting monster, but saw him as a man, as her equal.

‘We could’ve been so good together. If only you’d have let me love you.’

He followed her into the house and waited at the bottom of the stairs while she went up to get her mother. He already knew what she would find up there and steeled himself for it. A minute or two later, a visibly upset Buffy came down the stairs, followed by her mother.

"Buffy?" he questioned, pretending ignorance, even as his soul filled with pain.

Buffy shook her head and walked away. He watched her go out the kitchen door to sit on the back porch.

"Joyce?" he asked, looking at the woman.

"I have to go back into the hospital, Spike. My test results came back today and they want to do a CAT scan and run a few more tests."

"About bloody damn time."

His outburst made her smile softly. "Yes, I know you’ve been telling me to go for weeks. You should be happy now."

"I’d have been happier if they’d done it sooner."

Joyce shrugged. "Well, they’re doing it tomorrow. You’ll have to be happy with that." She motioned towards the kitchen. "Want me to make some cocoa?"

He shook his head. "No, but thank you for offerin.’ I think I’ll go see if your eldest needs anything."

The woman looked at him, her expression pensive, but she didn’t try to stop him as he walked towards the back door. He found Buffy crying on the back steps, just as she had been on that first night when he’d stormed into her yard carrying a loaded rifle, hell bent on killing her, right before he couldn’t stand the sight of her tears and turned into a spineless poofter.

This time around, he had no rifle and no murderous intent, but he did sit next to her and gingerly reached over to pat her on the shoulder comfortingly. She cast him a heartbroken glance, then looked off into the distance. He stayed next to her, a silent supporter, until she was ready to go back into the house.

The following day Spike made his way to the hospital via the sewers. He knew that today was the day Joyce would be diagnosed with the tumor and he wanted to be there. He found Buffy comforting a distraught Dawn but there was no sign of Joyce.

"Hi Spike," Dawn greeted listlessly.

"They take her in?" he asked when Buffy looked up at him.

Buffy nodded, her hand absently stroking Dawn’s hair. "They took her in about twenty minutes ago."

He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead he looked around before settling down on a chair next to Buffy and waited in silence. Half an hour later a nurse appeared at the entrance to the waiting room and called Buffy back to see her mother.

"Stay with Dawn, please?" she asked him, her eyes sad and worried.

Spike nodded and moved into the chair next to Dawn as Buffy followed the nurse. Dawn looked stricken and Spike swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Don’t worry, Nibblet. I’m sure Mum’s just fine," he lied after several tense moments, trying to be cheerful.

Dawn turned to him with reddened eyes. "No she’s not."

Spike seemed put off., his brow creasing. "How do you know?"

"Coz they only wanted Buffy. If Mom was fine, they’d have asked for both of us, but because I’m the little sister…"

Spike tried to deflect her fears. "Now, Bite Size, I’m sure there’s a good reason for why they only wanted Buffy…"

"I’m not a baby, Spike. I can tell when someone is trying to ‘protect’ me. I watch TV y’know. It’s always the youngest who finds out last."

Spike snorted. "Piffle. You want too much TV, Nibblet. TV isn’t real life and real life doesn’t work that way."

"Doesn’t it?

Spike was about to respond when Buffy returned. The look on her face broke his heart.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked timidly.

Buffy sat down on the other side of Dawn and reached out a shaky hand. "Dawnie…"

"Mom’s gonna be okay, right?"

Tears welled in Buffy’s eyes. "We don’t know. The doctors… they found a shadow in Mom’s brain."

"A shadow?" Dawn repeated.

"They don’t know what it is. They’re taking her into surgery to do a biopsy."

"Surgery? Now?"

Buffy nodded.

"Can I… can I see her before…?" Dawn asked.

Buffy nodded again. "I’ll take you back."

As she and Dawn got up, Buffy looked at Spike, an apologetic expression on her face "Spike…"

"I know, Slayer. Family only."

Buffy confirmed it and gave a little shrug.

"Nibblet, tell Mum I’ll be seeing her soon and I’ll make the cocoa."

"I will, Spike," Dawn agreed, and followed her sister down the hall.

Buffy came back a minute later. "I’m going to call the Magic Box, let them know what’s going on."

"Okay."

"You stay here and wait for Dawn, okay?"

"Not a problem. Whatever you need, whatever I can do."

She gave him a soft smile and headed for the payphones. She returned a few minutes later, quiet and pensive, and sat next to him. It was all he could do to keep from putting his arm around her. Dawn joined them as they wheeled Joyce on a stretcher down to the OR. The older woman gave him a small wave and wan smile, which he returned as he watched her go, then the three of them settled in for the long wait. It was hard on Spike because he already knew the outcome and he was never good at waiting. Thankfully the waiting room had a television and he watched soap operas. Dawn fell asleep at some point during the afternoon and he covered her with his duster.

Buffy was staring off into space, Dawn was sleeping and he was watching Passions when Riley entered the waiting room, looking flustered.

"Riley?" Buffy said, surprised to see him.

Spike just sat back and smirked to himself. Since Soldier Boy hadn’t caught him sniffing Buffy’s sweaters that morning, he hadn’t known about Joyce’s tests.

"I just came from the Magic Box. They told me about your mom. Buffy, why didn’t you call me?"

Buffy looked away guiltily. "I didn’t want to worry you until we knew what was going on."

"Well you did worry me. I went by your house this morning and no one was there. I had no idea what was going on…" His voice was steadily rising.

"Oi! Keep it down. Nibblet’s sleepin’ and I’m trying to watch the telly," Spike groused.

Riley glared at him. He sneered back.

"What is he doing here?" the ex-soldier complained.

Buffy rolled her eyes impatiently and Spike silently cheered. "He was there last night when Mom told us about the test results and he asked if I minded if he came. I said no. He and Mom are friends. He cares."

Riley tried to whisper but he didn’t account for vampire hearing. "Buffy, do I have to remind you that Spike is a vampire…"

Buffy cut him off. "I don’t have time for this, Riley. He asked, I said yes. End of discussion."

Riley backed off, hands raised in surrender. Buffy caught sight of Joyce’s doctor scanning the room and rose to her feet. She walked over to him, motioning Riley to stay behind. Spike waited a few beats, then got up, giving Riley a nonchalant shrug.

"Never was good at doin’ what I was told," he quipped and headed over to the other side of the room.

"Do you have results yet?" he heard her ask as he joined them. She cast him a glance but didn’t make him leave.

"Why don't we sit down over–" the doctor said after a pause.

Buffy interrupted him, "No. Excuse me, no, Doctor. Not to be rude, but I don't wanna sit down. I've been doing nothing but sitting down for hours. Just tell me..."

The doctor sighed and gave in. "Your mother has... The term is ‘low- grade glioma.’ It's a brain tumor..."

Spike saw Buffy’s eyes glaze over in shock, then her knees give out. He used his vampire speed to get a chair underneath her before she fell, but then stepped back, giving her space. This was proving to be more difficult for him than he had originally thought, but he had to see it through for Buffy. Still it was so hard not to give himself away, so hard not to reach out. But he couldn’t. He hadn’t been given that right yet.

"The clinical name's Oligo...dendro... glioma. It's in the left hemisphere of the cerebrum. In your mother's case, the tumor seems to have started there. In other words, it hasn't spread

there from another part of the body... which, in a way, is good news..."

The doctor moved to sit across from Buffy, his face compassionate. "I know this is very difficult. And, unfortunately, because of the nature of your mother's illness, things could progress very quickly."

The words snapped Buffy out of her stupor. "Things? What things?"

"Symptoms. There are a fair variety that might present. Loss of vision or appetite, lack of muscle control, mood swings, personality changes…"

"But what can we do?" she asked.

The doctor gave her a gentle smile. "Not much until we determine if the tumor's operable. Which we're working on."

"Well, I... is there something I should be doing? Can I... help?"

The doctor nodded. "Well, there's some literature you might want to look at. If we aren't able to go in surgically, there are a number of new treatments which are very promising. Your mother's prognosis is a lot better today than it would have been only a year ago. Even if the tumor's not operable, she has a real chance."

Buffy, shrewd as ever, replied, "What's ‘a real chance?’"

The doctor hesitated, but Spike’s growl made him answer. "Nearly one in three patients with this condition does just fine."

The words hit Buffy hard and Spike saw her hands start to tremble.

"Now. Let me ask - does your mother's insurance company require copies of MRI and pathology reports?" the doctor was asking.

Never having dealt with such a situation before, Buffy was at a loss. "I’m not… sure."

"Just let me know as soon as possible. And I could use some information regarding your mom's lifestyle and home environment. For instance, does she use a cell phone?"

Buffy was looking overwhelmed and Spike ached to step in, but he didn’t know what to say.

"I think. She uses one of those... She had an ear thing, but..."

"Okay... Is your house near any power lines? Chemical plants? Waste disposal facilities?"

"I don't think so... Maybe."

"Dump’s on the other side of town," Spike commented.

"Well, the more we know..."

"I'm sorry..." Buffy trailed off.

Someone new joined them and Spike turned in time to see Ben touch the doctor on the shoulder and tell him that he was needed in ICU. At the sight of the intern, Spike’s vision went red and he clenched his fists.

‘Kill you. Kill you, I will. You and the Hell Bitch. Not gonna touch my girls.’

The doctor was standing, giving his condolences, but Ben was still there.

‘Bomb your car. Put poison in your drink…’

Ben was explaining that he saw Buffy foundering and had fabricated the story of the page to get rid of the doctor and give her some space. For a moment it looked like he was going to sit down next to Buffy, but one look from Spike made him change his mind.

"Listen," the intern said nervously, casting odd glances at the vampire that was looming protectively and glaring at him. "Your mom's gonna be unconscious for at least another six, seven hours. Why don’t you take a break?"

"A break?" Buffy repeated, stunned.

"I just mean, go out. Get some air. Come back later this evening, talk to the doc then if you want," he backpedaled.

Buffy hesitated and Spike moved in closer, menacing. Ben threw up his hands, good-naturedly.

"My unsolicited advice of the day."

He waved and moved off, stopping when a nurse showed him a chart. Spike never took his eyes off him, not even when Riley approached.

"Buffy..."

Much to Spike’s ire, Buffy hugged Riley, leaning on him for comfort.

"It's bad, Riley."

"I know."

"I've got to do something," she blurted, looking at him.

"Do something?" Riley asked.

"Maybe there's some magic or something -- a healing spell," she offered.

Spike creased his brow and gave a shake of his head. Buffy didn’t see it but Riley did, and for once they agreed on something.

"Healing spell? Buffy... People get sick. I don't think magic can help…"

"That attitude's not helping. I have to try," she snapped.

"Okay," Riley gave in.

Pulling out of his arms, Buffy fought to get her thoughts in order. "I need to talk to Giles. Can you drop Dawn off at school for me? Tell her I'll meet her at the magic shop when she gets out."

"Whatever you need me to do," Riley agreed.

"I’ll meet you at the Magic Box, Slayer. In the meantime, I’ll swing by the Gallery and see if I can’t get some of the insurance info the doc needed," he added, trying to be helpful.

"The Gallery?" Buffy questioned.

"I know the way through the tunnels. I’ll pop up, have a chat with whoever’s in charge when your mum’s not there, maybe make a couple of phone calls, and see what I can find out, alright?" he clarified.

Buffy looked about to cry but she nodded. He nodded back and went to retrieve his coat from across Dawn, waking her in the process.

"Spike?" she murmured sleepily.

"Hey, Sweet Bit. Mum’s out of surgery. Big sis is headed out to get a break while Soldier Boy takes you to school. We’ll meet you at the Magic Box later, after school, okay?"

"What happened with Mom?" the teen asked.

He shook his head and lied. "No news yet, luv. It might be a while."

He stepped back and turned to Buffy as Riley came close. "I’ll see you later, Slayer."

She acknowledged him with a nod and he headed out. He saw Ben at the end of a hallway and stopped to stare for moment.

‘Cut the brake line on your nancyboy car…’

Growling, frustrated, he stalked down to the basement and the tunnel entrances. He swung by the blood bank on the way down and nicked a couple of bags for lunch. What Buffy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

It took Spike close to three hours to make his way to the Magic Box. The woman who Joyce had hired as her assistant had been helpful in providing information about the Gallery employees’ health insurance provider, but she had also been extraordinarily chatty, asking questions about Joyce, Buffy, Dawn and himself while gathering the information Buffy needed for the hospital. By the time he finally extracted himself from the woman, it was late afternoon.

He entered the store from the basement and came into the shop just as Riley was leaving. The ex-soldier gave him a hateful glance before storming out.

"Afternoon all," he greeted.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Giles demanded.

"Told the Slayer I’d meet ‘er here after doin’ a bit of research for her at Mum’s gallery. Docs needed some insurance info that I promised to get for her," he looked around, not seeing Buffy. "Where is she? In the back room pummeling something into the wall?"

"I’m afraid not," Giles admitted, then paused for a moment as if thinking. "Spike, have you heard of any new demons coming into Sunnydale recently? Any very powerful or old ones?"

One of the hardest things he ever had to do in his unlife was lie at that moment. "Can’t say that I have. Why?" he replied nonchalantly, sitting down at the reading table.

The Watcher gave Xander a look, then sighed. "It would seem that a new threat has entered Sunnydale and we’re not sure what we’re dealing with."

"Yeah, Buffy ran into her a few nights back and got the crap beat out of her," Xander added.

Spike struggled to keep his features from giving anything away. "Sounds tough. Have we got a name?"

"Unfortunately, no. Whatever she is, she’s very powerful and about to conjure a cobra demon," Giles admitted.

"Cobra demon?" Spike repeated.

Giles cleaned his glasses. "Yes. I’m afraid I… inadvertently sold her the necessary spell components for a Sobekian transmogrification spell."

Spike gave him a sarcastic salute. "Way to go Rupert, and did you give her a map of the zoo so she’d know right where to go?"

"Sarcasm is not appreciated. In any case, that is where Buffy has gone. She is going to try to stop her from completing the spell."

Spike appeared about to retort something when the phone rang. Giles answered it, speaking sparsely, his face growing more and more concerned until he hung up. Spike knew the call it was from Buffy, but he refrained from revealing that fact.

Giles put the phone back on its receiver and cleaned his glasses.

"That was Buffy."

"I gather she was unsuccessful in stopping her from conjuring that snake demon," Spike said.

"Unfortunately, no she wasn’t."

Spike let his concern show. "Is she alright?"

"She sounded tired and… in pain, but not seriously harmed. She is back at the hospital waiting for Joyce to wake. We’re to keep an eye out for a large animorphed cobra and wait here for Dawn."

"Nibblet should be here soon. School’s out. Maybe one of you ought to go get her."

"She is undoubtedly already on her way here. We are to keep her here, and safe, until Buffy comes for her. We are not to tell her about her mother," Giles informed.

Both Spike and Xander nodded in understanding.

"Snake demon, eh? Any chance it’ll come here?" Spike asked.

"I honestly don’t know."

Spike stood and moved purposefully to the training room. He came back out carrying a large sword and a whetting stone. The others looked at him as he sat down again and began sharpening the blade.

"Spike, what are you doing?" Giles asked, confused.

"I’m getting’ ready to kill me a big snake. What’s it look like?"

The Watcher was non-plussed. "Yes, well…"

"Never met a snake that could live through gettin’ its head chopped off," Spike said, twirling the blade. "An’ this beauty ought to do the job quite nicely."

Neither man had any answer to that so they both went about their business as Spike resumed his sharpening. A short while later, Dawn came in with Willow and Tara.

"Look who we found on the way back from the Expresso Stop?" Willow commented cheerfully.

"Any word on Mom?" Dawn asked Giles hopefully.

Giles looked apologetic. "I’m afraid not. Buffy called a few minutes ago. They expect your mother to wake soon."

Dawn looked excited. "Am I supposed to go to the hospital?"

"No. You’re to stay here and wait for Buffy."

The teen deflated and turned away. "Oh."

"Oi, Nibblet," Spike called, motioning her over and distracting her while Giles updated Willow and Tara on the latest events. "Why don’t you come over here and do your homework? Bis Sis’ll be here soon."

Dawn obeyed, pulling her bookbag off her shoulder and setting it down on the table.

"That’s a big sword."

Spike kept sharpening. "Yeah. Two-handed bastard sword. Not as big as a Scottish Claymore, but pretty hefty. Good for chopping up nasties into bits."

"Ewww."

Spike shrugged and looked down to his work. Dawn sat down at the table and began doing her homework.

Time passed. Spike sharpened the sword. Willow and Tara left to look for the snake demon and returned empty-handed. Giles and Xander did more research, and Dawn tried to do her homework. All of them were nervous and on edge. Finally, sometime after sunset, Buffy made her way slowly into the shop.

"Buffy?" Spike said softly.

Dawn, seeing her sister, got up and ran to her, hugging her tight.

"Is she awake yet?"

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, she's waiting for us."

"Can we take her home now?"

Buffy paused. "We’ll see." She looked at the others. "Any monster reptile sightings?"

"None," Gile replied.

"Tara and I did a mini-patrol earlier, but the big snakie was nowhere in–" Willow added.

Just then, there was a large smash and the cobra demon came crashing through the Magic Shop front window. Buffy moved to face it but it knocked her into some shelves, collapsing them on top of her.

"Buffy!" Spike cried and rushed to her aid as the snake moved in on Dawn.

Dawn screamed.

"Dawn!" Xander cried, trying to go to Dawn’s aid, but the snake demon hissed at him and he froze in place.

‘Bloody thing’s got the snake hypno. ‘S worse than Dru’s thrall,’ Spike thought to himself, moving into action.

He was reaching for the sword when both Dawn and the snake let out ear-piercing shrieks. The sound blasted Spike’s sensitive hearing and he howled in pain, covering his ears.

Buffy was about to charge when the snake suddenly stopped screeching. It then whipped around and streaked out of the shop through the broken front window. Spike, shaking off the pain from the twin shrieks, lunged for the sword.

"Why was the big snake afraid of Dawn?" Willow asked, confused.

"Giles!" Buffy cried, and they met eyes. "It knows."

They mobilized, but Spike was faster. Grabbing the sword, he raced out after the cobra. Using all of his vampiric speed, he ran, duster flying behind him. He saw the cobra make a turn and headed down an adjacent alley to head it off. Buffy and Giles’ pursuit spooked it and it turned in Spike’s direction. He was there, waiting for it, sword held high. The cobra saw him and hissed.

"Sorry, mate. The mojo don’t work on me," he said and struck, lopping the demon’s head neatly off.

Buffy and Giles caught up in time to see it writhe out its final death throes with Spike standing over it. They stopped and stared in shock.

"Told ya, Rupert. Never met a snake that could live through beheading."

"Yes, well, good job, Spike," Giles said, catching his breath.

"Thanks. Now all we need to find out is why the bint conjured it in the first place."

"Glory," Buffy said, still coming down from her panic.

"Glory?" Giles repeated.

"That’s what she called herself. Glory."

"Well, at least we have a name now."

"It’s something I can mention when I’m knocking demons’ heads in looking for information," Spike said.

Giles nodded.

"I have to get back to the hospital. Mom’s waiting for Dawn and me," Buffy noted suddenly.

Spike didn’t want to face Joyce or spend any more time in the hospital. "How about I take care of ol’ scaly here. Bound to be a few bits and pieces that are worth a pretty penny. ‘S not everyday you come across a Sobekian cobra demon. Venom alone would fetch a decent price. I’ll split the take with you, 70-30."

Both Giles and Buffy were too tired and traumatized to argue. "That sounds like a very generous offer, Spike. You do what needs to be done, and I’ll take Dawn and Buffy to the hospital."

"Sounds like a plan, Rupert."

"Thank you."

Giles moved to guide a nearly catatonic Buffy away from the decapitated body of the demon.

"G’night, Slayer. Tell Mum I’ll be in to see her soon."

Buffy looked back, a small smile on her lips. "I will," she whispered. "Thanks, Spike."

He gave her a genuine smile and nodded his head. Giles then came up alongside Buffy and led her gently away. After she was gone, Spike set to processing the Sobek demon. He decided to broker most of it through Anya, and then set up separate accounts for himself, Buffy and Dawn. Even if Joyce survived, his stint over the summer of Buffy’s death taught him that Joyce had been too busy paying for Buffy’s medical bills and damage to the house, to set up investment accounts for her daughters.

‘It’s never too late to start thinkin’ about your future…’

The following night Spike paid Joyce a visit in the hospital. Both Dawn and Buffy were already there, and Joyce was trying to convince her daughters to bring her something else to eat.

‘Ah, lovely hospital food. There was a reason me an’ Dru would never feed on inpatients.’

He grinned to himself and patted the small box of chocolates he’d stashed away in his coat.

"Evenin’ ladies," he greeted, sauntering in.

Dawn beamed at him and he saw the first glimmers of the crush she was beginning to develop. "Hi, Spike."

‘Save a girl from a giant snake, and they just fall all over you. Now if only that’d work on the Slayer…’

"Hello, Spike," Joyce said, a genuine smile on her face.

"Spike," Buffy said. Her voice was neutral but her face was wary.

‘Haven’t quite got me figured out yet, have you, Slayer. I’m just full o’ surprises these days, ain’t I?’

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to pop in. Did I hear you complainin’ about the quality of the food, Mum?"

Joyce looked guilty. "Well, I am used to a higher level of culinary choices…"

Spike grinned and pulled the chocolates out. "Well, I might be able to sweeten the deal a bit for ya."

The woman’s eyes lit up at the sight of the foil wrapped box. "Oooohh, you evil man you…"

Buffy intercepted the contraband gift. "Hey! Hey, no caffeine allowed. Doctors orders," she announced, then gave a little smile that gave her away. "Dawn and I will just have to suffer and eat these for you."

"Hey, no fair. He smuggled those in for me."

"A little lax on the manners training, eh, Joyce?" Spike commented. "You know, in my day, we sent our girls to finishing school. Came back right proper ladies, they did. Never a bad word spoken or a fork out of place."

"This from Mr. Homicidal Killer who’s great love belonged in a loony bin," Buffy snapped, stung.

"Buffy!" Joyce admonished, but Spike swallowed the pain and gave a shrug.

"What can I say? Love is blind. Or rather … Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails," he recited, the words of Corinthians rolling off his tongue like a bittersweet memory.

‘I love you. And I will not fail.’

He stopped and there was a moment of tense silence, then a doctor entered.

"Oh hello, Dr. Kriegel. You've met my girls, Buffy and Dawn," Joyce said.

Dr. Kriegel gave them a smile. "Yes, of course. You two are becoming part of the regular crew around here."

"And this is…" Joyce began, but Spike interrupted, shaking the doctor’s hand.

"William. I’m a friend of the family."

The doctor gave him a weak smile. "Pleased to meet you, William. I’m sure Joyce is glad to have so many visitors."

"Just keeping her company," Buffy explained.

"Good for you. Just be careful you don't wear her out," the doctor warned.

"Don't worry about that. I woke up exhausted, there's really no more exhausted to get," Joyce sighed.

"Well, maybe some good news will help. The bloodwork has come back from the lab and everything seems fine. So, we've gone ahead and scheduled your surgery for the day after tomorrow at ten in the a.m. How does that sound to you?"

Joyce managed a small joke, "I think they have me scheduled for volleyball, but I'll work around it."

Dr. Kreigel smiled at her attempt at humor. "Alright then. Joyce, you take care. Make sure to get some good solid rest. And I mean that."

Joyce’s face fell as the doctor left and she looked forlorn.

"What’s wrong, Mum?" Spike asked.

"The day after tomorrow? I don't know if I can stand to be stuck here for two more days just waiting."

"Waiting? Gimme a break- We've got tons to do," Buffy said.

"Yeah, we've got soap operas to watch and trashy magazines to read ..." Dawn added.

"Can’t miss those, Mum," Spike agreed.

"Ooh, and an adjustable bed to fiddle with. That alone'll keep me going for the next four hours or so," Buffy announced, discovering the controls.

"Now Buffy, I really don't need you to stay here all night. I know you've got patrolling to do."

"Not tonight. Tonight I have Mom taking-care-of to do. Besides, Riley is filling in for me with the others. I'm sure they've got everything under control."

"You left the Scoobies with Soldier Boy?" he blurted, knowing full well that Riley was spending more and more time at Willy’s and the vamp whorehouse.

Buffy looked defensive. "He can handle it, and they know what to do."

"Still, I’ve noticed that the Captain’s been a little off his game lately, lookin’ a little paler than his usual White Bread pasty."

Buffy raised her chin. "Riley’s fine. He’s just having a hard time right now. He’s still recovering from the stuff the Initiative did you him and I’m…" She trailed off.

"All the better reason for me to lend a hand. ‘Sides, I like a spot o’ violence before bedtime."

Impulsively, not thinking and not seeing the shocked looks Buffy and Dawn gave him, he leaned over and kissed Joyce on the cheek.

"Night, Mum. Gotta go. Stuff to kill."

Joyce gave him a tender smile. "Goodnight, Spike."

He gave them an absent wave as he swaggered out. "Ta, luvs. I’ll pop by tomorrow."

He didn’t see Buffy staring after him, a deep frown on her face.

As he thought, Soldier Boy had abandoned the Scoobies in deference for a vamp suck-job, and he came upon Giles, Willow and Xander grossly outmatched by a pair of female vamps. Throwing himself into the fray, he dusted one while Willow scored a lucky shot with the other.

"Good work, Red," he complemented.

Willow gave him a shell-shocked look, but smiled. "Thanks, Spike."

The three humans were breathing heavily. Giles and Xander took quite a few blows and the pain showed on their faces.

"My god, a rough night," Giles gasped.

"Whoa, I did one of 'em! Yay on me! Pretty cool except for the part where I was really terrified and now my knees are all dizzy," Willow said, losing her balance. Spike caught her and steadied her on her feet.

"And Spike got the other," Xander said.

"Good for you, Spike. Now why are you here?" Giles asked, catching his breath.

"Just came from the hospital. Buffy said you were out here with Soldier Boy, so I thought I’d lend a hand. Where *is* Captain Cardboard anyway?" he replied, making a show of looking around.

"Good question," Xander replied, getting to his feet. "Not so much a big success-night for me, but I think I should get points just for showing up."

"Yes, that was disappointing. Things would've been much easier with Riley here."

They began to stumble out of the graveyard. Spike followed closely.

"Oh piffle. Who needs him -- whoops!" Willow scoffed, then tripped on her own feet and nearly fell. Spike caught her again and set her back on her feet.

"Okay, it might have been good if he'd showed," she admitted. "But, hey Spike’s here so it wasn’t like we didn’t have *some* super-strength help."

"I suppose he just forgot," Giles offered.

"Doubt it," Spike said dryly. "Boy’s problem is that he’s a real boy now and not Super Soldier. That kinda thing does somethin’ to a man."

"Yes, well, I’m sure he had a good reason for not being here," Giles covered.

"Yeah," Spike agreed, sighing. "Look, you lot go on home. I’ll finish up here, then head back to my crypt. If I run into Captain Cardboard, I’ll tell him I gave you the night off."

The three gave him blank looks, and he ground his teeth. "Are you all stoned? Go home. You can barely walk as it is. Big Bad’s got it so you kiddies can toddle off to beddie-bye."

Confused but exhausted, they moved to obey. Spike watched them leaving, his face calm and neutral. Giles turned around, a question on his lips.

"Joyce’s surgery’s in a couple of days. Buffy and Dawn are with her. I need to kill something. You go on and get me some info on that Glory bint so the Slayer and I can take her down," he spoke before Giles could speak, then he nodded at the stunned man and stalked off into the graveyard.

Once he was out of sight and earshot, he switched to gameface and began to Hunt. He knew that the space-roach demon would be arriving soon, but he wasn’t quite sure when. It would be some time between now and when Joyce came home from the hospital to wait for her surgery date. He planned to kill it when it tried to hurt Joyce. In the meantime, he was free, free to wreak havoc on the demon population of Sunnydale.

He was worried about Joyce, sick with the knowledge of what was to come, and tortured by the fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop any of it. His soul took a back seat as his demon ran unfettered, and left a trail of carnage in his wake. By the time he stumbled into his crypt, exhausted and battered, he’d killed a dozen vampires and four lesser demons. It was empty, thankfully. Harmony had left the previous evening to hunt and shop in LA, and she wouldn’t be back until…

‘Until Druscilla returns,’ he thought, remembering his sire even as he collapsed into bed. He’d deal with Dru when the time came.

He slept sleep of the exhausted and did not wake until the following evening. When he did, he ate two bags of blood and headed to the hospital. He took the DeSoto, preparing for the possibility that he might drive Joyce and her daughters home. He found Dawn sitting by herself in the hall right outside her mother’s room.

"Hey Nibblet," he said quietly, coming to stand in front of her.

One look at her face when she looked up at him made his unbeating heart ache.

"Spike."

Softening, he crouched down to her level. "What’s wrong, Sweet Bit?"

The teen sniffed back a sob. "It’s Mom… She’s… She says awful things, but she doesn’t know she’s saying them…"

He nodded. "Uglies in the brain make people do and say things they normally wouldn’t."

Dawn bit her lip and looked down. "She wants to come home to wait for the surgery. Buffy’s arranging it now."

Spike looked around, trying to see if the demon he had nicknamed ‘Space Roach’ was around, but he saw no sign of it.

"’S that a good idea, Bit? Hospital’s the safest place for her if somethin’ goes wrong."

Dawn shrugged. "She’s really upset here. I think she’ll feel better waiting at home."

"I suppose that’s true." He stood, looking at the door to Joyce’s room. "Lemme see if I can find out what’s going on."

He knocked lightly on the closed door. A moment later Buffy opened it and peered out.

"Spike?" she said, surprised.

"Hey, Slayer. How’s Mum?"

Buffy cast a glance behind her. "Umm, Dr. Kriegel said she can go home and come back for her surgery. She’s getting dressed while the doctor gets her medications ready."

"Do you need a ride? I have my car tonight," he offered.

Buffy looked taken back and for a moment he thought she might actually take him up on his offer, but then she shook her head.

"We have Mom’s SUV."

"I didn’t know you could drive, Slayer."

"I can’t," she admitted.

"Drivin’ without a license then?" he said with an amused wiggle of his brow. "Decided to walk on the wild side, eh pet?"

Buffy smiled and shook her head. "No. Buffy and cars do not mix."

"Gonna let Mum drive then?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded.

"Is that wise?"

Buffy shrugged. "It’s not that far."

Spike didn’t like it. "I’ll follow you home at least, make sure you get home all right and settled in."

"You don’t have to…"

"Look Slayer, I don’t want to be the one that has to explain to Giles that you, your Mum and Little Sis got wrapped around a tree because I let you put a woman with a brain tumor behind the wheel."

Buffy still looked unconvinced.

"Slayer, what harm is there in my making sure you get home in one piece?" he pressed.

Buffy sighed and relented. "Okay. I guess it’s probably a smart thing to do. Mom’s… not been herself today."

Spike nodded. "Bite Size told me she’d been saying things that weren’t very nice."

Buffy looked away and hugged herself. "Yeah," she agreed faintly.

"How you holdin’ up?" he asked.

"I’m…"

She was cut off by her mother, fully dressed, coming out of the room. "If feels so good to be out of that damn hospital gown." She stopped when she saw Spike. "Spike!"

"Hello, Mum."

"Come to help me escape, have you?"

He gave her a wry smile. "I tried Joyce, even offered to drive the getaway car, but your eldest would have none of it. I have to settle for backup this time ‘round."

Joyce chuckled and pushed past him, heading for the nurse’s station where the doctor was filling out forms. Dawn jumped to her feet and both girls joined their mother at the counter. Spike stood back, but kept an ear out, as Dr. Kriegel gave Buffy instructions. He was looking for Space Roach, but so far still no sign of it. That made him uneasy because he knew from secondhand accounts that the demon was nearby.

"Well, I guess we're all set then. You've got my phone number, pager number ... And here ..." the doctor said, handing Buffy three prescription bottles. "Those are the medications I talked to you about. The sedative and so forth. Pain killers ..."

Buffy looked at the bottles, uncertain. "Right. I remember…"

"If this is going to be too much for you, we can make your mom perfectly comfortable here …"

Spike thought he heard something and whipped around to face the mental ward doors, but there was nothing. Wary, he moved closer to Joyce and the girls, taking up a protective stance. Dawn gave him a confused look, but he waved her concern away.

"No, no. I've got it. And I really appre-" Buffy was saying when her mother suddenly snapped at her harshly.

"You look like your father when he cries."

Buffy blinked and looked wounded, triggering Spike’s protective instincts.

"Hey now Joyce…"

Joyce turned on him, eyes hard and crazed. "You think it will make a difference? It didn’t for Angel. He was still a monster."

Spike froze like a deer in headlights at Joyce’s words.

‘She can see my soul!’ he thought frantically.

"Mom…" Buffy said, tugging at her mother’s sleeve.

Joyce snarled and put herself in front of Buffy. "You’ll never touch my daughter!"

Buffy looked apologetic. "Spike, she’s…"

"I know, Slayer. Dementia. Lived with it with Dru, know all about it and all the nasties it entails."

Buffy gave him a grateful smile, thankful that he understood, then turned to the doctor. "I told you she's been…"

The doctor nodded. "I know," he said, then got Joyce’s attention. "Joyce? Joyce. We're done here. Why don't you take your girls home now?"

Joyce’s eyes focused on him and she slowly returned to herself. He smiled at her reassuringly.

"Yes. Yes, thank you. Thanks for all your help, Doctor," Joyce said after a moment.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," he said.

"Thank you," she told him, then turned to Buffy and Dawn, smiling. "Let's get the hell out of here."

The ride home was nerve-wracking and he couldn’t smoke because Dawn decided to ride home with him. She sat, forlorn and small, in the passenger seat of his DeSoto and didn’t even play with the radio.

"Mum’s gonna be fine, Sweet Bit," he comforted, desperately needing a smoke.

Dawn nodded sadly and examined her fingernails.

"Spike…" she said after a moment.

"Yeah, Bit?" he answered absently, concentrating on following Joyce’s SUV.

"Am I real?"

His stomach bottomed out and he almost jerked the car to a stop. "What?" he said in a panic.

‘Does she know? No, she can’t know. She didn’t find out until Buffy’s birthday when we broke into the Magic Shop…’

"These guys, crazy guys, two of them… both of them said I wasn’t real."

"Well, you said it yourself, they were clear off their rockers," he covered. "What are you doin’ listenin’ to a loonies like that?"

Dawn shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno. It’s just that sometimes…"

"Look, Dawn, you’re 14 and goin’ through a lot of changes. It’s normal for you to be questionin’ yourself, but don’t take it too far." She looked unconvinced. "Do you feel real?" he finally asked.

"Yes. I think…"

"Lemme put it this way, Nibblet, if I didn’t have this chip in my head, you’d be a nummy treat."

"You’d bite me? Really?" She sounded happy about it.

"In a heartbeat."

He gave her a sideglance to see her smiling at him. "What?"

"That’s a compliment coming from you. Thanks, Spike."

He shook his head and focused back on driving.

‘Teenagers.’

Once at the Summer’s house, Spike supported Joyce while Buffy unlocked the door. The woman visibly sighed with relief the moment she crossed the threshold.

"It’s nice to be home," she admitted.

"Nice to know you are home, Mum," Spike said.

"Do you want to get in bed, Mom?" Dawn asked.

"I…"

Buffy turned on the foyer light and Joyce shielded her eyes. "Oh that light. Oh, Buffy no, it's too bright. It's too bright! It's too bright!" she cried, starting to panic.

"Okay, Mom…" Buffy said, hurrying to turn off the light.

"Buffy it hurts, it hurts! It hurts my eyes!"

Buffy looked at a loss, not understanding.

"It’s all the lights, pet. Even the ones in the other rooms. Gotta turn them off. You go ahead and turn off the lights upstairs while I help Mum up and Nibblet turns off the lights down here," Spike told them.

"O… okay…" Buffy agreed, getting flustered.

The girls scattered, hurrying to turn off the lights and Joyce started to calm down. Spike steadied her and took her by the elbow, guiding her to the stairs.

"’S alright Mum, I can see in the dark. I won’t let you stumble," he whispered soothingly.

"Okay."

Slowly, they made their way up the stairs. Buffy met them at the top, offering her hand.

"Here we go. It's okay now."

Together they helped Joyce into her room and Spike let Buffy take it from there. He waited until she came out of the bedroom before setting phase two of his plan in motion.

"Gonna patrol, Slayer. I’ll check in tomorrow and see how things are," he lied.

She gave him a nod and he gave her a smile. Dawn was coming up the stairs as he was going down.

"I’m off to keep SunnyHell safe from my friends, Bit. I’ll see you tomorrow," he quipped, passing her on the stairs.

"Goodnight, Spike. Thanks for your help."

"Nite, Bit."

He detoured through the kitchen and picked up a large knife from the butcher block on the counter. He remembered that Space Roach could be killed by severing its spinal cord, or whatever it had in the place of a spine. Tucking the knife into his duster, he left the house to stand sentry. When Space Roach came crawling, he’d be ready to squash it before it could come anywhere near Joyce or the girls. He did a few sweeps of the block and the neighborhood but no extraterrestrial bugs revealed themselves. He returned to stand sentry, taking his place behind ‘his’ tree, and waited.

The night passed. Spike heard the television playing in the living room. There was a brief commotion a while later that appeared to be Joyce having another fit of dementia, but the girls got her back to bed. Shortly thereafter, Spike heard Buffy in the kitchen. She had turned on the radio and was playing salsa music. Confused, he approached the back door and peered in through the window. There he saw Buffy crying at the sink, water on, music baring to hide her tears. Feeling like an intruder, and not sure of he could keep his presence secret much longer because the urge to comfort her was so strong, he backed off the porch and stood on the edge of the lawn.

A moment later he heard the first scream, followed closely by a second.

It took him a moment to register that it was coming from inside the house, but then he heard another scream. It was Dawn’s scream and he would recognize her voice anywhere. Realization hit him like a brick and he cursed.

‘Damn thing is already in the house!’

No longer worried about Buffy seeing him, he burst into the house.

"Buffy!" he yelled as he raced through the house, headed for the stairs.

"Spike! What?" he heard her say, but he didn’t stop. Dawn’s screams were in his ears and he was insane with panic and rage.

He took the steps three at a time, moving as if the very legions of Hell itself were on his heels, and barreled for Joyce’s bedroom. He found Dawn trying to help a writhing Joyce clear her face of viscous goo.

"Dawn!" he hollered.

"Spike! The bed! It’s under the bed!" Dawn screamed.

Just then the creature skittered out from under the bed, leaping up and crossing over Joyce’s legs. Dawn screamed again and Spike roared. He lunged for the demon, but it leaped up. Spike spun, swinging with his fist and hit its hard shell, slamming it towards the doorway… and into Buffy who’d come running after Spike.

"Buffy!" Dawn yelled.

Buffy ducked, kicking out with one foot, at the creature, but she missed and it skittered down the hall.

"Oh my god. Mom!" she cried, turning and rushing to her mom’s side.

"She’s all right Slayer, but Space Roach is still in the house!" Spike said.

Buffy briefly checked on her mom then nodded. "Dawn, stay here, close the window, lock to door. Don’t come out until I say it’s okay."

Dawn, traumatized, her face streaked with tears, gave a shaky nod.

"Where’d it go?" she demanded of Spike.

"Down the hall," he replied, pulling out the knife.

"Where’d you get that?" Buffy asked, recognizing it as hers.

"Your kitchen," he answered absently, tracking the demon.

Buffy would have questioned him more, but he suddenly took off, leaping down the stairs in a single bound. She tore after him and found him slashing at the beast as it tried to climb the wall. Grabbing the broom, she slammed it down. It shrieked as it fell and spit more goo, striking her in the face. Repulsed, she swiped the mucus off her, but in doing so, turned her back. The creature jumped on her.

"Slayer!" Spike howled.

Buffy was threatened and instinct, already triggered by the threat to Joyce and Dawn, went into overdrive. Roaring, the demon coming forth, Spike grabbed the demon and slammed it against the kitchen wall. It spit goo into his eyes and used his momentary blindness to climb the wall again. He snarled with rage and leaped after it, brandishing the knife in one hand.

With a strike that was powerful enough to slam through the drywall, he skewered the Space Roach and yanked it down, gouging the wall as he did so. The Space Roach screamed and writhed, trying to get away, but it couldn’t use its spit because Spike had it pinned face down. He hacked once, then twice, holding the demon down with his free hand, and sliced through the hard shell, slashing with unfettered fury.

‘Die you bloody piece of shit! You’ll never hurt my girls again!’

The red rage was tempered by Buffy’s hand on his wrist.

"Spike, it’s dead," she said, her eyes wide and shell-shocked.

Coming back to himself, his demon face melting into his human features, he looked down to see that he had hacked the bug to bits. He was breathing hard, the adrenaline rush ebbing from his body, leaving him numb, and dropped the knife from his nerveless fingers. Slowly, he shifted himself away from what was left of the body and slumped back against the counter. Buffy was staring at him in shock, but he shook his head, his eyes closing.

"Go check on Mum and the Bit," he rasped, still breathing hard.

She silently obeyed, and he let himself relax. The kill had been oddly satisfying, the one bloody thing he’d been able to do since he’d been sent back, but he worried that he might have given away too much. He heard Buffy come back downstairs and felt her staring at him, but he couldn’t look at her.

Whatever questions she might have asked him were abruptly cut off, however, when Riley arrived with a team of Commandos. He used the distraction to stumble out, escaping her piercing gaze.

Unfortunately, it was a brief reprieve, and his actions hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he thought.

“I’ve called this Scooby meeting to talk about our favorite blood-sucking pain in the ass, Spike,” Buffy addressed the group in the Magic Box.

She, Tara, Willow, Xander, Anya and Giles were all gathered around the reading table in the shop. The recent events had convinced her that something was up with Spike. With her mom so sick, and the threat of Glory looming over them, she couldn’t take any more strain.

While she would have liked to believe that Spike’s seeming change of heart was genuine, she knew better. Spike was a soulless demon, unable to love and incapable of doing good. His recent behavior opened old wounds earned during her time with Angel, wounds caused by her ill-fated love affair with a demon. She could not repeat her previous mistakes. Joyce and Dawn adored Spike, and he was making progress in winning over her friends, but she couldn’t afford the luxury of forgetting what he was; to do so could mean the death of them all.

So if she could not bring herself to see him as anything other than a serial killer in prison, then she had no choice but to conclude that he had some hidden agenda for being so helpful. With so much a stake: her mom, her sister, her friends, she had no patience for unexpected variables. If the bleached wonder knew something, he was going to give over, even if she had to drag it out of him by his insides.

“I think he knows something that he isn’t telling us. He’s been around an awful lot lately and it seems like he’s been in all the right places at the right times. I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” she continued.

Giles cleaned his glasses, his face pensive. “I will admit that his presence has been rather fortuitous as of late.”

“Exactly. He knew about the space demon, and I’m pretty sure he knew about the snake. We know he knew about the spell of un-seeing Tara cast. He’s been patrolling, hanging around my mom and Dawn, and behaving like a guard dog for the past four weeks, and it’s giving me the creeps. He’s up to something and that can’t be of the good.”

Tara, concerned by the look in Buffy’s eyes and the general looks of wariness on the others, felt compelled to speak up in Spike’s defense. She knew that something had profoundly changed the vampire. His aura was completely different, and she strongly suspected that he had a soul, but she wasn’t sure. She would need Willow’s help to ascertain that, and she knew from Spike’s reaction to her questioning looks that he didn’t want anyone to know. Still, she was certain that his motivations were noble.

“I… I d--don’t think he means us any h--harm,” she stuttered. “I mean, ev--everything he’s done so far has been to help us.”

Buffy and Willow gave her sympathetic looks, and Buffy had to harden her heart at the sight of Tara’s earnest face. She hadn’t known Spike during the time of Angelus, or lived through the terror of those months. Tara couldn’t know Spike’s true evil nature because she’d never seen it.

“Tara, baby, I know you haven’t been with us all that long, but Spike’s plotted against us before,” Willow said gently.

“I know about…about what he d--did with Adam,” she argued, slightly miffed. “What I’m… I’m saying is that I… I don-- don’t think his motivations are evil here.”

“He’s a demon, Tara, his motivations are always evil,” Xander countered.

“B… but he’s helped us before,” she pressed.

“While Spike has been useful in the past, he is still a demon, Tara,” Giles explained. “As a demon, he is not capable of unselfish acts. Every time he has helped us, ultimately it has been revealed that his reasons were self-serving in some manner.”

Tara was convinced they were wrong, but afraid to tell them why. She had seen the look on Spike’s face the night he stood with them against her family. He knew that she could see through his façade and had been afraid. Whatever his secrets, they weren’t hers to reveal and she wasn’t about to break the confidence.

“But… but how can his helping us now be self-serving?”

“His ultimate agenda may yet be revealed,” Giles answered.

“Unless he’s working with Glory,” Buffy said. It was a stretch, but it was possible.

“No!” Tara denied. “I can’t believe that. Everything he’s done has been to help us fight Glory. Even when he was working with Adam and pretending to be working with us, it was obvious that he had ulterior motives.”

Willow, surprised and concerned by her lover’s vehemence, and inclined to trust Tara’s intuition, tried to find a reasonable explanation.

“Maybe he isn’t working with her, but I don’t think we can deny that he knows what’s going on. Maybe he has some kind of inside information.”

Giles nodded. “He does seem to have quite a few contacts in the demon world. Perhaps one of them is feeding him information.”

“Which he is using to help us,” Tara pointed out.

“How ever he knows what he knows, I’m convinced he knows about Dawn, and about Glory,” Buffy interrupted. “I also think he knew about Mom.”

“You did say that he was awfully vehement about taking your mother back to the hospital for a CAT scan,” Giles noted.

Buffy nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “I think he knew about the tumor.”

“And kept trying to get her back to the doctor,” Tara insisted.

The others gave her impatient looks and she wilted in upon herself, feeling rejected and outcast.

“I think he may know what is going to happen, and we need to find out what he knows,” Buffy declared, an angry glint in her eye. She’d had enough. There was no room in her heart for doubts or sympathy for the undead. Too much was on the line. Her mom and sister’s lives were at stake, and she wasn’t going to let them down.

“And how he knows it,” Anya piped in.

“Exactly,” Buffy agreed.

Willow, seeing Tara’s hurt look, tried to placate her. “We… we could do a spell. A… a truth spell, to see what he knows. That way he can’t lie to us.”

Buffy nodded. “I’ve asked him to come here tonight. He should be arriving any time now.”

Willow moved to stand. “D… do you want us to get the spell ready?”

Buffy shook her head. “Not yet. I want to see what I can get out of him without the spell. Then we can compare the two stories we get and try to figure out the truth.”

“How do you intend to get him to talk to you?” Giles questioned.

A knowing smirk came to Buffy’s face and she clenched one of her fists. “How else? Demons respond very well to pain.”

“But Buffy, Spike can’t fight back,” Tara said, concerned. She had seen Buffy use violence to vent her frustration and feared for Spike if he fell into the grieving Slayer’s sights.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt him too much. He still has to be able to talk.”

She had no qualms about beating information out of Spike. She’d done it many times before. But lately he’d looked so… wounded when she hurt him. Her heart twinged, but she pushed it aside. Soulless demons couldn’t feel, so it didn’t matter if what she did to him caused him pain. The very fact that she was having such thoughts made her angry; angry at herself and angry at Spike for making her doubt everything she’d ever been taught.

It looked like Tara was going to protest, but the door opened and the subject of their conversation entered. He walked briskly over to them, all business and concern, and her heart ached for him.

“All right. I’m here,” Spike said. “What’s the news?”

“In the training room. I need to talk to you,” Buffy answered.

Without hesitation, Spike nodded and headed for the back room. Tara didn’t like the look in Buffy’s eyes as she watched him go. Then the Slayer turned to her and Willow and gave them a knowing nod. Tara swallowed the lump in her throat as she and Willow rose to prepare for the truth spell.

She flinched when she heard the closing of the training room door.

Okay, Slayer," Spike said, taking off his coat and turning to face Buffy as she joined him the training room and closed the door. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

The blow came from nowhere and knocked him straight across the floor. The duster fell from his hand, landing in a crumpled heap.

"Buffy? What the?" he tried, struggling to catch his breath and sit up, but her foot slammed him back down and pinned his chest to the floor.

"What do you know?" she demanded.

"What?" He was shocked, confused and cut to the quick that she had hit him, again, after he had been so good and helpful.

"I know you know about Glory. You’re gonna tell me what, how and when."

His stubborn streak kicked in and he gritted his teeth, growling. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Her face hardened, eyes two glittering flints of glass. "Wrong answer."

She kicked him, snapping his head back and breaking his nose. Blood flowed freely down his face, but the pain went deeper than that, into his soul.

"Let’s try this again. How do you know Glory and what do you know about her?"

He tried to defend himself against the next blow, but the chip fired when he raised his arm against her. He screamed as the pain hit from the chip and her kick.

"Poor Spikey. It’s your own fault. Just tell me what I want to know," she taunted.

He glared at her, nearly blind with pain and set his jaw defiantly. "Sod off, bitch."

She tsked and shook her head. "I see you’re going to make me get nasty with you. Oh well. I tried to be nice. Gonna have to sweep the floor with you," she sing-songed, her eyes glittering. "And if I break your back again, oh well. Bonus."

She kicked him in the stomach and he howled, but refused to give in. Instead he curled in on himself, retreating into his mind the way he had whenever Angelus beat him. Every blow she dealt made his soul shrivel and he came to an awful realization.

‘She’s always been this way. It wasn’t because she came back from the dead. She’s always enjoyed causing demons pain. It’s retribution for destroying her normal life. She’s scared and hurting. Her Mum’s sick, her sister isn’t real, she’s got a Hell God on her heels… She’s at the end of her rope. And she’s taking it out on me. She’s always taken it out on us, just like I go out and kill when I’m feeling poorly.’

His head spun as she grabbed him and threw him across the room. Not from the blows that rained rage and retribution upon him, but from the realization of the futility of it all. No matter what he did, he would never be able to convince her that he had changed, not if he didn’t tell her about the soul, and even then, she would believe that it was the soul that made him good. She had been force-fed the belief that only those with souls could be noble and fight the good fight, and she clung to it even when she had numerous examples that proved the opposite was true. She clung to it with the desperation of a zealot who sees his entire belief system crumbling around him like a house of cards.

‘She clings to it because she needs to believe it, because if demons can love, then it means Angel could have loved her without the soul, but he didn’t. She doesn’t understand that he *did* love her. That was why he hated her so much. And she hates herself for loving him, for falling for a demon, because it made her a bad girl. She’s the Slayer, she’s supposed to be a Warrior of Light, but she’s done dark things and she liked them.’

"Tell me what I want to know! What do you know about Glory? What do you know about my mother? Why are you trying to get in good with her, and with me!?"

‘And she knows it. She knows she’s got darkness inside her, that she’s attracted to it. Attracted to me…’ The thought brought all new epiphanies to him. ‘She’s already attracted to me and she hates it, hates me for it. She wants to see me evil, defeated, because then she’s vindicated. She’s punishing me for how she feels. It’s not about me.’

His wrist broke and several ribs cracked as she smashed him against the vault horse, screaming at him. He raised his eyes to her and part of him died all over again.

‘Nothing, nothing I can do will make any difference. I’ll never be anything but a soulless evil thing to you. Why did I ever hope I could make amends?’

"What do you know about my mother?!" she seethed.

He managed a crooked smile before she bashed his face and sent him crashing to the hard floor again. He didn’t even try to fight.

‘Go ahead, girly. Do your worst. I’ve been tortured by blokes much better than you and they couldn’t break me. I’ve survived a Hell God and my own Grand-sire. Your little tantrum’s nothing compared to them. There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done, except stake me, and at this point I don’t give a damn if you do.’

He heard her still screaming, felt her land more blows, but he was losing consciousness and everything seemed so far away. He let himself fall into despair. He was there, quiet in his pain, both physical and emotional, when he heard the training room door open and several gasps.

"Oh dear God," Giles’ voice breathed.

Then Buffy’s incoherent blows ceased and hurried footsteps made their way to his side. He recognized Tara and Willow’s scents before they even reached him. Both of his eyes were swollen shut so he had to rely on his sharp hearing to tell him what was going on.

"Spike… oh God. Willow, he’s covered in blood…" Tara’s voice said, hitching on choked breaths.

"There’s a first aid kit by the wall. I’ll get it," the witch announced and he heard her leave his side.

Somewhere nearby Xander and Giles were talking quietly as Buffy sobbed.

"He… he wouldn’t tell me… and I…" he heard her admit, her voice thick and trembling.

Giles then asked Xander to take her out of the training room. Shortly thereafter, he heard the Watcher join Tara.

"He’s… he’s all broken, Mr. Giles."

"Yes, I can see that, Tara. However, since he is not dust we can assume that he is still with us."

"Barely," he managed to croak through bloodied lips.

Willow returned with the first aid kit. He heard her open it and spill out the contents.

"Willow, I doubt that will be helpful. Spike’s injuries are too extensive," Giles said.

"We could do a healing spell," Tara offered.

"Won’t work, Glinda," he whispered. "No living flesh…"

"A… a pain spell then," Willow amended.

He gave a slight nod. "Might work."

"O… okay. I’ll get the stuff," Willow agreed and he heard her leave.

There was silence for a short time, and he concentrated on quelling the pain and listening to the breathing of the two mortals next to him. Tara was crying softly, he could smell the salt of her tears.

"Don’t cry, Glinda," he told her faintly. "Ol’ Spike’ll be fine. Takes more than a Slayer’s temper-tantrum ta do me in."

He heard her laugh softly. "You… you called me Glinda."

"’S what you are, innit? The good witch."

She didn’t reply as Willow came back in. He heard the jingling of the spell components and a second set of footsteps.

"Oh man, you are so trashed," Xander’s voice said. "G-man, is he gonna be okay?"

"Yes, I do believe so," Giles replied. "Where is Buffy?"

"Sitting at the table. Anya’s with her. She… she looks pretty sick."

"Yes, well, I’ll get to her in a minute. For now, I have other matters to deal with," Giles answered tersely, and Spike was certain he detected a note of disapproval in his voice.

"Do you need my help?"

"Not yet. Willow and Tara are going to cast a pain-blocking spell so we can set his bones and move him. I’ll need your help carrying him."

"We’re almost ready, Giles," Willow announced.

Spike heard Xander come close. "Geeze, man, why didn’t you just tell her what she wanted to know?"

‘Bitch can fuck off,’ he thought to himself, but answered, "Don’t respond well… to pain."

The witches cast their spell. He could feel the fine powder they had prepared sprinkling down on his face. As soon as they finished their incantation the pain eased considerably and he relaxed.

"Is that better?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. Made it tolerable. Thanks, ducks."

"Here, help me arrange his limbs. We need to set the broken bones before they start to heal," Giles said.

Spike felt several pairs of hands on him, realigning and straightening his bones, and he was touched by their gentleness with him. ‘Maybe I do have a chance with them after all.’

"Spike, do you have full feeling throughout your entire body?" the Watcher asked.

"If you’re askin’ if she broke my back, Rupert, the answer’s no."

"Well, thank God for small favors. At least you aren’t looking at an extended recovery time."

"A week at least," he predicted.

"Xander, bring my car around back. We’ll take him out the alley door," Giles decided.

Spike heard Xander give a grunt of agreement and the jingle of keys as Giles passed them over.

"Will he be okay in his crypt?" Willow asked worriedly.

"We’re not taking him there," Giles responded.

"Oh? You’re not?" he said, confused.

"No, as much as I hate to admit it, you would be too vulnerable there. No, I’m afraid I have no choice but to bring you to my place during your… convalescence," the Watcher replied, then gave orders to the two witches. "There’s a set of tent poles and a canvas in the basement. We can make a stretcher out of it to move him more easily. Would you get it for me, please?"

"Right away, Giles," Willow agreed and Spike listened to them leave. He was getting tired, struggling to stay conscious now that the pain had eased, but there was one more thing left to do.

He waited until he knew they were out of earshot before addressing Giles.

"Her scent," he admitted, even though it was a lie- well, not really, he *had* smelled something wrong with Joyce, but before he hadn’t spent enough time with her to pick up on it..

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joyce’s scent. ‘S how I knew. Big bad predator. Could smell the sickness on her."

Giles was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Yes… yes of course." His voice was tired, defeated, as if he felt he should have discerned that for himself and was angry that he didn’t. "Rest now. You need to conserve your energy."

"Mind if I pass out, Rupes?"

"No. No not at all. It would probably be best if you were unconscious while we move you."

"Yeah, coz I’m feelin’ just a bit knackered."

"I can’t imagine why," Giles responded dryly.

"I can’t either," he breathed softly, the darkness coming up to take him. "Hey Rupert?"

"Yes?"

"Don’t forget my coat. Dropped it somewhere when she hit me."

"I’ll be sure to get it."

"Thanks."

It was the last thing he said before he fainted.

Spike slept for the better part of the next two days, only regaining consciousness to drink blood that had been prepared for him. The wiccas’ spell lasted almost twenty-four hours before wearing off. By that time vampire healing had kicked in and most of his bones had set. His other wounds, however, the ones no one could see, they still ached and his soul was still in shock. It would be weeks before it came out of its shell. In the meantime, his demon, much better at handling pain, was seething and angry at the treatment that had been visited upon it.

Giles came and went, as did most of the Scoobies, but Buffy was strangely absent from the visitor’s list. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that, and in truth he was very conflicted. Giles had alluded to Buffy’s deep remorse for beating him to a pulp, but no one had come out and actually said that she was sorry. He felt that if Buffy’s guilt was truly genuine, then the Slayer would have made some attempt to make amends, but so far he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her, not even a message sent through another member of the group.

He knew Joyce had gone back into the hospital for her surgery and was crushed that he had missed it. Dawn and Joyce actually treated him like a man, and even if he had decided to give up on Buffy, he had no intention on giving up on the rest of his girls, or abandoning his plan. He took comfort, however, in knowing that the woman came through the surgery fine and was expected to make a full recovery. Knowing in advance that Joyce would die of a blood clot gave him some options. After thinking about it, he decided that the best course of action was to convince Joyce to go on blood thinners as soon as possible.

Of all the Scoobies, Tara was the most solicitous, but her attentions made him uncomfortable because she always looked at him with those all-knowing eyes. She would cast him questioning glances and make leading comments, and he was hard pressed to relax around her because he was afraid of slipping up. The girl was too observant and too smart. One wrong comment on his part and he would give everything away. As it was, he was certain that she was onto him.

Giles seemed perplexed by him as well, and Spike wondered if he wasn’t being enough of a pain in the ass. The Watcher kept giving him odd looks, perhaps comparing this visit against the last time he had been a guest in the Watcher’s house. The notion irritated Spike, not only because his soul berated him for wanting to be a poor houseguest, but also because he felt that he deserved to be quiet and withdrawn after his ordeal.

‘Next thing you know, he’ll be busting my chops for not being evil enough.’

The Watcher was particularly disturbed by Spike’s nightmares, and he was terrified that he’d said something revealing during one of his dreams. Giles hadn’t said anything, and he’d explained it off as post-traumatic stress from being beaten to within an inch of his un-life, but he could see the doubts in the human’s eyes; questions that swam just beneath the surface, and he knew he had to get out of there. Besides, the wheel was still turning, and there were things he had to do if he wanted to protect Dawn and Buffy. He decided to leave as soon as he could fight again.

On the third day he fell asleep on the couch and woke up sitting upright. An experimental tug of his arms revealed that he was chained to one of Giles’ dining room chairs.

‘Oh goody. Bloody deja-vu.’

He opened his eyes and raised his head to see Giles sitting on the couch, facing him. The Watcher was watching him quietly, his face pensive and sad.

"Oi, Rupert. What’s this all about then?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

Giles sighed, swallowed and took a deep breath. "While I don’t support or condone what Buffy did to you, I do share her sentiment that you are not being entirely forthcoming with us. It’s been three days since the… incident in the training room and I felt that you were sufficiently along in your healing to answer a few questions."

Spike swallowed and set his jaw, inwardly trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them.

"I don’t suppose that you feel up to answering truthfully of your own free will?"

He didn’t answer, but raised his chin and straightened his shoulders defiantly. Giles sighed and looked away, to a book and bag on the sofa next to him.

"I thought not."

Giles reached for the book and bag, and Spike knew with frightening clarity what the man intended to do.

"I’m afraid you have left me no choice but to cast a truth spell on you and force you to answer. These are dangerous times we are in and we need to know what you know."

"I’m not working against you, Rupert. Leave it at that," he tried, a note of warning and desperation creeping into his voice.

Giles opened the book to a pre-marked page and removed the spell components from the bag. "I’m afraid I can’t accept that from you, Spike. Your history and very nature lend you to dishonesty."

His mouth went dry and he tugged at the chains. "Believe me, Watcher, you don’t want to do this."

"I’m quite sure I don’t, however, you’ve left me no choice."

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as Giles cast the spell. He felt the magic move into him, tingling through his borrowed blood, and he fought to hold back tears. He heard Giles set up a tape recorder and set it running.

"Let us begin with your name. Who are you?" Giles asked.

Spike tried to fight the compulsion, but his mouth opened and words came out. "Spike. William the Bloody, Scourge of Europe, Slayer of Slayers."

"Why are you here?"

He bit his tongue but it made no difference. "To fix it," his mouth betrayed.

There was a pause, then Giles asked tentatively, "To fix what?"

"What happened."

"You mean what happened with Glory?"

"Yes."

His hands clenched and unclenched. He felt the shackles digging into his wrists. His mouth was full of his blood from biting the inside of his cheek, but it was a losing battle. The spell was too strong and he was too weak.

"You know what she is planning?"

"Yes," he replied, beginning to rock and sweat from the strain.

"You have an informant in the demon underground?"

"No."

"Are you working with Glory?"

"NO!" he roared, his demon coming forth. "Never! I would never help that Hell Bitch!"

"And yet you have knowledge of her plans. How do you know this?"

He shook off the demon and set his jaw, fighting the compulsion. He started to shake.

‘No, no, no. I will not answer. Dru said daises always die. They die, they die, they die. Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch…’

"How do you know this?" Giles demanded forcefully.

Spike bared his teeth and howled, trying to rip his arms free of the chains.

"How do you know this? William the Bloody, answer the question!" Giles ordered, pulling on the magical line of compulsion.

"Because I saw it!" the reply tore out of him, shredding his efforts to contain himself.

"You have knowledge of future events?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He snarled and growled, writhing on the chair, but he was unable to break the shackles and he realized that the Truth spell was also a spell of Binding. "You’ve Bound me, you bastard."

Giles was relentless. "It will wear off in a few hours. Answer the question. How do you know of future events?"

"Because I was there! I lived it!"

The answer broke him and he slumped back in the chair, his head bowed. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"You lived it? How?"

He gave the man a hateful glare, breathing hard. "How do you think?"

Giles looked at him, stunned, then the shock of realization came over the man’s face. "You’ve come back in time?"

"Yes."

"How far?"

"Two years."

"How?"

"Demon. In Africa."

"Why?"

"Because I wished it."

"Why?"

"Because I have to make amends."

"Why? Did you betray Dawn to Glory?"

"NO!"

"Why do you need to make amends?"

He was crying freely now, the tears running down his cheeks as he fought the pain and memory. "Because I hurt her."

"Who?"

"Buffy. And I wished to make it better, to do it different so none of it would ever have happened. I didn’t say when or how far, and the demon sent me back here. I thought it was so I could make all of it better, stop Glory before… before…"

Giles stopped and both men stared at each other, breathing hard, then Giles spoke softly, "Something truly horrible is going to happen, isn’t it?"

Spike nodded. "Yes."

"Buffy dies trying to save Dawn."

He gave a hysterical laugh that broke into a sob. "Oh Rupert, that’s only the beginning."

Over the next several hours Giles dragged the story out of him, ripping it out with endless questions until Spike finally gave over, too exhausted and raw to fight any longer. The details of events came out in all their sordid glory, and a few times Giles had to stop to get a stiff drink. Spike asked for some bourbon himself, but Giles refused on the account that it would mean him having to unchain Spike before the interrogation was over.

As the session wore down, Giles took another swig from the bottle and swallowed it down shakily.

"So, after you tried to… to rape Buffy, you left Sunnydale."

"Yeah. Heard about a demon shaman over on the Dark Continent. Granted wishes if you passed his tests."

"You passed, and wished to go back in time."

"Not exactly."

"You didn’t pass?"

"Oh I passed alright. If I hadn’t, I’d be a pile of dust, although there are times when I think I am and this is just some twisted version of Hell."

"I assure you that this is not Hell, unless of course, we’re in it together."

"Seen any demons with horns and pitchforks lately?"

"Can’t say that I have, and I will not be distracted. You haven’t answered my question."

"What question is that?"

"If you didn’t wish to come back in time, what did you wish for?"

Spike gave a deep sigh and looked away. "My soul."

"Excuse me, did I just hear you say you wished for a soul?" Giles blurted.

"Yeah."

"You asked the demon to curse you?"

Spike's head shot up and his eyes flashed. "Hell no. I *earned* this. Passed that bloody pillock's trials fair and square. The soul was my reward."

"So it's permanent?"

"Damn straight it's permanent! Didn’t let a legion of scarabs play Pac-man with my insides just to lose it on my first happy."

Giles took another drink. "Yes, well, thank you for the visual."

"No problem. Damn beetles pinch by the way."

"I'm sure they do. So, you have a soul."

Spike frowned. "Yeah. I'm all soulful. Just call me Peaches Junior."

"On the contrary. Angelus was cursed with his soul against his will. You, on the other hand, sought it out and accepted it willingly. That's quite remarkable for a demon we have believed to be incapable of higher motivations and emotions."

Spike growled angrily. "See, now that's where you’re wrong. Demons *can* feel, we *can* love, we can do all of that. It's just that some of us feel more than others. You wankers are under the delusion that a vamp's just a demon inhabiting a borrowed body, but that isn't true. Everything I lived, everything I knew, everything I was, I still am. It's still here inside of me. I was passionate in life and I'm passionate in death. I love, I hate, I care, I feel pain…"

He stopped, unable to go on for a moment. Giles waited him out.

"It wasn't the soul that went to Africa, it was the demon. It was the demon that sought and fought for the soul. The *demon* who loved Buffy, the demon who felt guilt over what he had done, and the demon who decided that it was change or die. The demon did all of that, no soul required."

Giles nodded, then rose to his feet. "As I said, quite remarkable."

He walked over to Spike, retrieving a key from his pocket and unlocked the shackles. As Spike was rubbing his raw wrists, he handed the vampire the bottle of bourbon. Spike accepted and took a deep swig.

"Thanks, Watcher, much obliged."

Giles sat back down with a heavy sigh. "So, now that we've had this chat, we must decide on a course of action."

"'S easy. We kill Ben."

"No, I refuse to believe that's our only option."

Spike almost spit out his latest mouthful of liquor. "What? Are you completely knackered? Did you not just hear me tell you that Ben is Glory?"

"I heard you, but I also heard that he was pretty much an innocent in all this…"

"Bollocks! He knows full well that he timeshares with the Hell Bitch!" he yelled, standing up.

Giles held up a hand for patience. "I know. I know."

"And he took Dawn back to Glory after she escaped!"

"Yes, yes, I understand that…"

"So what part of ripping his entrails out and stuffing them down his throat are you having trouble with?"

Giles turned green. "Spike, you really need to learn to control that temper of yours. I'm not saying that we won't have to kill him, but I want to explore other options. A binding spell, perhaps."

"Bind this, Rupert!" Spike countered, giving him two-fingers. "The Hell Bitch has to die, ergo Ben has to die. I'd do it myself, but this little piece of government plastic in my head prevents me from hurtin' humans, even if they do turn into Hell Gods that want to kill the people I love!"

Giles punched Spike in the nose, sending the vampire falling back to floor. Spike yowled and grabbed his face but Giles' punch wasn't hard enough to break anything.

"Now that I have your attention," Giles said coolly as Spike glared at him. "We will kill Ben only if it is our only option."

Spike fumed but looked away. "Have it your way then, Watcher."

Giles reached down a hand to help Spike to his feet. Spike accepted and slumped back into the chair, jaw tight and angry.

"We both want the same thing, Spike. We want to protect Dawn and save Buffy. The information you've given me may allow us to do that without any bloodshed at all. Can you blame me for wanting some time to explore all avenues?" Giles said gently.

"Yeah, well, you'd best get crackin' coz things are gonna start heatin' up pretty soon."

"Indeed," Giles agreed and sat down again.

Spike grabbed the bourbon and drank deep.

"'S one more thing, Rupert," he said after a bit.

Giles put his head in his hands. "No more, please. I can't take any more."

"It's important."

Giles sighed and looked up. "What?"

"You didn't ask me about Soldier Boy."

"Riley? I… I just assumed he was helping us with Glory."

Spike shook his head. "Nope. Soldier Boy flies off to save the world after Buffy finds out about his extra nocturnal activities."

"What do you mean?"

"Captain Cardboard can't stand bein' just a normal boy with the Slayer for a girlfriend. He's been walkin' a bit on the dark side, visitin' bars and warehouses on the wrong side of town, and payin' vamp whores to bite him," Spike replied, smirking. 'Let Ole Rupert handle this one…'

Giles gasped in shock. "You can't be serious!"

Spike shrugged and took another drink. "You take that truth spell off me yet?"

Giles sighed, defeated. "No."

"Then you know I can't lie. He's been goin' at night, after he leaves Buffy. Last time around yours truly was the one to give 'im away, but I think I'll let you have that honor this time."

Giles put out a hand in askance for the bottle and Spike gave it to him, feeling somewhat vindicated. It made him evil, wanting a little payback for what had done been to him, and he gave a little mirthless grin.

"Y'know, Rupert. I'm glad we had this talk. I mean, I did fight you fist and fang, but you bested me- by cheating I might add- and forced me to give over. But now that I have, I feel as if this great weight has been lifted off my shoulders because I'm not alone with it any more." Seeing Rupert’s glazed expression made him want to twist the knife just a little bit more.

"Thank you, Rupert, for being strong enough to do what you had to do. It took a lot of balls, but then I always knew you had it in you, didn’t you, Ripper?"

Giles looked up at him dazedly and shook his head at the smiling vampire.

"I'm glad one of us feels better," he said, taking a swig from the bottle.

Spike was awakened from his slumber by Giles closing the front door. Turning around slowly, he rolled to face the man, watching him with interest as he moved about the kitchen, removing items from a paper bag. He then saw Giles pour himself a glass of scotch.

"Oi, Watcher, bring one of those over here, will ya?" he called.

Giles nodded, poured the requested drink, and joined Spike in the living room. The dejected slump of his shoulders and weary look as he sat down, told Spike all he needed to know.

"Did you get more Wheatabix?"

"Yes, and two more bottles of bourbon."

"Nothin’ like drownin’ your sorrows. Thanks," he said, taking the offered drink. "I take it you followed my advice?"

He was referring to Giles’ revealing Riley’s ‘habit’ to Buffy.

The man sighed and nodded sadly. "Yes."

"How’d she take it?"

"Not well, I’m afraid. She… she was very distraught."

Spike nodded, remembering. "He’ll be gone soon. Off to save the world or some such rot, and abandoning her. All because he needed to feel self-important. Pillock. She’s better off without him. Deserves someone who’ll stay. What is it with men leaving our girl, Rupert? First her useless prat of a father, then Angel, and now Riley. Hell, even you left her. You’ve made her think she’s wasn’t good enough for anyone to stick around."

Giles rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I’m sure I had good reasons for leaving."

"No. It was just that seein’ your Slayer die a second time broke you, then seein’ how she was after they brought ‘er back, broke you again. You were just protectin’ yourself," Spike replied plainly. There was no malice or gloating in it, just a simple statement of truth.

"Yes, well. Hopefully, together we can avoid all of that."

Spike’s eyes took on a faraway look, and he spoke into the bottom of his empty glass. "Do it or gonna die trying. Y’know, she said it. On the night it all went down. She said not all of us were gonna make it. I thought it would be me that died. This time ‘round I’m gonna make sure, if somebody’s gotta go, it’s gonna be me."

Giles refilled his glass from the bottle.

"On a happier note," Giles said. "Joyce is doing very well and should be released from the hospital very soon."

"Knew she came out of it alright. Was only after…"

"A blood clot you said?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah. Real sudden-like. Buffy and the Nibblet were all happy, and everyone thought it was all over, then she up and died. Buffy found ‘er on the couch. Poor woman hadn’t known what hit her."

"Buffy found her?"

Spike nodded sadly. "Yeah."

Giles rubbed his temples. "Good lord."

"Way I see it, the best way to prevent that is to get ‘er on blood thinners," he said.

"Blood thinners? A good plan. And one that shouldn’t be too hard to execute."

Spike agreed, downing the rest of his drink. Giles paused, looking down, and Spike knew there was more news.

"Buffy asked about you today," Giles admitted.

Spike reached for the scotch and poured another drink. He took a gulp of it before replying. He needed the alcohol to dull the pain.

"Did she now?"

The Watcher fingered his glass. "Yes. She wanted to know how you were doing. She was… concerned."

"Not concerned enough to not hit me in the first place," he grumbled.

"Spike… Buffy… Buffy is under a great deal of strain…"

"You don’t have to make excuses for her, Watcher. I know what kind of strain she’s under."

"It doesn’t condone her behavior, but…"

"But you forgive her. Because she’s Buffy and she’s under a lot of pressure. I know, and really, I do understand. ‘S not the first time she’s done this to me anyway."

Giles looked surprised. "She’s beaten you before?"

"In the future. The nerd trio tried to make her think she’d killed this girl. Buffy wanted to turn herself in. I tried to stop her. She ended up pummeling me to the concrete in the alley by the police station. When she was done she just left me there. I could barely move. I had to drag myself back to my crypt," he remembered sadly.

"But the worst of it was, I knew why she did it. Hell, I’d even told her to put it all on me. I knew I could take it. It was afterwards… she never once said she was sorry. Not once. I was just a soulless demon to her. It didn’t matter what she did to me."

‘You don't have a soul! There's nothing good or clean in you. That's why you can't understand! You're dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never... be your girl!’ he recalled, eyes squeezing shut.

"She said… she said there was nothing good or clean in me because I didn’t have a soul. That I couldn’t feel anything real."

He stopped, hand trembling as he took another drink of scotch. Giles cleaned his glasses nervously.

"Yes, well, that is what she would say."

Spike’s head snapped up. "You know that’s bollocks, don’t you?"

Giles looked away, nervous. "I’m beginning to understand that."

"Anyway, back to our Slayer askin’ after me. What did you tell her?"

"I managed to hedge some. I told her that you were recovering. I also told her what you told me about smelling Joyce’s illness. She seemed to accept that."

"’S true. I mean, if I hadn’t known about her illness from before, I still would have known something was wrong. All I had to do was spend some time with her and I would have smelled it right off."

"Yes, and it is something we should have thought of."

"Anyway, what about my showin’ up in all the right places?"

Now it was Giles’ turn to drink. "I couldn’t tell her the truth. Told her that you had gotten some tips from a demon in Willy’s."

"Didn’t think she could handle it?"

"Frankly, I’m not sure *I* can handle it," Giles retorted back.

Spike shrugged. "Told you, ya didn’t want to know."

"And for once I can say you were telling me the absolute truth."

They fell silent as they each took another drink.

"To be honest, I’m very worried about Buffy," Giles confessed. "Her behavior tonight and her beating of you is deeply disturbing to me. I fear my Slayer is coming apart at the seams and I am helpless to stop it."

"Our girl is tough, Watcher. She keeps it together real well. If we can save her mum, it’ll do a lot of good. Joyce’s death was a real shock," he told Giles.

"That is heartening, however, I do think that things are too volatile for me to leave. I was planning to return to England to speak to the Watcher’s Council about information on Glory. But since you have told me everything I need to know…"

"No," Spike interrupted. "You have to go, Watcher."

Giles was taken back. "Why?"

"’S one of those things I knew I couldn’t change. While you’re gone, Red and Demon-girl have a bit of a spat while Red’s trying to cast a spell. Things go wonky and she ends up conjuring a troll."

"A troll?!"

"Yeah, turns out he was one of Anya’s ex-boyfriends. He cheated on her and she turned him into a troll. Anyway, he had a thing about witches. Went on a rampage and smashed up the Magic Box. Then he headed over to the Bronze and did a fair bit if damage there."

"And I should allow this to happen why exactly? To satisfy your lust for carnage?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "A few injuries and a couple of smashed up support posts constitutes carnage to you? Watcher, you have no idea what real carnage is. Angelus and Darla in Paris in 1890 was carnage. A troll in the Bronze was a minor incident. Besides, I’d love to stop it. The Bronze was closed for weeks afterwards and after they reopened, they raised the drink prices and took the blooming onion off the menu. My point is, after Red sent him off to Troll Paradise, he left his hammer behind. If we end up going against Glory, that hammer will be what Buffy uses against her."

Giles shook his head, understanding. "So I have to let that happen because we need the weapon."

Spike tapped his nose. "Got it in one. Knew you were an Oxford man."

"Cambridge actually. What else, pray tell, comes of my trip?"

Spike thought a moment. "Well, the Council sends a team to interrogate the Slayer. Need to make sure she can handle the information they have on Glory. Put her through all kinds of tests. Threaten to close the Magic Box and have you deported if she doesn’t comply."

"Those pillocks!"

Spike put up a hand. "Now, now, Rupert, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Our girl turns one on ‘em and gets the best of ‘em. Even gets you your job back, with retroactive pay."

"She does?" Giles repeated, astonished.

Spike nodded. "She does. Told you our girl was tough."

"Would you please stop calling Buffy our girl."

"Why? ‘S what she is, innit?"

"I think both she and I would beg to differ."

Spike shrugged. "Have it your way then."

"Oh I doubt that," Giles muttered.

"In any case, there’s some things we can change and some things we can’t. Believe me, I’ve spent a great deal of time working out what I can do and what will mess me up. Olaf the troll was one of those forgone conclusions."

Giles shook his head. "Olaf."

Spike chucked. "You should’ve seen the look on the whelp’s face when he said he used to be Anya’s boyfriend."

Giles laughed with him and wiped a tear from his eye. "Yes, I can imagine that was quite amusing."

Spike took another drink and poured both himself and Giles more. "Was until he knocked the second level platform down."

"Oh dear."

They drank a bit more, then Giles asked, "So, tell me what other events are forgone conclusions. I need to know if I’ll need more insurance."

"Well… Glinda’s spell of non-seeing was one. Captain Cardboard leaving’s another. You going to England. Red conjuring the troll. The Council comin’ here to test Buffy. And… oh bloody hell!" Spike answered.

"What?"

"The ‘bot. The damn Buffy-bot. We use her as a decoy to distract Glory. I have to go to that geek Warren and order him to make me a Buffy-bot."

Now it was Giles’ turn to chuckle. "Let me get this straight. I have to let my shop be demolished by a troll that Willow conjures by accident because we need his hammer. And you have to contract with a sociopathic, homicidal technophile to make you a sex-bot that looks like Buffy."

"That about sums it up, Rupes."

Giles raised his glass. "Welcome to life on the Hellmouth. Cheers."

Passions was on when Dawn knocked on Giles’ door. Spike recognized her scent before he even answered, and gave the teen a smile as he swung the door open.

“Hello, Bit,” he greeted, using the door to shield him from the sunlight that streamed in the open doorway.

“How’d you know it was me?” she asked, smiling until she saw his face- still bruised from the beating he’d suffered.

He tapped his nose as he closed the door and ushered her into the living room. “Can sniff your Teen Spirit from here, Bit.”

She blushed. “Sorry, dumb question, huh?”

Spike shrugged, moving to sit on the couch. Dawn sat next to him, placing her book bag on the floor.

“Came here from school, eh?”

Dawn nodded. “Mom told me you were house-sitting for Giles while he’s in England.”

“Yeah, Ol’ Rupert hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“How are you feeling?”

Spike gave her a fond look for her concern. “Mending.”

“I can’t believe Buffy beat you up like that. I mean, you can’t even defend yourself!”

“Now now, you can’t blame Big Sis. She’s goin’ through a lot, and I haven’t given her much reason to trust me in the past,” he said gently.

Dawn’s face grew earnest. “But you’ve changed! You’ve been helping us. You’ve been helping with patrol, and stuff. And helping me…”

“Still a demon, pet. Nothin’ will change that.”

Dawn looked away, pensive. “I just think she blames you for things you didn’t do.”

“That may be so, but if it is, there’s nothin’ you or I can do about it. Tell me about your mum. How’s she doin’?”

Dawn perked up, smiling. “She’s home! The surgery went great and the doctors say they got all of the tumor.”

He shared her enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful news, Bit. Now we just have to make sure she heals up right.”

Dawn nodded vigorously, and he smiled to himself.

‘No time like the present…’

Spike motioned towards the television. “Was watchin’ that show they have… Operation. Lotsa blood and guts that is. They got cameras in the operatin’ room. Show ya everything.”

Dawn’s nose crinkled. “Eeewww.”

“Hey, bloke’s gotta get his jollies some way. Anyway, they were talkin’ ‘bout risks after certain operations. Blood clots and the like. Your mum’s doc’s gonna put her on blood thinners right?”

“I… I dunno…”

‘Okay, look earnest…’

“Maybe oughtta talk to her about it. Blood clots in the brain are no good. An’ with her comin’ out of the surgery so well, don’t wanna be takin’ any chances, now do we?”

‘There. Plant *that* little bug in her ear.’

Dawn’s eyes grew wide and Spike saw the glimmer of fear in them. “No. We don’t. I’ll talk to her about it, Spike. Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Was just a thought.”

She touched his hand.

“A good thought. See what I mean? You’d never have thought about that before. You never would have even cared if Mom got sick. You have changed.” She edged a little closer, eyes hooded and shy. “I think you’re beginning to like us.”

‘Warning! Warning! Teenage hormone bomb movin’ in for the kill. Gotta head it off at the pass…’

He moved further away on the couch, crossing his legs to make it harder to get closer. “So, Bit, how’s Big Sis?”

The mention of her sister had the desired effect and cooled Dawn’s unwelcome advances.

“She’s okay,” Dawn answered with a shrug. “Riley’s gone though.”

He feigned innocence even though Giles had already told him of Riley’s departure. “Soldier Boy?”

“Yeah. Off to Belize or some place like that. He and Buffy broke up. He had a vamp problem.”

“A vamp problem?”

“Yeah, he was paying vamps to bite him. Made him feel needed.”

“What? Did Big Sis tell you that?”

Dawn shook her head. “Overheard her talking to Willow about it.”

Spike gave her a proud smile. “Becomin’ a veritable little eavesdropper, eh, Nibblet?”

She shrugged. “It’s easy when no one notices you.”

“Oh, I doubt they don’t notice you.”

“Sometimes it feels that way.”

His caring instincts towards the girl overrode his reservations towards allowing her to get too close, and he moved closer..

“Believe me, Bit, you are not the type of girl that goes unnoticed,” he assured, leaning towards her.

She looked at him, her eyes hopeful, preening. “Really? You think so?”

He pulled back, but answered with complete honesty, “Absolutely.”

Her grin was genuine and he had to smile.

“Thanks, Spike. I mean, with Mom’s illness, and this new demon, I think Buffy sees me as a nuisance.”

He reached out and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was something he had been reluctant to do the last time he had lived this time, but months of caring for Dawn in the summer of Buffy’s death and all of the changes he had gone through in that time, gave him a new ease. He knew Dawn was a tactile person, like he was, and that she craved physical contact. He wondered if the need for touch was a ‘Key-thing’ or if it was something the monks hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re never a nuisance, Sweet Bit. You’re the Apple of everyone’s eye. And anyone that doesn’t think you’re wonderful is a bloody pillock.”

She giggled at his words and smiled.

“Thanks, Spike.”

He sat back and patted his thigh. “So, what they teachin’ you in school these days?”

Dawn retrieved her book bag and pulled it to her lap. “I have a test on World War I in history on Friday.”

“World War I, eh? You do know who really started that war, right?”

“The Austrians who wanted revenge for the murder of Arch Duke Ferdinand, and Germany gave them the Blank Check to do what they wanted and sent troops.”

Spike shook his head vigorously. “No, that’s not what happened, Bit. Yeah, the Duke got killed and the Austrians were madder than Hell. And since Germany and Austria are practically the same country as far as the Royal Family goes Old Kaiser William felt obligated to lend a hand. No, Bit, if you read between the lines, you’ll learn that France was the one that pushed for the declaration of War against Germany.”

Dawn’s brow creased. “Well, yeah, coz Yugoslavia was afraid Germany would attack them.”

“Bollocks,” he argued, pointing a finger at her. “You mark my words, it was the French that started World War I, not the Germans. If the French had kept their noses out of it, Austria would’ve gotten revenge for Ferdinand’s murder and that would have been it.”

She pulled out her history text book. “That’s not what my book says.”

“Sod the book. Don’t they tell you that history is written by the victors? Of course they wouldn’t tell you the truth. Believe me, Bit. Take it from someone who was there. It was the French.”

She laughed. “If you say so.”

“Oh, I say so. In fact, if you look at history, the French are responsible for a whole lot of evil things that they never got called on.”

She was smiling, her eyes dancing with mirth. She knew he was playing with her and loved it.

‘No one ever gives this poor girl anything but grief.’

“Oh really?” she said teasingly.

“Hell yeah. I mean, French fashion is the worst, and the food! They eat *snails* for god sakes, and *frogs legs!* They have absolutely no concept of real food. Pate and crepes… disgusting. Give me a juicy London sausage or leg of mutton any day.”

Dawn laughed outright, her joy filling the room. He pressed on, grinning at her.

“And café au lait, and croissants, and frillin’ champagne! Wine with *bubbles*, a true sign of a weak mind, I tell you.”

She was laughing so hard that tears were leaking from her eyes and she was gasping for breath.

“And their dogs! Useless mongrels they are. Bichons and bloody French *poodles!* Bloody poofters the lot of ‘em!”

“Stop! Stop!” Dawn cried through breathless gasps. “You’re killin’ me!”

Spike chuckled, smiled. “Oh, pet, if I was killin’ you, you’d know it.”

“You always make me laugh, Spike.”

“It’s good to see a smile on your face, Bit. Can’t stand to see a Summers woman frown. And speakin’ of frownin’, your mum know you’re here?”

Dawn looked guilty and he scowled at her.

“Now, Bit, we can’t be havin’ her worried about you. She’ll send Big Sis and things’ll get ugly. You use that phone over there and call her, ‘fore Buffy comes blazin’ in here with stakes drawn.”

“Okay.”

She unfolded herself from the couch and did as he asked. A few moments later she came back.

“Mom needs me home, so I have to go. She was glad I called. She was getting worried, but when I said I was over here with you, she was cool. She told me to tell you to come over sometime.”

“I’d like that. Tell ‘er I’ll be by.”

“I will,” she promised, shouldering her book bag and heading for the door.

“Bye Spike. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Bye, Bit. I’ll be seein’ you.”

She gave him a final fond glance and headed out, closing the door quietly behind her. After she was gone, he tried to re-focus on watching TV, but found that he missed her. There had been a time when it had been normal for him to be with her in this setting. He had many memories of sitting in the Summers’ living room, watching TV while Dawn did her homework.

There were quiet evenings spent together, both together and separate in their loss and grief. Sometimes they would talk or play cards. He’d taught her to play poker. Dawn had an amazing poker face, and she’d made him proud with her bluffing skills. Sometimes he would help her with her homework, telling her about his recollection of history and his classic English training. Oh how William would come out to play on those nights. Only Dawn ever saw, of course, but he would read poetry and recite Shakespeare and make her laugh with his antics. It seemed that he was the only one who could get a smile out of her in those early days.

Then there were the times when the loss got too much, and she would crawl into his arms and he would hold her. Her head would rest against his chest, her hair tickling his chin, and he would lose himself in her scent and heartbeat. Two orphans, they were, clinging to each other in a world that had brought them so much pain and so little understanding.

Buffy’s friends had discouraged Dawn after a while, thinking it unhealthy for her to be so attached to him, to a soulless vampire, and their times together became more and more infrequent. Relegated to the outside again, like a dog that was supposed to be mean but only wanted to be loved, he hung on the fringes, looking in, missing his brief moments of acceptance.

‘Moments of splendor in the grass…’ he thought, wincing at the way the verse came back with such ease. William might have been dead for over 120 years, but his essence lived on in Spike, and now his soul was known to spout poetry at odd moments.

He was kicked to curb completely, of course, after said friends ripped Buffy out of Heaven. No longer needed, he was all but abandoned, tossed away like so much garbage. The undead, evil thing who was incapable of feeling, whose broken heart could only find solace at the bottom of a bottle. He hardly ever saw Dawn then, and after the stint with the singing demon, Buffy had nothing but anger for him. It wasn’t his fault he spoke the truth, but she didn’t see it that way. Then again, Buffy’s primary defense mechanism was denial.

Even after she had begun their torrid affair, she had denied everything between them. She denied her feelings for him and completely disregarded his feelings for her. Coming to him, hating him, hating herself and using him, she never once allowed herself to think that what they had could be something more, something wonderful.

She’d never let him be gentle. Sex between them had always been violent and raw, except for the one time, the time right before Soldier Boy returned as the triumphant hero and blew everything to Hell. That had been the only time they had even come close to the lovemaking he had wanted to share with her. If only she had let him…

‘Ah, don’t go there. That way lies madness. Or more of it than there already is,’ he chastised himself.

Turning off the TV, he rose to his feet.

‘This Nibblet will never love you as the only thing that kept her safe and sane. She will never look at you with eyes that reflect your own pain and understand it. She will never hang on your every word and trust you with her life,’ he thought, resigned. ‘But this Dawn will also never lose her mother or see her sister sacrifice herself for her. She will never know grief or pain or terror, because I will stop it. Joyce will not die and Buffy will not jump to her death to save her sister, and no one but Giles will ever be the wiser that it had ever been any different. And no one will know what I sacrificed to make it all possible.’

He sighed and looked at the clock.

‘Olaf’ll be makin’ his appearance soon. Best get ready.’

He forced one foot in front of the other until he got to the bathroom.

‘Wash your face, comb your hair. Don’t think about anything beyond that.’

Part of him wished for a Polaroid camera so he could see how bad the bruises on his face were. It had been a week, and the swelling and most of the soreness was gone. Still, Dawn had winced when she saw him, so there must be some discoloration left.

‘Naught to be done for it.’

He sniffed his shirt to make sure it smelled okay and splashed some water on his face. Then he combed back his hair and walked to the living room to put on his coat. His duster was his shield against the world and he donned it like his armor, protecting him from harm. He stood a little taller, his shoulders a little straighter, his heart a little braver.

‘Once more unto the brink.’

He opened the door and walked out into the night.

Spike was at the Bronze when Xander bumped into him, just as he had before, and from there, the timeline was pretty much the same. He pushed Xander’s buttons by stealing peanuts, and eventually he and Xander struck up a game of pool. He listened to Xander bemoan his situation with Anya and Willow, knowing full well that Olaf would be coming in any minute. Still, he tried to pretend that he was paying attention and made appropriate comments where necessary.

The biggest difference, of course, was that he wasn’t carrying the guilt of telling Buffy about Riley’s bad habit. In this timeline, Giles had broken the news to the Slayer and he had not had to bear the brunt of Buffy’s ire. This in and of itself was a relief. He hated having Buffy angry at him because an angry Slayer was a violent Slayer, much more apt to break his nose than listen to him. In this timeline, he might have more of a chance of actually talking to her. It would also be the first time since the beating that he would see her, and he knew that she was carrying at least some guilt and remorse over her behavior.

“They get in these fights and then they're both looking to me, like I'm the referee. Also, sometimes I'll say something about Anya, and Willow will get this look. This "what the hell do you see in her" look,” Xander was saying as they played pool.

Spike nodded sympathetically. “I know that look. Lot of people never really got Dru, you know?”

“Well, she was insane,” he commented offhandedly, ignoring Spike’s irritated glance. “And then it's like, I get all torn, because Willow's my best friend, and I really value her opinion. But Anya's my girlfriend, you know?”

“Nothin’ like split loyalties. I know all about that,” Spike said with a sigh.

That caught Xander’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Spike shrugged. “The whole Acathla thing with Angelus and Dru. Owed ‘em as my family, didn’t wanna turn against Dru, but they were gonna destroy the world, y’know? I had to do something. Truce with the Slayer seemed the right thing ta do. How was I to know Dru’d never forgive me?”

“Buffy told me how you helped her. Even if you were only doing it for selfish reasons, I don’t know if she could have beaten them both if you hadn’t taken care of Drusilla. You really helped.”

Spike was taken back. “Harris are you *thanking* me?”

Xander made another shot. “Don’t ever tell anyone or you are so dust.”

Spike smirked, feeling something bloom inside his chest. “My lips are sealed forever, whelp.”

Just then, he was bumped from behind and he knew immediately who it was.

‘Showtime.’

“Hey! Watch it, mate!” he groused, turning to see the troll. “Second thought, do what you like.”

“Ale!” the troll yelled happily, grabbing a keg from a handtruck. “Yes! Fragrant ale! I have been trapped for many centuries and along with my taste of freedom I would appreciate the taste of a fine grain-based beverage!”

He tucked his hammer into its holder, raised the keg with one hand and bit into it, draining it while Spike and Xander watched.

“So, um… think I should run get Buffy?” Xander whispered.

Spike shrugged as Olaf threw the empty keg to the ground.

“Barmaid! Fetch me stronger ale! And some plump succulent babies to eat!” the troll ordered.

“I'm gonna run get Buffy,” Xander said, then turned to Spike. “Or you can fight him!”

Spike sized up the troll. “Yeah, I could do that if I had a death wish.”

Xander moved to head for the exit, but before he could take a single step, the troll noticed them.

“You there! Do you know where there are babies?” he asked.

Spike decided that he liked teasing Xander and turned to him as he had before, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What do you think? The hospital, maybe?”

The comment worked and Xander bristled. “What? Shut up!”

Spike smiled to himself. ‘Gotta get my kicks in somehow.’

“Um... listen...” Xander was saying to the troll.

“I find myself very hungry and when I am hungry I get short of patience!”

“Hey, we can take care of hungry. How 'bout you just sit down, on one of the sturdier chairs, and we can talk calmly and have some food.”

“Can it be babies?” the troll asked hopefully.

“Well, not so much. But maybe... roast pigs and... stags... and much hearty grog!”

“They have this onion thing—“ Spike offered helpfully.

“You cannot appease me! Do not try!” the troll yelled, then turned to the bar and grabbed another keg. “More ale!”

Spike and Xander backed away from the distracted troll and ran into Willow and Anya, who had just entered. Willow was carrying a book.

“Your work, Red?” Spike asked innocently.

While the young witch was tongue-tied, Anya noticed Xander.

“Xander! You shouldn't be here! There's a troll!” she exclaimed.

“Big guy? Hammer? Think I noticed him.”

“I wish Buffy was here,” Willow bemoaned as the troll drank another keg.

Just then Buffy and Tara enter and come running over.

“I'm here,” Buffy said, breathless.

“I wish for a million dollars,” Willow said, surprised at Buffy’s timely appearance, then saw Xander’s look. “Just checking.”

Tara immediately hugged Willow. “I'm so glad you're okay.”

“What's going on?” Buffy demanded. “Where’d he come from?”

Knowing she hadn’t seen him yet, he stepped forward tentatively, face slightly down so as not to display the bruises too much.

“Hello Buffy,” he said carefully.

She saw him and her jaw dropped, then her face filled with shame and she looked away.

“Spike.”

“I was here when he showed up. Easily ticked off. Likes his beer. Could put somethin’ in a keg maybe. Knock ‘im out,” he suggested.

Shocked that he was trying to be helpful, she raised her eyes to stare at him.

“Umm… that’s… that’s a good idea,” she stammered.

“Yeah.” He looked at her, his vision condensing until she was the only thing that existed. “Heard Joyce is doing well. Nibblet told me,” he said suddenly, not wanting to lose her attention.

A smile cracked her face and she beamed. “Yeah, she’s doing great. We’re really happy.”

He smiled back. “I’m glad. She’s a great woman, your mum.”

Buffy looked away. “Yeah, she is.”

“You look good too… better.”

She looked back up and he saw the thin line of tears in her eyes. “Yeah. Well… I… I gotta… y’know…” She pointed a thumb at Olaf. “Troll.”

He nodded and leaned close. “Get ‘is hammer. All his power’s in the hammer.”

Buffy’s eyes opened wide. “Oh.”

He looked around at the people who seemed oblivious to the danger they were in. “You want, I could try to clear this place out. Less chance of someone gettin’ hurt.”

“That… that would be very helpful,” she stammered, still shocked.

He nodded, forming a plan in his head. “Listen, trolls are testy buggers.” He gave a nod towards Willow who was flipping through her spellbook. “If Red’s fixin’ to do some mojo, best take it outside. He gets pissed off and starts swingin’ that hammer, he could bring the whole place down.”

Buffy’s gaze followed his to all the people in the club and she got the “I’m the Slayer and this is my job” look on her face. Spike smiled because he loved to see her work; she was glorious to him.

“Right. Good idea. You work on clearing these people out of here. I’ll get big and drinky outside.”

Given his marching orders, he left Buffy to deal with Olaf and set on emptying the club. The first thing he did was pull the fire alarm, but amazingly, that only cleared out a third of the crowd. So he jumped onto the stage, unplugged the sound system, and grabbed a wireless mike that was still turned on.

“Oi! People! This is not a drill! Clear out now!” he ordered.

They stared stupidly at him.

“What, are all of you seriously stoned?! There’s bloody alarm goin’ off. Find the nearest exit and bugger off!”

They still stared, not comprehending at all. Spike raised his eyes to the ceiling, counted to ten, then gave up.

“Oh, bugger it.”

He shifted into gameface and roared. “GET OUT!”

That did it. The residents of Sunnydale might be too daft to pay any attention to a fire alarm, but give them a bloodthirsty killer and they reacted.

Screams echoed off the club walls and the crowd made a mass stampede for the exits. The scent of fear gave him a headrush and he grinned, still in demon face.

“Yeah, that’s it, ya blighters. I’m the Big Bad! Run, you sods! Get outta here!”

He gave a few more growls for good measure as the last of the patrons ran squealing out, then took stock of his work. The place was empty, Buffy and the Scoobies were gone, so was the troll, and the club was intact. He grinned, realizing he had averted the disaster that had closed down the club, raised prices and axed the blooming onion.

‘Not bad for a day’s work.’

Still in gameface, he sauntered up to the deserted bar, and walked behind it, perusing the selection of liquor. He knew that his job was done for the day. Buffy and Red would send Olaf packing off to Troll Paradise and get the Hammer in trade. Xander would get beat up, but at least it wasn’t him for once and the whelp wouldn’t be too badly damaged. All would end well, and for his part in the whole thing, he deserved a beer.

‘Ah… Pete’s Wicked Ale. Didn’t know they had this. Wankers keep it hidden.’

He snagged a bottle, opened it with his teeth, and took a deep swig. Pulling it back, he shook off his demon.

‘Nothin’ like a fang to get in the way of a good beer.’

He was just finishing his third when Giles came staggering in, holding what was left of a statue. Seeing the look on the Watcher’s face, he pulled another beer from behind the bar and slammed it on the counter. Giles came over and sat on a stool.

“Back early, Rupes?”

“You… you didn’t tell me it was quite that bad,” Giles said, stunned, even as he reached for the beer.

Spike shrugged. “Tried to warn ya, but hey! Look! I saved the bloomin’ onion!”

Giles gave a disinterested glance to the empty club. “Well, yes, bully for you.” He took a swig of the beer Spike had given him and shook his head. “God, this is hard.”

“Why do you think I spend most of my time drunk, Rupes? It’s either that or go stark, raving mad.”

“Yes, well, I would argue that it might be too late for that,” the Watcher commented.

Spike shrugged and raised his bottle.

“So, Buffy defeats the troll?”

Spike nodded. “Yep. With Red’s help. They get the Hammer, Olaf gets shipped off to Troll Paradise and all is well in SunnyHell for another week.”

Giles was still dazed. “How very… reassuring.”

Spike looked away and took another drink. “S’all we can hope for, Watcher. So, meet-n-greet with the Council of Wankers any good?”

“They are sending a team here to evaluate the situation.”

“Told you they would.”

“Yes, however, knowing that and reconciling it are two entirely different things.”

“How do you think I feel?”

The words seemed to shake Giles out of his stupor and he cocked his head.

“Yes… I do wonder sometimes.”

Giles reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of fine sand. He then threw it on Spike, shouting, “Illuminati!”

“What the? Oi, Rupert! What ya do that for?” Spike yelled, brushing off the sand angrily. “Oh, and ya even got it in my beer, ya wanker!”

He looked over at Giles, who was staring at him, dumbfounded.

“What?” he demanded.

“You have a soul,” came the monotone answer.

“Well, duh. I told you I have a soul.”

“Yes, but I didn’t believe you. I was convinced you had found a way to lie even under the Truth Spell, because if what you told me was true then…” He trailed off.

Spike sighed, understanding. “Yeah. I know. But believe me, Watcher, I wish was lying. Cosmic joke this is.”

“I’ve always suspected that the Powers That Be had a sick sense of humor. Now I have proof,” Giles said woodenly.

The words stung more than they should have, and he couldn’t help feeling hurt. Giles was his only confidante in this mess, the only one who shared the heavy burden with him, and now it had been revealed that the Watcher hadn’t believed him all along. It cut him, bringing all his feelings of betrayal and inadequacy to the fore.

“Well, yeah. Unlikely hero here. Makin’ the world safe for puppies, Christmas and bloomin’ onions. About all I’m good for. If I hadn’t colossally screwed up when I had the chance, none of it would have happened.”

Giles looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way, Spike. You’re doing… the best you can.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good enough, and it never will be,” he replied, then shrugged. “Look, I’ve a hankerin’ to drown my sorrows in solitude. I’m pretty much healed up now, and I thank you for your hospitality, but I’m gonna go back to my crypt. You look me up when you wanna do another plannin’ session over a few bottles of booze, and I’ll be game. In the meantime, I’ll go back to my cave where all us nasties belong.”

He began walking towards the exit. Giles tried to stop him.

“Spike, I…”

“Can it, Rupert. Can’t handle it right now.”

He looked back at the man who was looking broken and exhausted, and knew Giles looked like he felt inside.

“You do what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I gotta do. And we’ll leave it at that.” He turned away and stalked out. “More beer’s behind the bar, Watcher. Help yourself,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

He did not look back.

next part