Spike had stared at Buffy's closed door for what felt like an eternity.  She had shut him out.  Never had she before deinvited him...not even when he came back to Sunnydale the first time, and had cocoa with her mom and kidnapped her friends...she hadn't deinvited him.  Not when he came back the second time, looking for the Gem of Amara...she still hadn't deinvited him then either...and he was trying to kill her.

       Now, he had said he loved her, adored her...worshipped the very ground she walked on...would change everything that made him a vampire for her...and she had the Witch put back up the invisible barrier!  When she should have felt safer then ever with him...she closed him out of her home and her life.  What does it bloody take?!

       He let out a short snarl as he whirled and stalked down the street, his eyes narrowing a tiny bit.  If the bitch wanted to play hardball, well, old Spike was game.

       Spike knelt outside the Magic Box door, a dark smile curling his lips as he felt the lock give beneath his pick.  He straightened and glanced around the dark, empty street before pushing open the door and entering the dark shop.

       He headed immediately towards the top loft, where Giles kept his most potent volumes, away from the public eye, and he ran his fingers over the titles before finding the one he was looking for.  Spells of the Heart...He grinned as he opened it, and skimmed the numerous spells before finding the one he was looking for.

       He pocketed the book and climbed back down the ladder.  He began to gather his ingredients for the spell.  He sat it down on the table, then took a piece of chalk, and copied a intricate design from the book onto the floor, setting up several red candles at seven points in the circle.

       He sat in the middle of the circle, and put the book on his lap before lighting a thick bundle of incense, wrinkling his nose at the smell.  It wasn't particular romantic smelling, but he shrugged, and began to read from the book as he traced patterns in the air with the incense smoke.

       "Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, hear me call.  Hear your faithful child, and heed me.  Take the heart that loathes, and fill with love.  Goddess of Hearts, make enemies lovers, and hatred, longing.  Hear your child, Aphrodite, and grant me this boon..." Spike picked up a dagger, "With my heart's blood, make my enemy my love."  He drove the point of the dagger into his chest, and hissed in pain as the metal pierced his heart.

       The circle flashed blue three times, and then disappeared, and the candles flared up, then went out, cloaking the vampire in darkness as he removed the dagger from his flesh, the wound healing immediately.  He glanced down at the book, finally feeling a bit uneasy.  He shrugged it off, then cleaned up the shop, leaving it as he found it, and headed back out into the night.

       Spike snuggled deeper into a warm embrace, then the vampire tensed as he struggled to throw off the pull of sleep.  Someone was holding him from behind, spooned against his back, warm breath fanning against the back of his neck.  Spike grinned widely as the person behind him stirred, The spell worked!  He thought as soft lips started to kiss along his throat, and the vampire moaned before turning around in his companion's arms, ready to meet his love's beautiful, clear, gree--chocolate brown eyes?!

       "Morning, honey," Xander murmured sleepily, "Hope you don't mind, but I sneaked in last night..."

       Xander...lips...lips of Xander...TOUCHING ME!  

       "AHHHHH!"  Spike shot out of bed, staring at Xander as if he had gone insane, "What the hell are you doing?!  GET OUT OF MY BED!"

       Xander smiled coyly at the vampire, running his eyes along his nude form, and Spike grabbed his pants and jerked them over his hips, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

       "It just...came to me last night," Xander said, watching a bit disappointed as Spike yanked his shirt on.  "I woke up beside Anya...and I couldn't...be away from you for another second.  All these years I've known you...I've just been lying to myself...I'm attracted to you...really attracted..." Xander got a faraway look in his eyes as Spike eyed him a bit fearfully. "I was just got to thinking about those sexy abs of yours...and those really nice arms...and about your great ass..."

       "Stop...now.  Before I throw up," Spike growled, "You're nuts."

       "Nuts about Spike," Xander grinned lewdly, "Come back to bed, lover."

       "Never use my name and those words in the same sentence...EVER!"  Spike snapped, "What the hell has gotten int--oh...FUCK!"

       "That's the idea," Xander hopped out of bed, and approached the vampire, whose eyes widened as he backed away.  "Come on, Spike...you can't deny the attraction...I love you!"

       "This is SO not what I had in mind!"  Spike raked a hand through his hair as Xander gazed at him adoringly and kept advancing, "An-and you, stay away from me!"  Spike ran up against the wall of his crypt, and he let out a whimper.  "Don't make me hit you."

       "But baby, you'll get a headache," Xander pouted, "If you get a headache, then we can't do all that fun stuff I was thinking of doing to you last night when you were sleeping..."

       Spike's eyes widened, "WHAT?!"

       "Don't worry...I care about you too much to take advantage of you when you're sleeping," Xander grinned wolfishly, "Although, you didn't seem to mind too much when I..."

       "Oh God..." Spike banged his head against the back of the wall, his eyes slamming shut against the horrific images, "Kill me now...please!"

       "Shh..." Spike's eyes shot open when he felt Xander's body press against him, "Calm down, sweetie...let me make it all better..."  He leaned forward to kiss the blond, and Spike yelped, shoving him aside, wincing when his chip went off.

       "Li-listen...Harris..." Spike stammered, "Um...I think you're nice and all...but I just don't think it's gonna work...with me hating your guts and all..."

       "Awww..." Xander looked at him adoringly, "Don't be afraid, Spike...I'll be gentle..."

       "Oh...Christ..." Spike looked around desperately as he put space between him and Xander. This was really not what he had in mind when he cast a love spell.  He glanced towards his trapdoor, then glanced at Xander, smiling convincingly, or so he hoped.  "Listen...just let me...freshen up a bit..." Spike said, inching towards the catacombs.  "Give me a twenty minute head-star--eh...to get ready...and I'll be back in a jiffy."

       Xander grinned at him, "I'll be here," Xander winked, "Naked...and I brought chocolate sauce."

       Spike shuddered, "Right...uh...be back...just...stay!"  Spike disappeared down the ladder, and then rushed towards the tunnel that led to the sewer as upstairs, Xander started to strip, happily anticipating the vampire's return.

       Spike burst through the manhole cover, yelping when the sun struck him, and then he was barreling through the magic shoppe door, smoking as his skin smoldered.

       Anya and Giles looked up in surprise, and then Giles rushed up the vampire, and batted out the flames covering him, "Are you all right?"

       "Just in incredible pain," Spike muttered, wincing.

       Giles glanced at Anya, "Could you run downstairs and grab the first-aid kit?"  He asked, and Anya nodded.  

       Spike inspected his burns with a grimace, not noticing as Giles locked the door behind Anya, and he glanced up when the Watcher came back towards him, "Please...don't be mad...but I got problems, Watcher...and I know you're going to kill me...but I was going to do a love spell...on the Slayer...and for some reason, Harris is currently in my crypt..." Spike shuddered, "He's waiting for me to go back and do things I'd rather not mention out loud to him...you've got to help me!"

       "It's all right," Giles said soothingly, "I'm not mad at you, Spike."

       The vampire looked relieved, "Really?"

       "Really..." Giles smiled at him, before grabbing the vampire by the shoulders and roughly shoving him up against a bookcase.  "I could never be mad at you, Spike," He said before crushing his lips to the surprised vampire's, and forcing his tongue past Spike's teeth.

       "Ugh...I still cannot believe that Spike's in love with me!"  Buffy said as she, Willow and Tara went into the magic shop, "It's completely disgusting...and icky...an--" All three girls froze when they saw Giles and Spike kissing, and Buffy's eyes went wide, "OH MY GOD!"

       Spike shoved Giles away from him, then glanced at Buffy, "Slayer!"

       Willow and Tara's eyes were just as wide as Buffy's as they glanced at Giles, "Giles...I never knew...you...an-and...Spike?"  Willow stammered, "I mean..."

       Giles sighed happily, wrapping an arm around Spike's waist, "Ours is a forbidden love..."

       "Get off of me, you soddin' git!"  Spike ripped himself away from Giles, and looked towards Buffy, who was staring at him, looking at him like he was filth on her shoe.  The vampire's eyes filed with tears, and then he whirled, flying out the back.

       Buffy looked at Giles, who started after Spike, "Darling!  Come back!"

       Willow's eyes widened a bit, her mouth dropping a bit, "Giles!  Come back here!"

       Giles sighed heavily, turning towards Willow, "But he's getting away!"  He glared at Buffy, "You're always chasing him away!"

       "Me?!"  Buffy squeaked, "Are you damaged?!  Oh...wait...we caught you making out with Spike!  You HAVE to BE!"

       "Oh, I see how it is...you don't love Spike, so now no one else is allowed too either," Giles retorted before stalking out, and Buffy shook her head in bewilderment, as did the two Wiccans.

       It's not bloody fair!  Spike stalked through the sewers, his body taut as a wire.  After all his trouble...and all his efforts...not to mention Xander touching him and Giles shoving his tongue in his mouth...and Buffy still hated his guts!

       Spike swiped angrily at the tears coming out of his eyes, wondering what in the hell he was going to do.  He couldn't exactly ask the Slayer for help breaking a love spell meant for her, and if he asked the Wiccans, they were sure to tell her.

       Maybe I can convince the Watcher...Spike shuddered.  He didn't even want to think about what the Watcher would want in return for his services.

       He returned to the catacombs beneath his crypt, glancing longingly at the smashed shrine that had once been adorned with pictures of his beloved.  He glanced towards the trapdoor, listening carefully before climbing the ladder and peeking out.

       It look like Xander had cleared out, hopefully taking the hint when the vampire didn't return.  Spike sighed in relief as he fully emerged, then frowned, sniffing the air.  He could smell scented candles...and was that...roses?

       "Oh Christ..." Spike glanced around the crypt, seeing numerous candles surrounding the place, his 'bed' covered with rose petals, "Harris...please...just leave m--"  He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as he was grabbed from behind and shoved against a pillar.

       Spike gasped in shock, and then was spun around to face his attacker, and Spike's eyes went wide in shock, "Peaches?!"

       "Will...m'boy..." Angel ran his eyes over Spike's form hungrily before crushing his lips to the blonde's, nipping and sucking at his soft mouth, moaning a bit.

       Spike managed to bring a knee up between them and used it to propel Angel back, and he spat on the floor, "Not you too!  Bloody hell!  What kind of love spell was that?!  I'm only attracting POOFS!"

       Angel raised an eyebrow, "I drive like a bat out of hell from LA...and that's all you can say?"

       Spike stared at him levelly, then nodded, "Yes."

       "Never were much of a pillow-talk kind of guy," Angel grinned, moving towards Spike, and the vampire leapt back from his grand-sire.

       "Wait...what about the Slayer?!"

       "Screw her," Angel said, reaching for the blond, "It's been too goddamn long, Will..."

       "And it's gonna be even longer!"  Spike shook his head, "What about your bloody soul, huh?!  Have you gone completely daft?!"

       "About you...Christ...remember, how it used to be, m'boy?  All the sex and the blood...and the love?"

       "Right...I was really feeling the love!" Spike snapped, "I was really feeling it when you stole Dru away from me."

       Angel looked crestfallen, "Please, Spike...I'm sorry about that...I didn't know better..." His hand shot out, and he cupped Spike's face, yanking the vampire closer to him so that he could wrap a strong, restraining arm around his waist, "Let me make it all up to you."

       "No," Spike shook his head adamantly, "I hate you, you hate me...that's the way it's been since you got your bloody soul!"  Spike's eyes widened slightly, "You hate me..."

       "No, I don't..." Angel nuzzled his throat affectionately, letting out a small purr, and Spike rolled his eyes.

       "Well...this is positively sickening.  Let me go."

       "No," Angel lifted his head, his eyes flashing darkly, "You're mine, Will..."

       "The hell I am!"  Spike started to struggle, "Let me go NOW!"

       Angel let out a short growl, and slammed Spike back up against the pillar, pinning the smaller blond with his lower body.

       Spike's eyes went wide, remembering what Drusilla had told him about the way she and Darla were trying to drive him around the bend, "Jesus...Angelus...please...your bloody soul..."

       Angel ignored him as he ran his tongue along Spike's throat, and Spike tried to punch Angel in the head to dislodge him, but the stronger, taller vampire grabbed Spike's hands, and pinned them above his head, "Why don't you just hold still?"  Angel whispered in his ear.

       "Leave me alone!"  Spike snarled at him, "Get off of me, you big oaf!"

       "God...you are so sexy when you're pissed," Angel smirked at him, capturing his lips again, keeping a firm grip on Spike's hands.  Spike struggled, but it wasn't doing him any good.  Angel had him at a distinct disadvantage.

       Spike jerked his head away with a hiss, "Please...just leave me alone..."

       "Begging, Spike?  Thought that wasn't your style," Angel muttered, still not letting go of the vampire, dropping his lips back to Spike's throat, "And not a chance...after so long..."  Angel let out a muffled moan against his skin as he inhaled the younger vampire's spicy, sharp scent, "When was the last time I marked you as mine, m'boy?"

       "Please..." Spike hated the pleading in his voice, he hated Angel, but he hated his unsouled counterpart even more...and he didn't know if the whole happiness thing was a one time deal...he didn't want to risk it...didn't want to risk..."Buffy...Angel...stop it!"

       "Don't care about Buffy..."

       "I do!"  Spike tried to shove him away with his body, but only served in drawing an aroused groan from Angel, "I love Buffy, Angelus...not you!  Just...let me go..."

       Angel lifted his head, his eyes flashing amber, "What?"

       "I love Buffy!"  Spike snapped at him angrily, "Get that through your thick, poofy-haired..."  He hissed in pain when Angel suddenly gripped him around the throat, and then he was flying across the crypt to slam into the wall.

       He slumped to the ground with a groan, and he touched his forehead, where the skin had split open, blood spilling down his face.  He looked up a bit fearfully when Angel stalked towards him, flinching at the murderous look in his eyes as he dragged the blond to his feet.

       "Get this straight...here and now!"  Angel snarled at him, shoving him up against the wall, "You belong to me and only me!  If you even think I'll let her steal you from me..."

       "SPIKE!"

       Spike's eyes widened when he heard Buffy's voice from outside his crypt door, and Angel growled, his eyes narrowing as he glanced towards the door.  "GO AWAY!"  Spike snarled, a bit panicked.  In the state Angel was in at the moment, he'd kill her without a second thought, "Just...go away, Buffy!"

       As always, Buffy ignored him, and barged in, "I want to know what the hell is going on!  And why in the hell Giles and Xander are arguing over--" Buffy froze when she saw Angel with Spike pinned against the wall, "Angel?  What..."

       Angel let go of Spike, and turned slowly towards Buffy, letting his game-face show, and Buffy took a step back, the smell of her sudden fear filling the crypt ,"Angel?"

       "You...you SLUT!"  Angel snarled, stalking towards her, and Buffy stumbled back.

       "Angel!  What are you...?"  She let out a whimper, coming to the logical conclusion, "Your soul...you lost it..."

       "BUFFY!  GET OUT!"  Spike shouted at her, glancing towards the crypt door, where the sun was still shining.  If she could just get out, she'd be safe.

       Buffy glanced towards Spike, then at the door before hardening her face, removing a stake from her pocket, "I killed you once, I'll do it again."

       Spike glanced at Angel, who was murderous with jealous rage, and at Buffy, who was unaware of his still-souled status...for now, anyway.  Spike suddenly lunged at Angel, knocking him to the ground, and then smashed his lips against his grand-sire's, trying to control the revulsion.

       Angel immediately moaned against his mouth, and wrapped his arms around Spike, their cool bodies pressing together intimately.  Buffy stared at them, slowly lowering her stake, confused beyond belief...and was a little uncomfortable watching Spike make out with the former love of her life.

       Spike broke the kiss, controlling the grimace that wanted to surface as he glanced up towards Buffy's flushed, embarrassed face, "Get out," He repeated quietly, "Now."

       Buffy didn't need to be told twice...well, actually, she had to be told three times.  She rushed out the door, into the sunlight, and Spike tore himself away from Angel's grasp and for the second time that day, made a dive for the catacombs.  Angel scrambled to his feet, his eyes narrowing as Spike escaped, and then was racing after him.  Buffy bit her bottom lip in confusion, then shook her head, sprinting towards her home.

       Spike was sprinting hell-bent through the sewers, trying to make it to Buffy's home.  He knew that she had deinvited Angel after he made an appearance during that one Thanksgiving, and he hadn't been in there since.  It was probably the one place he'd be safe from his possessive...and highly unstable sire.

       He burst out of the man-hole, praying that Joyce or Dawn would be home to invite him in, but as he pounded on the front door, no one answered.

       He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Angel roaring his name in anger down in the sewer, and swore, glancing around for some form of cover as Buffy came up the street.  She made it to his side, and was unlocking the door as Angel jumped out from the manhole, and Spike put himself between her and the irrational vampire, snarling a warning.

       Buffy threw the door open, and grabbed Spike by the back of his shirt, and dragged him inside with her, shouting an invite to him.  He stumbled over the doorstop, and pitched to the ground, dragging Buffy with him.  He instinctively wrapped his arms around her as they fell, and winced as Angel slammed up against the barrier, staring at the blond in Spike's arms banefully.

       "You little slut!  Get your hands off him!  He's mine!"

       Buffy glanced at Angel, a small, hurt expression on her face as she stood, and she slammed and locked the door, leaning her head against the wood as Angel shouted at them and pounded on the door.

       "How did he lose his soul this time?"  Buffy asked in a small voice, and Spike stood up, looking down guiltily at his feet.

       "He...didn't..." Spike replied slowly, "I...kinda...did a little love spell..."

       "On Angel?!  What in the hell for?!"  Buffy straightened and turned to stare at the vampire, who was staring down dejectedly at his feet.

       "It wasn't for him...or the whelp...or the Watcher..."

       "Then who...oh..."

       Spike glanced up at her quiet realization, "If you're gonna kick me out...can you at least wait till nightfall?  I want to have a chance to keep ahead of him without burning to a crisp..."  He frowned, seeing Buffy was straining not to laugh, "What?"

       "I'm...sorry..." Buffy shook her head, then started to giggle, "It's just...you try to do a love spell on me...and you end up with every male on the planet trying to get in your pants?!  At least with Xander, it was all women!"

       "Actually...it's...just the people that hate me...now love me..." Spike shook his head, Everyone but you...

       Buffy shook her head, glancing at the door when Angel finally stopped beating on it, probably retreating underground till  sunset.  "Willow can probably break it...and we should get it done before Angel tries to deflower you again.  In the meantime, we should get your head patched up."

       "Uh?"  Spike touched his forehead, feeling flaky, dried blood and the gash, which was starting to heal already, "It's fine..."

       "Ahh...is little Spikey afraid of a little rubbing alcohol?"  Buffy teased him, and Spike eyed her warily.

       "Are you sure the spell didn't work on you?  Shouldn't you be staking me right about now?"

       "What?  Before Anya, Xander, Giles and Angel get a crack at you once we break the spell?"  Buffy replied, "I really want to see that."

       "Anya?  She's not in..."

       "Oh no... she was locked in the basement for two hours and Xander's been talking about the wonder that is Spike's ass all day with Giles...she's not a happy demon."

       Spike dropped his head as he got to his feet, following Buffy into the kitchen, where she kept her first-aid kit, "Grrreeeeattttt...the Whelp's infatuated with my butt.  I'm so happy."

       "And whose fault is that, I ask you?"  Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she sat the first-aid kit on the table, "Nothing good comes out of love spells, you know..."

       Spike closed his eyes as she swapped his cut, her warm fingertips brushing across his skin, and he inhaled sharply, "Wouldn't quite say that..." He opened his eyes when she was done with the alcohol, "Got me invited back in..."

       "Don't get used to it...as soon as we break the spell, it's going back up," Buffy replied shortly, ignoring the hurt look that crossed Spike's face, then taped his cut with a few butterfly bandages.  She quickly glanced at her watch.  Sunset was in five minutes.

       "Come on," She said shortly, grabbing a few stakes, and Spike watched interestedly as she concealed them on her body before heading towards the back door.  She opened it up, and glanced around, then looked at the sky as the last of the sun's rays disappeared from the sky.

       "Do you think he's---" Buffy shrieked when Angel suddenly swung into the doorway, and stumbled back against Spike, who steadied her against his body.  "GOD!  Don't DO that!"

       Angel's eyes were narrowed as he growled at Buffy, seeing Spike's hands on her arm, and Buffy pulled away from the blond before rolling her eyes.  She suddenly kicked upwards, clipping Angel underneath the chin, then whirled and drove her foot into his chest.  He crashed through the railing of the back porch, and hit the ground, unconscious.  

       She looked down at him as she stepped outside, then glanced at Spike, "Believe it or not...but that really felt good."

       Buffy left Spike in her gym in the Magic Box, away from the eyes and hands of Giles and Xander.  She glanced towards above mentioned men, who were happily sighing over a book, "What are they doing?"

       "What else?" Anya replied sarcastically, "Drooling over woodcuttings of Spike.  Oh...and you missed the kissing conversation.  You know you haven't had a good day till you heard your boss talking about shoving his tongue in another man's mouth."

       Buffy bit her lip against a laugh, "Where's Willow?"

       "Up here!"  Willow called, already in research mode with Tara, "We're trying to figure out what's going on around here..."

       "Oh...and here he is during the Boxer Rebellion..."

       Buffy looked at Giles, half in fear as he gave out a small squeal when he saw the picture Xander was showing him, "Oh...look at that curly hair...maybe I can convince him to grow it out again..."

       "No way, old man.  I like his hair the way it is...all perfect and blond..." Xander sighed, "It was all mussed up when he was sleeping...he was so cute...and Spike naked...mmmmm..."

       "Please...stop this!"  Anya pleaded up to the witches, "I want my Xander back NOW!"

       "We don't know what kind of spell it is!"  Willow replied, "We're doing the best we can..."

       "It's a love spell," Buffy said, climbing up into the loft with them, removing the book Spike had described, "Spells of the Heart."

       "How do you know?"  Tara asked, taking it from her, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

       "The stupid vampire that cast it is hiding in the gym."

       "Spike cast a love spell on Xander and Gi--oh...not on Xander and Giles, right?"  Willow shook her head as Buffy nodded hers, "Which one?"

       "He said it had some Latin name...with a dagger involved..."

       "Found it," Tara looked over the wording of the spell, "Well...I can see how this went horribly...and completely frighteningly wrong..."  Tara glanced down at Xander described Spike naked.  "Really frightening."

       Willow took the book from Tara, frowning as she looked over it, "I don't get why it didn't work on you, though."

       "Spike screwed it up, plain and simple."

       "It's a really simple spell...so simple it can't go wrong."

       "You're telling me that seeing Angel and Spike make out wasn't wrong?"

       Tara looked up at her, "An-Angel?"

       "Well..." Willow tried to hide a smile at the image conjured up by the Slayer, "Basically, it made everyone that hates him fall madly in love with him...which is why I don't get why it didn't work on you..." Willow glanced up sharply, "Unless you don't hate him."

       "What?  No way!  I completely hate him!"  Buffy denied a bit too vehemently, "Just...break it, please?"

       "It'll take us a while," Tara said, "A total reversal would make those that love him hate him..."

       "And that's bad?  I'd be more worried about the hate-to-love part...you know he's got to have a helluva lot of enemies."

       Willow shrugged, "We'll go as fast as we can...but maybe you should get him out of here for now.  Remember Xander's love spell?  Everyone went psycho after a while, and tried to chop him and Cordy into little bits."

       "Right..." Buffy shook her head, then sighed, "I'll take him with me on patrol, I guess.  Hopefully, he can't get into that much trouble."

       Willow and Tara exchanged a small, secret smile as Buffy grumbled about stupid, bleached vampires that always ruined her life as she disappeared into the gym, and then returned to their research.

       Buffy carefully opened and closed the door, making sure that Xander and Giles didn't notice her departure, and she turned, raising an eyebrow when she heard a low grunting, and the sound of fists striking a sandbag.

       She went in to see Spike, sans shirt, beating the crap out of her punching bag, his back to her.  Smooth, fluid muscles rippled beneath his pale skin as his arms tensed and relaxed after each hit, only to tense once more.  He whirled, kicking the bag, and making it swing away from him.  Buffy realized she was staring at him, her mouth hanging open, and she closed it with a clack.  Spike seemed to finally become aware of his audience, and whirled, in time to be smacked by the punching bag on it's downswing, and Buffy giggled as he went sprawling on the floor with a swear.

       "Smooth move, Romeo," Buffy said as Spike sat up, and crossed his legs beneath him, trying to appear as if he hadn't just gotten beaten up by an inanimate object.

       "Well?"

       "Willow and Tara are on it, Anya's in a bad mood...and Giles and Xander are drooling over pictures of you in the books."

       "And when can I start to forget the horror that has been my love life today?"

       "Not for a while.  Willow says I'm on babysitting duty...so, let's go."

       "Where?"

       "Patrol."

       "Would...but there may be a problem with that..."

       "Yeah, and what's that?"

       "Every demon and vampire in Sunnydale despises me.  How far do you think I'd get before I'm reminded what it's like to be bloody buggered?"

       "What's bugg--eeeewwww..."  Buffy made a disgusted face, "Great...so what?  We just sit here?"

       Spike shrugged, looking down at his bare feet, wriggling his toes distractedly, counting them a couple of times, then glanced around the gym, "I'm bored."

       "What me to beat on you?  That's entertaining."

       "For whom?!"

       Buffy rolled her eyes at the vampire that was glaring at her, "Fine, I won't beat on you...jeez...bitchy much?"  She walked towards her punching bag and gave it a few half-hearted punches before moving on, not wanting to admit she was bored out of her mind as well.  We so need to get a TV in here.

       Spike watched her as she wandered aimlessly about the gym, an amused smile coming to his lips, and Buffy glanced towards him, scowling.  "What are you so happy about?"  Spike wiped the smile off his face, returning his attention to his toes, and Buffy watched as he wriggled them again.  "What are you doing?"

       "What do you think the big toe is for?  It's not good for anything but boot filler...and it's grossly over-sized..."

       Buffy stared at Spike as if he had grown another head, "What?!"

       "Guess that's a big fat no," He muttered beneath his breath, scowling at the floor, "No need to be snippy 'bout it...just a bloody question...jeez...not like I asked what color knickers you're wearing or nuthin'..."

       "Spike, I'm standing right here!  I can hear you, you know!"

       "That does it..." Spike jumped to his feet, and started heading for the back door.  "I'll leave you to your little snit, Slayer."

       "Where do you think you're going?!"  Buffy intercepted him at the door, and the blond looked exasperated.

       "Leaving...thought that was clear with the me...leaving."

       "Not without me."  Spike raised an eyebrow at her, and she glared at him,  "Willow and Tara said I have to watch you till they find a way to reverse your little 'love' spell, Romeo.  Although, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it would be really funny if you ended up as some butch demon's bitch."

       Spike abruptly turned around and headed back towards the gym, and Buffy smirked at his back, "Right...staying in it is..."

       "Thought you'd see it my way," Buffy sighed, "But I still would've loved to see that..."

       Spike gave Buffy a dirty look, "On second thought...Butch would be better com'any then you."

       Buffy glared at him, "I don't know why you're acting all snippy!  I'm the one that has the right to be pissed off!"

       "What?!"  Spike stalked towards her stiffly, "Who took away my invite, huh?!  Don't think I have a right to be pissed about that?!"

       "NO!  You don't!"

       "And why the hell not?!"  Spike was unable to keep a snarl from escaping, "For Chrissakes, BUFFY!  I've had an invite to your home for over four years!  Even when I was trying to kill you!  And then you find out I have feelings for you and you take it away!?  What in the hell is up with that?  What are you so afraid of?"

       "I'm not afraid of anything!"  Buffy retorted, "Least of all, you!"

       Spike regarded her thoughtfully, "Then why take away my invite when you damn well know I can't hurt you, even if I wanted too, which I don't?  What's the point, Slayer?  I can't do anything to you and you know it..."

       "GOD!  I did see your little shrine, you freak!  It was disgusting!  And you stole my sweater out of my room!"

       "Yeah, but you disinvited me before you saw it!"  Spike took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to force his temper in check, "I've never taken advantage of my invite, Slayer.  All right...I bloody well sneaked into your room..." His gaze met hers squarely, "I have never used my invite to try to hurt you or your own, have I?"

       "That doesn't mean a thing..."

       "While, Peaches, prick that he is, would have been inside your house and draining your mum and kid sis in an instant..."

       Buffy struck swiftly, and Spike's head carried with the blow, his lip splitting against his front teeth.  "Don't you fucking bring him into this!"

       Spike chuckled ruefully as he wiped his bleeding mouth against the sleeve of his duster, "Me?  You're the one that won't let what you had with him die for once and for all."

       "Just...shut up!"  Buffy turned her back on him, "GOD!  You think you know everything about me, Spike?  Well, that just proves you don't know shit!"

       "You won't let it go, Slayer!  That's what drove the Soldier Boy away!  He wasn't Angel, he was never going to be Angel!  He knew it, I knew it...but the only person that couldn't seem to accept that he wasn't was YOU!"

       Buffy whirled again, stake appearing almost magically in her hand, and Spike tensed slightly, but made no move to protect himself as she stalked towards him, her green eyes narrowed and clouded with rage.  "I should have done this a long time ago."

       "You're all talk, Slayer," He growled at her, and Buffy launched a hard kick at him, foot catching him squarely in his bare chest, sending him staggering back against the wall.

       His eyes widened when she practically threw herself at him, stake held aloft, and he caught the hand holding it, his other arm capturing her about the waist and jerking her small body against his.  "Now, now, Slayer...didn't your mum teach you not to run with sharp, pointy objects?"  He licked his lips as she stared up at him, and her gaze flickered to his lips when his tongue ran along them, "You're liable to put a bloke's eye out if you're not careful."

       "Let go of me," She ground out, yanking on her hand, but he tightened his grip a fraction, careful not to hurt her to keep his chip from going off.

       She watched as his gaze slowly softened, the fingers gripping her wrist loosening, beginning to lightly massage the tensed muscles.  Her grip relaxed due to his ministrations, and the stake fell from her hand to clatter against the gym floor.

       "What are you so afraid of?"  He asked quietly, "You know I won't hurt you...and you can't deny there's something between us..."

       "There's nothing between us!"  She snapped, "Absolutely nothing.  And there's a huge difference between won't and can't!  The chip..."

       "That's not what I meant..." He replied quietly, "I won't leave you, Buffy...not like the others...I swear it..."

       "GOD!  Are you really this thick!?"  Buffy was horrified to hear her voice crack a bit as she snapped at him, "You don't get it!  It doesn't matter if you leave or not!  I hate you!"

       "No, you don't," He smiled at her in amusement when she glanced away from him, her cheeks flushing a bit as he slid his hand down to her elbow, gently urging her arm around his neck.  "You see...if you really hated me, you'd be all over me like the rest of the ponces out to get me.  That's way the spell didn't work on you.  You don't hate me at all..."

       "Please!  Someone's delusional," Buffy rolled her eyes, then glanced at her arm, noticing it was around him for the first time and she jerked it back as if touching something distasteful.

       Spike chuckled as he pulled her even closer, till her breasts were crushed against his bare chest, and Buffy gasped a tiny bit as her stomach came into contact with something hard, and she glanced down, eyes going wide as she squeaked.

       "Okay, see...now...that was just too cute," Spike teased her softly, and she looked up with a scathing glare.

       "You're disgusting," She hissed at him, and Spike smirked.

       "Maybe...but you love it..."

       "Dream on...the only thing I'd ever love about you is your ability to fit in an ashtr--" Her words were cut off as Spike whirled with her and pressed her against the wall.  His lips crushed against hers as he pressed his body to hers.

       Buffy shoved her hands against his hard chest, trying dislodge him, trying to ignore the way his cool, demanding lips felt against hers.  His tongue darted out, tracing the outline of her lips.

       Spike smiled when Buffy stopped shoving against him, her lips parting beneath his unrelenting assault.  His tongue dipped into her mouth briefly to taste her, and then he broke the kiss as she made a small sound of longing in the back of her throat.

       Buffy opened her eyes after a few seconds, staring up at Spike, blinking in confusion.  "What...?"

       He nuzzled her cheek with his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent deeply.  He started to lean towards her again as her arms wrapped around his neck, this time of their own accord.  He brushed his lips against hers teasingly, pulling back a bit when she tried to deepen it, then dropped his mouth near her ear.

       "Where's my crumb, Slayer?"  He purred, and he felt a shudder run down Buffy's body at the sound of his rumbling tones and cocked an eyebrow as he did it again, feeling the same shudder.

       Buffy frowned, opening her eyes to meet his mocking gaze, and then she let out a sound of disgust, and she shoved him away.

       Spike fell back on his butt on the gym mats, looking a bit surprised, confusion flitting over his features.  Buffy stalked towards him and he grabbed her foot as she kicked at his face.  He rolled, making Buffy yelp as she fell over, her balance lost.

       He was on his feet in an instant, growling as he pounced on her, and Buffy shrieked as he landed on top of her, the vampire immediately going for her throat.

       He laved it with his tongue, purring and growling playfully as his fingers went for her side, diving beneath her shirt to tickle the sensitive skin along her abdomen.

       "Sp-Spike!"  She couldn't keep the giggles from escaping as he tickled her mercilessly, "St-stop!"

       "Or what?"  He teased with a grin, watching as her face flushed, going a lovely tomato color.  She was trying to glare at him, but her eyes were much too bright and her uncontrollable giggles thoroughly killed any sort of threat that may have been.

       Buffy sighed with relief when he finally stopped tickling her, but it was only a brief reprieve before his lips were devouring hers hungrily once more.

       She gripped the back of his head, as if to keep him from trying to break it off again, holding him to her as she kissed him back with all her force, her tongue sweeping into his mouth.  He tasted like smoke, booze and the tangy-copper of the blood that had been spilt when she had punched him in the mouth.

       She gently began to lick the small cut on his lip, and Spike let out a low moan of pleasure, the hands underneath her shirt moving up to cup her breasts through her bra, his palms warmed by her skin.

       She arched into his touch, her hands running along the smooth, hard planes of his back, and she had to break the kiss to breath.  She panted for breath as Spike trailed his lips along her cheek, jaw and down to her throat.  He gently nipped and sucked along her neck, just above the artery.

       She started pulling at his belt, trying to unbuckle it as he fondled her breasts gently, thumbs flicking over her hardened nipples, and she whispered his name huskily.

       "I love you," He said quietly as he started to sit up, eyes bright as he started to unbutton her blouse and she managed to get his belt off and she tossed it over her shoulder, then pulled him back into a passionate kiss.

       "God, Spike...I..." Their lips slid together wetly, "I...I think I..."

       The gym door from outside suddenly flew open with a squeal that set Spike's teeth on edge, and he scrambled away from the Slayer, more then a little disappointed, dying to know what Buffy had been about to say.

       "SPIKE!"  Xander squealed happily as Anya shouted the whelp's name and Buffy watched as the vampire literally dived behind the vaulting horse.  Xander frowned as he stared at Buffy, taking in her flushed appearance, bruised and swollen lips and the way she was panting breathlessly.

       "HEY!  You're not allowed to beat on Spike, Buffy!  He's my boyfriend!" Xander cried, thinking that was why she looked so worked over, and Buffy rolled her eyes while inwardly thanking God that Xander was so clueless most of the time.

       Xander stalked past her towards the vaulting horse, "Spikey!  Come out!  I promise I won't let Buffy hurt you anymore!"  He called, then batted his eyelashes coyly, "Want me to kiss your boo-boos and make them all better?"

       "Oh...BLOODY HELL!"

       "XANDER HARRIS!"  Anya appeared in the doorway and started to stomp her foot angrily, "Get your ass over here NOW!"

       Buffy discreetly bent and gathered up Spike's discarded boots, shirts and duster, tilting her head towards the street entrance of her gym when Spike peeked his head over the vaulting horse when Anya started to drag a heavily protesting Xander back towards the main shoppe.

       Spike took the hint and darted for the exit, and Buffy followed, ignoring Xander's cry of dismay. She slammed the door behind her and started jogging down the alley, frowning when she didn't see Spike, and then nearly screamed when a white blur flew at her from a pile of crates, and she dropped the clothes she was holding to defend herself, but never got the chance.

       Spike grabbed her up in his arms, cushioning the crash of their bodies against the walls with his forearms. Buffy gasped in surprise and Spike immediately took advantage of that golden opportunity and crushed his lips to hers, tongue sweeping into her mouth. Buffy's arms went around him, and she curled one hand in his short hair, the other pressing against his bare shoulder, pulling him closer to her. She wrapped her legs around his lean waist, and Spike dropped one of his hands down to her hip, holding her in place, his other hand braced against the wall as they kissed heatedly.

       Christ...Spike was already so hard that it was bordering on painful, and so far all they had done was kiss. He had no bloody idea how his stupid ponce of a Sire could have survived simply kissing this girl and not being able to go any further then that. He broke the kiss, and Buffy drew in a shaky breath as his lips traveled down her throat, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side unthinkingly as Spike sucked hard at the soft skin above her jugular, blood vessels raising to the surface and bursting, leaving a lovely little bruise.

       Buffy moaned softly, clenching her fingers in his hair, and then her eyes shot open when she felt his hardness press against her denim covered crouch, and he let out a guttural growl as he lifted his lips to hers once more. She felt as if he was sucking all of the air out of her body as they kissed, leaving her feeling almost weak and pliable in his arms. Which all of her instincts were screaming at her was wrong.

       She wasn't supposed to be doing this...she wasn't supposed to be trapped between a soulless vampire and a wall, she wasn't supposed to be allowing him to kiss her, allowing his mouth to be anywhere near her throat. She wasn't supposed to be arching into his touch as he slid his hand beneath her shirt, cupping her breast with cool, slender fingers. She wasn't supposed to be fumbling with his belt buckle and snapping the button on his jeans open. And she definitely wasn't supposed to be allowing him to be yanking at her pants with an impatient grunt.

       She had to smile, however, when Spike was forced to rip his lips away from her, staring down dazedly at the pants that refused to come off, his mind taking several seconds to catch up with his eyes. She laughed outright when she saw the little light go on behind his eyes when he realized her jeans had gotten stuck at her shins, due to her kick-ass knee-high black leather boots. She wondered idly if he ever had that problem with Dru...every time she had seen Drusilla, she had been always wearing a dress, as if still clinging to the whole 'girls wear dresses, boys wear pants' rule back when she had still been breathing...and not talking to blindfolded dolls like a complete loony tune.

       Thinking of Dru naturally made her wince, but not in the way it usually did. Usually, thinking of Drusilla brought up Angel-related activities, pre-soul, post-soul and all the soul in between, but now she just thought of Spike stroking Drusilla's hair reverently as he told her he was 'a lucky bloke just to touch such a black beauty.'

        Spike was surprised when she dragged his head back to hers, capturing his lips, devouring them almost savagely, her body taut with what may have been rampant desire or just plain old anger. Anger about what, he couldn't tell...maybe at herself for giving in to him...maybe angry that her little river of denial had dried up.

       No, that wasn't it...he was sure that she would go back to yelling she hated him and punching him in the face whenever she damned well pleased...just to save face in front of her friends...hell...maybe even to herself. But she didn't hate him...otherwise, she wouldn't have been tearing his shirt open like she was doing right now, laving her hot, pink little tongue against his flat nipples way before...and why in the hell hadn't he gotten her pants off yet?

       Spike yanked at one of her boots, and Buffy hissed in pain when he succeeded only in yanking her ankle, and Spike felt his chip buzz warningly, "Zippers, Spike! Just cause you wear nothing but lace up boots you never tie..."

       "Sorry, luv," He smiled at her sheepishly, regrettably having to let her down, and knelt down in front of her, face inches away from her simple white cotton underwear, and he had to smile at that. Not that he didn't like her frilly bits...there was just something so...sweet and...American about a good ole pair of Fruit of the Loom...or was that Fruit on the Loom? What the bloody hell did fruit have to do with looms anyhow? Why was he thinking about fruit and looms when he had his fantasy half-stripped up against a wall, watching him with her oh-so-wide and beautiful eyes.

       Buffy stared at Spike as he finally ripped his apparently fascinated gaze from her panties to hurriedly start unzipping her boots and tugging her jeans all the way down. She couldn't figure out what he had found so engrossing about them...they were just something she wore when she really didn't plan on getting butt naked in an alley with a vampire...and whoever planned these things anyway? Certainly wasn't in her Slayer palm pilot, that was for damn sure.

       She had certainly come a long way from 'only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious' to 'yes, Spike, please, take me against a wall like a wild animal.' Still time to call it off, Buffy told herself, but as Spike started kissing her stomach, fingers dancing along the inside of her thighs, any sort of reason she may have had left abruptly threw itself out a window to die pathetically on the rhetoric pavement below.

       She moaned softly as Spike slid her panties down her legs, and then she gripped his shoulders, yanking him back up to her as she jumped up on him, wrapping her legs around him. Spike staggered back, thrown off-balance and he stumbled backward, his arms pin wheeling till he slammed against the opposite wall. "OW!"

       Buffy winced as Spike rubbed the back of his head, his hand coming away with a bit of blood, "Oh...sorry..."

       "Screw it," Spike brushed off her apology as he whirled her till she was against the wall again, jerking roughly at the fastening of his jeans as he devoured her lips once more, and Buffy gasped, tearing her lips from his as he plunged deep inside her. Spike immediately went rigid, his eyes going wide as he stared into Buffy's face, "Oh...Christ..." He burrowed his face in the hollow of her throat, moaning her name against her skin.

       His hands slid down her body to cup her butt, and Buffy threaded her fingers through his mussed locks as he rained cool, wet open-mouthed kisses against her neck and shoulders as he started thrusting into her hard and fast, their pelvises slamming together hard enough to bruise the both of them.

       She clutched at his shoulders, keening as his hard cock stabbed deep inside her, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in abandonment. She ignored the pain of her back chafing against the brick wall and the feel of Spike's fingers digging into her backside, no doubt leaving finger-shaped bruises on the round globes. His body struck into hers brutally, but his mouth was gentle and soft against hers. It was like the monster was fucking her against the wall, but the man inside him was kissing her.

       He tore his lips away from hers, gasping for breath he didn't need as he turned his eyes up to her, and she stared down into them, watching as their color shifted into different shades.

       She could never figure out what color his eyes were. They were like the sea, shifting their color with his moods. They were gray the day she told him she would never love him. They were a icy light blue the night they fought in the school. They were hazel the night she shoved him to the ground outside of the Bronze and tossed money into his face. Now they were a deep, dark blue...almost black.

       She lifted her hand to his face, tracing her finger along the scar in his eyebrow, still staring down into his beautiful eyes. As soon as she touched his face, Spike's back went rigid before he cried out, thrusting hard one last time inside her, slumping against her as he came.

       "Oh...God...I love you, Buffy...love you so much..." He muttered, his tone sounding partly apologetic and embarrassed. He didn't mean too that...but when she had stared down at him with her soft eyes and had caressed him so...so...lovingly...he had just lost it.

       He blinked in surprise when Buffy clutched his shoulders, crying out his name between clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as she came.

       Spike lifted his head, staring down at her with a raised eyebrow as she panted for breath, eyes still closed and she dropped her head onto his shoulder, still holding onto him tightly. She had came when he said he loved her!

       He tilted her head back up, and brushed his lips against hers softly, gently...just a brush, barely there at all. Her eyelids were heavy, and she had melted into his embrace like a warm, sweet little cream-fed kitten. She hadn't said it back to him...but he could live with that. For now. He could live with it as long as she was in his arms, just like now, practically purring, her golden hair tickling his cheek. He pressed his lips against her cheeks before gently lowering her back to the ground.

       He really hated to ruin this perfect moment of complete Spike poofiness...but he didn't really want one of the bloody fools who were in love with him at the moment to come out of the Magic Box and start weeping when they saw the half-naked Slayer and him with his bits and pieces hanging out.

       "We should get movin' luv," Spike told her quietly, picking up her discarded clothes, except for her underwear, which he pocketed. Buffy raised an eyebrow as he handed her her jeans, and looked at his pocket pointedly before pulling on her pants, letting him know that she had seen him. As soon as she was dressed, she looked up to see Spike watching her, head slightly ducked, looking up at her from partially closed eyes. His entire manner was one of shyness and anxiousness, as if waiting for the fist to come flying at his nose, or the kick to his face. Or for her to rip his heart right out of his chest and hold it up for him to see before crushing it in her hands.

       Instead, she stepped up beside him and took his hand without a word, and started leading him out of the alley.

       Xander glared at Anya from his seat in the Magic Box, mumbling around his gag and tugging at the ropes that bound him to his chair. Anya only stared back at him impassively, arms crossed across her chest and eyebrow imperiously raised. If he thought for a second she was going to breakdown and untie him so that he could chase stupid Spike all over Sunnydale, he had another think coming. Besides, she didn't want him to stumble on something that would make him want to scream and weep like a woman later.

       Unlike her boyfriend, when she had seen Spike half-dressed and Buffy all disheveled, she had drawn the correct conclusion about what had been going on behind the closed door of the gym.

       Strange, but not unexpected. She had rolled her eyes when Buffy told the Scoobies in shock that Spike had loved her and had immediately went back to counting the money. Mortals were so clueless sometimes. Of course Spike had a thing for Buffy, just like Buffy had a thing for Spike. The sparks were practically visible every time the two of them appeared in the same room or bantered back and forth.

       However, unusual for her, she had said nothing. She was blunt, but even she knew that telling a Slayer in denial to shut up and go screw her mortal enemy till brain matter leaked out of his nose was sure to lead to her butt getting kicked. Luckily, she seemed to have finally come to her senses. If she hadn't, Anya would have been tempted to do a love spell herself! If only to get Buffy to stop being so stubborn and jump Spike's undead sexy bones. Yes, she could admit Spike was sexy. Didn't mean she was cheating on Xander or nothing. Besides, if Xander can talk non-stop for three hours about Spike's ass, pecs and biceps, she could say he was sexy.

       "Find anything yet?" Anya asked, glancing up at Willow and Tara, who were still researching in the loft, but both witches shook their heads.

       "There's several ways to reverse a love spell," Willow answered, "Um...most of them involve either killing the spell-caster or the person the spell was meant for."

       "We're not killing Spike," Anya said firmly, and at their looks added, "Not before I kick his undead butt for trying to steal my Xander."

       Tara simply smiled at Anya knowingly, lifting an eyebrow as Willow shook her head and returned to the books, and Anya shared a small, secret smile with the blond witch. They both knew what it was like to feel like to be on the 'outside' of the Scooby Gang. They weren't part of the original cast, and sometimes, the others made them feel a bit unwanted. Not purposefully, but they still did it, nevertheless. But not to the extent they did to Spike, anyway. They didn't even half-way pretend with him, which was kind of crappy in Anya's opinion. As long as she had known him, he hadn't been all that evil. A little more annoying then evil, and sometimes it was nice to not be the only ex-demon in the group. Except he would freak out big time if he knew she considered him an ex-demon as well.

       "Anya?"

       She sighed, her thoughts interrupted by Giles, and she glanced towards the Watcher, who was clutching a book to his chest, looking starry-eyed, "What?"

       "Do you think...that Spike would love me if I dyed my hair blond?"

       Anya blinked slowly, trying to process the question, "Blond?"

       "You know...like...um...Buffy's?"

       "I'm getting way to old for this," Anya muttered beneath her breath as she returned to her precious register, not bothering to answer her employer. There were just something's she didn't need to know or even think about. Though...she was kinda miffed about missing Spike and Giles kissing. They were both very good looking men and she was only human, after all! Of course, waking up with no Xander and then having to go to Spike's crypt to drag her naked, chocolate sauce covered lover out of there wasn't exactly a picnic. Especially when he had tried kicking her in the shins like a sissy girl. Maybe she would kick Spike's ass after all.

       "Spoiled brat," Giles sat back down with the book, sighing as he peered down at Spike's image, "Oh...my love..."

       Xander mumbled through his gag, and then tried to hop his chair over towards Giles, and Anya rolled her eyes, considering tying down the chair he was tied too. However, her problem was solved when he overbalanced, and fell over sideways. He let out a grunt of indignation when he saw no one was rushing to help him up, and he seethed, letting out ill-tempered swears from beneath his gag.

       "That's going to cost me orgasms later," Anya sighed as she ignored her boyfriend's plight to return to counting the money.

       Oh Christ...she really was trying to kill him.

       Spike stared fixedly at Buffy, ignoring the hum of the crowd in the mall that passed them by. He hadn't wanted to come here at all, but Buffy had pointed out that the mall wasn't exactly a big hang-out for vampires, and he rarely set foot in it himself, so he couldn't have really pissed anyone off in the mall. Now, she was getting him back for the whole spell thing, even if she didn't know it.

       She was sucking on a cherry lollipop, her lips tinged a light red, and her tongue flicked out over it, also stained red. She curled her tongue around the round bulb before sucking it into her mouth, and he watched as she moved it to the side of her cheek, bulging it out a bit as she asked him something.

       "Gnnrgh?" Spike said, perfectly coherent to himself, and Buffy glanced at him, frowning slightly.

       "I said do you think those vamps cleared out of your crypt yet?"

       Spike shuddered, thinking of his poor, desecrated crypt. It was covered in graffiti...mostly pink hearts that said things like 'Spike + Ike 4-ever', 'Harley loves Spike' and more then twenty phone numbers spray painted on the sides. He was a very popular guy at the moment. There had been about thirty vampires milling around and inside his crypt, and Buffy had to physically restrain him from trying to kick the ass of a demon that had been sniffing one of his shirts with a leer on his face.

       This was beyond disturbing now. Especially the sight of Angel trying to squeeze into one of the sweaters he had bought to impress Buffy. It was way too small for him, and he was showing more belly then Britney Spears ever did. It had been his turn at the point to drag Buffy off, since she was in danger of completely losing control of herself and he had been forced to clamp a hand over her mouth so the vamps wouldn't hear her laughing hysterically.

       However, he couldn't deny that the sound of her laughter made him go all mushy and gooey inside. Spike Goo...he really was pathetic. But Buffy was smiling at him, reaching for his hand, and kissing him. If...when the spell he had cast was reversed, and it turned out that her feelings were fabricated...he'd walk into daylight. After touching her, kissing her...being inside her...he would never be able to go back to the way things were before. It'd kill him. A million times over it would kill him.

       Hell...then again, just watching her work over that lollipop was going to kill him. Her mouth tasted like the sweet, sugary treat, and he groaned against her lips, dropping his hands to her waist and grinding his erection against her, and Buffy gasped against his lips as he thrust against her several times with loud moans.

       "HEY!"

       Buffy jerked away from Spike, blushing furiously when she saw a woman, covering her daughter's ears with her hands and glaring at them. Spike growled at her in irritation, and the woman hurried off, muttering something about 'horny teenagers.'

       "Oh my God..." Buffy elbowed Spike in the ribs, "God! I can't take you anywhere!"

       "Ow," Spike winced as he rubbed his sore side, watching as she popped the sucker back into her mouth, firmly establishing it there to prevent further hanky-panky. It wasn't his fault! She had completely initiated that kiss. Great...now he was all worked up again, and he wondered if he could convince Buffy to go out for a bit of fresh air...in another alley...against another wall...

       Buffy glanced at Spike, rolling her eyes when she saw his slightly glazed ones. Although, the dazed look was kind of cute on him. She glanced down at their still entwined hands, watching as Spike's thumb absently rubbed over the back of her hand. It was kind of...strange, really. Not one of her boyfriend's had held her hand...well, not really. Angel didn't, at all. Riley would hold her hand for a few seconds, squeeze, and then let go. Spike, on the other hand, once he had a hold of her, he wouldn't let go unless she wanted him too.

       "Luv...how 'bout we go out for some fresh air...?"

       "We're not going to go have sex in the parking lot," Buffy replied, seeing through that ploy in about one second, glancing at her watch, "Maybe we should call the shoppe. Willow's bound to have found a reversal spell by now."

       "Buffy?" Spike shifted a bit uncomfortably, squeezing her hand a tiny bit, but not letting go. "Uh...I probably...have no right...but..." He bit his bottom lip, and Buffy raised an eyebrow at his almost bashful and anxious display.

       "But what?" She prodded when he miserably fell silent, and her eyes widened slightly, "Oh my God...you lost your soul when we had sex, didn't you? Does this mean you'll be wearing leather pants and gelling your bangs straight up?"

       Spike blinked slowly, digesting that and then glared at her as an evil smirk crossed over her face, "You're one funny girl, Summers."

       "I know," She waved her hand at him regally, his awkwardness giving way to mere annoyance, "What were you saying, blondie?"

       Clever girl...Spike sighed, biting the bullet, "After...all of this is over...and you can't claim spell residue or whatever...what's going to happen?"

       "Huh?" Buffy looked at him blankly with her wide, beautiful eyes...and still tonguing that lollipop that had to have been spawned straight out of hell and sent with the specific mission of torturing him.

       "Me...you..." He gestured at the empty space between them, "Us. Happen. After. What."

       "God, Spike, you sound like Yoda hooked on smack," Buffy told him, a smile flitting across her lips.

       "Buffy!" He looked at her in exasperation, and she laughed a tiny bit before sobering.

       "I don't know."

       "What?" Spike drew in a deep breath, "What do you mean you don't know?"

       "I. Don't. Know," Buffy bit out slowly, "As in...I have no goddamn idea." He looked like he had been punched in the stomach, he seriously did. She watched as his face crumbled, and he took a slow step back. "Alright...don't give me the kicked puppy look," Buffy sighed, "Listen...I'm...not sure what's going to happen, all right? I mean...um...sex in an alley? Big...big no-no. Do you know what my mom would say?"

       "You're not actually plannin' on tellin' her THAT, are you?!"

       "Or my friends? Or my Watcher for that matter?" Buffy closed her eyes briefly, feeling a bit light-headed suddenly. However, it passed rapidly, but she suddenly felt a wave of anger flow over her. She opened her eyes, giving him a dirty look, "They're going to wig big time...but I can't keep it from them...last time I did that, people died...and there's the whole chip thing and what if it comes out...are you going to go back to killing? And don't even get me started on the soul thing..."

       Spike gritted his teeth together, "Bloody soddin' hell...you're still on about the damned soul thing?"

       "Uh...it's kind of a big deal," Buffy glared at him, "Please...if you didn't have that stupid chip you'd be off, slaughtering everyone I love right at this very minute!"

       During the course of their little argument, a few people had stopped to stare at the angry couple, which quickly dispersed as soon as they heard Buffy's comment about slaughtering people. Neither of them had noticed either the gathering nor the fleeing of the crowd.

       "BLOODY SODDIN' HELL!" Spike threw his hands up in the air, "You stupid bitch! Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn and dense?!"

       "Serial killer...prison," Buffy reiterated, sneering at him, "God...I can't believe I even fucked you. What in the goddamn hell was I thinking? Temporary insanity...that had to be it..."

       Spike once more had the 'kicked puppy' expression on his face, except the kicked puppy look had evolved into the 'kicked, cans tied to tail and then ran over with a bus' puppy look. "Slayer..." He gritted out, "Don't you even..."

       "What? Tell it like it is?" Buffy smirked at him, "You're nothing but a soulless monster, Spike. Hey, it was fun, don't get me wrong...helped me blow off a little steam. I've been a little high-strung and frustrated since Riley left. But hey, with a little bit of eye batting and a couple of endearments, I got you where I wanted you, didn't I?"

       "Buffy..."

       "Get over it, Spike. It was just screwing," Her lips twisted up cruelly, "I can't even stand the sight of you now, to tell you the truth. So, why don't you be a good doggy and run along home. Maybe if I get bored later, I'll stop by and have another go at you. Sound good?"

       Spike stared at her, her eyes glittering hard and hatefully, her lips twisted up in a sneer, and he let out a choked, almost sobbing laugh. "Gotta say, Slayer," He said hoarsely, "Had me fooled...actually thought you cared a tiny bit for me..."

       "Awww...is poor, wittle Spikey goin' to cry?" Buffy laughed at him as his eyes narrowed a bit, but she could still see the unshed tears glinting in them. "Here," She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a wad of bills and tossed them at his chest. He caught them automatically and stared numbly down at them. "Why don't you buy yourself some blood or something. My treat for the good time."

       He let out a strangled little cry as he let the money flutter out of his hands and then took a step away from it as if it were diseased. "I'm not..." His voice cracked and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and she watched as his jaw tightened and his face went stone-cold. He opened his eyes, and the blue orbs glittered like two, hard diamonds, nearly black with rage. "I'm not your whore."

       "Coulda fooled me," Buffy took a step towards him as he stepped back, and she pursued him till he had his back pressed against the glass of a shop window. She invaded his personal space, pressing her body against his, and he closed his eyes, unable to help his body's reaction to her proximity as he grew aroused, despite his anger, and Buffy could see the fight drain out of him. "You're a monster, Spike...a thing," She spat out hatefully, "You're nothing to me and you will always be nothing to me. If you're a good puppy, though, you might get a bit of a crumb every now and then."

       Spike clenched his fists together, and then shoved her away with a snarl, which turned into a howl as his chip protested violently. He wanted to hit her so badly, his entire body itched for it. Instead, he whirled and drove his fist through the window, shattering the glass and slicing his hand open. Blood poured forth from his injuries, and his jaw tightened again. However, the pain helped ground him once more, and his shoulders stiffened as he fought for control of his demon, which raged against him.

       Soon, he had control over his human mask once more, but he didn't face Buffy, not yet. If he had to look at her hateful countenance again, he'd lose every bit of self-respect, and he was determined to hold onto the tiny percentage that was left. "So help me God...it'd be worth the fuckin' headache to break your face," He growled out. "If you come near me or my home again, for help or otherwise...you'll learn what resources this neutered, pathetic vampire has, Slayer. Call in a few favors, and you'd be dead before you even crossed the threshold."

       Before she could even respond to that, he whirled and swept past her, not looking back as he practically raced for the exit, and Buffy smirked at his back before returning to her window-shopping. Ten minutes later, the light-headed feeling overcame her again, and she blinked, pressing a hand to her forehead. It passed just as suddenly as the first, and her eyes widened in horror when she realized what she had said to Spike...what she had done to Spike. "What in the..." She groaned, and plopped down on one of the benches and burrowed her face in her hands. Willow.

       Okay...big bust, Tara watched with wide eyes as Willow practically snarled about wanting to rip Spike's heart out and force him to eat it before he dusted. Giles was raging about the shop, grabbing weapons, his own eyes narrowed and his entire demeanor breathing of danger. Even Anya was looking about ready to go off the deep end with the rest of them. Xander was struggling in his bonds, his face a mask of pure hatred. She hurriedly broke the 'reversal' spell, and sighed with relief as Giles went back to wanting to shag Spike instead of removing his brains through his nose.

       Willow blinked slowly, "Oh...wow...that was...oh my God...I never felt like that before in my life...I was just so...so..."

       "Hateful," Tara shook her head, "It changed any good feelings associated with Spike into hatred."

       "Damn it," Willow sighed as Anya shook her head to clear it, feeling a bit shaky. She hadn't felt that much inhumanity since she had been a demon, and she had to admit...she never wanted to feel anything like that again. "Oh God..." Willow's eyes widened, "Buffy's with Spike...you don't think...?"

       "I doubt it. If she killed him, Giles and Xander would be back to normal," Tara assured Willow. "Thank Goddess."

       Willow frowned slightly at her girlfriend, "I thought you liked Spike. How come it didn't work on you?"

       "Clear focus," Tara replied, ducking her head slightly, "And...uh...pur-purity of soul. At least...that's what my mother used to tell me. Spells tha-that toy with emotions don't usually effect me."

       Willow smiled at the blond before sighing, and glancing down at her spell book, "Great. Back to the drawing board."

       "Jesus Christ man," Dave winced as he removed a large piece of glass from Spike's palm, lifting up the six inch sliver of glass into the light. He shook his head as he dropped it to the ground, and started to take out the smaller pieces. This wasn't the first time that he had helped Spike bandage his wounds. Since he had taken over the bartending job at the Alibi Room, while Willy went on a permanent vacation, he had helped Spike patch up several times already.

       The first time was when he had gotten pissed drunk and had made the mistake of going into the bar instead of the back and had gotten the shit beaten out of him and then tossed outside, unconscious to greet the sunlight. Once he had closed up the bar just before sunup, he had dragged Spike into the back, patched him up and fed him, then let him stay in the back on a cot. It had been one of the best decisions of his life. Spike had already saved his ass more times then he could count when a demon or a vamp got a little too rowdy, and in exchange, he kept him in free blood and booze, and bandaged him when he needed it. Which was quite frequently.

       Over the last few months, he had seen almost every side of the blond vampire. Moody, nearly in a good mood, drunk, forlorn, depressed as all hell and drunker then most of Dave's family. Which saying he was way drunk. He also almost knew everything about Spike, mostly from his drunken ramblings, and he well knew of Spike's feelings for the Slayer. Somehow, in the last two months or so, all of his injuries had been related to her, her friends or her family.

       There was the time he had removed marble chips from Spike's hands after he had beaten a tombstone till his hands were nothing more then pulp. That had been when he had found out Summers' mother had been sick. There was the time Spike had gotten the crap beaten out of him by a some chick named Glory. He had a few cracked ribs and a split lip after that fight. He had been surprised when Spike had told her the woman had pretty much knocked him unconscious in two seconds. He had seen Spike fight and knew that this Glory had to have been incredibly strong to take him out of the battle in such a short amount of time.

       And then there was the worst injury...the stake wound to the chest. Spike had staggered in the back and had collapsed pretty much as soon as he had been in the door, the hole in his chest still bleeding. He had stayed at the bar for about three days after that, recovering. He didn't think anyone had noticed he wasn't in his crypt for all that time.

       Spike didn't even wince as Dave poured a liberal amount of alcohol on his sliced up hand, staring numbly at a spot just above the bartender's head. His eyes had a dazed, empty look inside them, and the bartender felt extremely irritated at the woman who had done this to pretty much the only guy he trusted in Sunnydale. Whatever the little bitch did, Dave was pretty sure Spike didn't deserve it. He had seen the vampire bad off before, emotionally and physically...but nothing like this. He had walked into the bar on auto-pilot, leaving a trail of blood behind him, having done nothing to staunch the flow of blood from his hand, his eyes wide and empty and his demon to the fore.

       Every demon in the place had taken one good look at him and cleared out. He looked like a man who had gone off the deep end and most of the demons in the bar wouldn't even mess with Spike when he didn't look completely insane.

       Dave sighed as he finished bandaging up Spike's hand. Willy had given him exactly three things of advice before he jetted for parts unknown. 'Don't piss off the clientele, don't piss off the Slayer and don't get involved in none of anybody's affairs. You'll just end up dead.' He heeded most of that advice, except for the last. He had gotten involved in Spike's affairs, just by helping him out when he needed it. And the guy looked like he really needed it now. "Hey, Spike...man...do you need help getting home?"

       It was several minutes before Spike even seemed to notice that Dave had asked him question, and the mortal flinched a bit at the dead look in his eyes. Okay, so, he was technically dead...but he didn't usually look or act it. "Huh?" Spike's voice cracked on that simple little sound; it sounded like choked tears and pure misery. Sort of what he sounded like when he caught his ex-wife cheating on him with that one demon that kinda looked like Mr. Peanut, except for the top hat and monocle. He loved the little slut, lot of good that did him. However, he shoved those memories aside, opting instead to focus on the crushed and broken blond in front him.

       "Do you want me to take you home?"

       "Ca-can't..." Spike closed his eyes, "Waiting for me."

       Dave didn't have to ask about who was waiting for him, or even why, even though he didn't know about the spell. He knew he had plenty of enemies, hell, several times during the last couple of months, he had warned Spike about possible ambushes that he heard being planned over a pint of blood or a beer. Spike wasn't exactly Mr. Popularity of the demon world, and one day, probably soon, it was going to end up getting him killed. Especially if he didn't snap out this lethal funk. He looked like he couldn't fight off a litter of kittens, let alone a vampire...even the piss poor vampires that tended to frequent the cemeteries. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

       "No...yes...maybe..." He sighed heavily, dropping his head and fingering the bandages around his wrist and palm. "I...the witches at the store...they're doin' somethin' for me..."

       "All right," Dave stood up and pulled Spike to his feet and forced him to walk outside with him, and Dave locked the backdoor behind them after making sure he had his stake and a bottle of holy water in his pocket. Like American Express. Never leave home without them, especially in Sunnydale. "Come on, man..." He prodded Spike forward, "You're going to have to walk with me here. I'm not carrying your undead ass there."

       Spike nodded numbly, eyes on his boots as he walked beside Dave, the bar tender having to give him a light shove forward every once in a while to try and quicken his pace. God...there was nothing like a woman with enough power to rip a guy's heart straight out of his chest and crush it underfoot. And the bitch had exercised that power but good. "You're one sad motherfucker, Spike," Dave muttered beneath his breath, and Spike didn't bother to disagree with him.

       God...this was shaping up to be the longest night of Buffy's life.

       She had hoofed her way all over Sunnydale, trying to find Spike. Why, she wasn't exactly sure. She didn't have the faintest idea about what she was going to say to him once she found him. Somehow, 'Hey! Sorry for treating you like a dirty street-walker while under the influence of a spell,' didn't sound quite right. Add to that little angst thought, everytime she ran into one of Spike's little love bunnies, she was forced to fight them off, since they all seemed to know that Spike had a thing for her. They all seemed intent on protecting his precious virtue from her, and she didn't have the heart to tell them it was a little late for that.

       Buffy heard voices and she turned, glancing down the street to see Angel leading a group of vampires, all official members of the 'We love Spike and wanna see him naked and sweaty' club. Great...just great. They were on the move, and with Angel leading the rabble, they would be able to track Spike down faster then her. Angel had the whole blood-line thing going on for him and he would be able to pinpoint Spike's location as long as he was within a mile radius of him. Aren't you glad you paid attention to all of Giles' stupid lectures now?

       She frowned as they passed her by, ignoring the various comments on Spike's tight ass and rock-hard pectorals as she faded back into the shadows. She needed to find Spike and fast. There would be no way in hell he would be able to fight off a group of over thirty vamps and demons by himself, and she really didn't want to stumble in on a gang-bang. Especially with her boyfriend on the receiving end of said bang.

       She glanced out of her hiding place, watching as the group turned the corner, and her eyes widened. It looked like they were heading towards the Magic Box, and she immediately whirled and sprinted down the alley, and vaulted over the chain link fence in the back of it. She really didn't want to think about what was going to happen if they managed to get to Spike before she did.

       "Goddess..." Willow bent and peered into Spike's slack face and expressionless eyes, "Wow...he really went off the deep end, didn't he?"

       Giles bounced up to the practically comatose vampire, holding a glass of tea, liberally laced with his best scotch, and Dave stared at the middle-aged man in confusion as he squealed out Spike's name. "Yeah, well," Dave frowned at his friend, "Your little bitch friend did this to him, so you guys better damn well fix it."

       "Hey! Don't call Buffy a bitch!" Willow glared at the bartender, and then sighed as she turned back to Spike, "You sure she did this to him?"

       "Doesn't take a genius to figure that much out," Dave snorted, "Every shitty thing in his damned life lately has been that chick's fault."

       Willow straightened and gave Dave a look as she went towards the counter to grab a jarful of herbs, "Yeah...like it's Buffy's fault that every guy in town is trying to get in Spike's...GILES! Get your hand out of Spike's shirt!"

       Dave glanced over his shoulder in time to see the Watcher remove his hand from inside Spike's t-shirt, and Giles backed off with a pout. "Christ...you people are really fucked up, you know that right?" He said as he stepped protectively in front of Spike, eyeing Giles warily.

       "Spike did it, not us," Willow replied in irritation, and Tara laid a comforting hand on her shoulder before going to kneel in front of Spike and resting her hands on his knees.

       "Spi-Spike? Did Buffy say something to you? Maybe about...oh...about half an hour or so ago? Something really mean and not really like her at all?"

       "Oh, yeah...that'll get you somewhere," Dave said sarcastically. Willow gave him another look, but Tara shushed them before straightening with a sigh.

       "We have to break the love spell first, and then we'll snap him out of this," Tara decided, "At least this way, he isn't getting in anymore trouble and it's easier to keep an eye on him."

       "What about him?" Dave eyed Giles warily, "He's trying to molest my friend here...and why is that guy tied up and gagged?"

       "He's only allowed to have orgasms and hot, sweaty monkey sex with me, not Spike," Anya answered and Dave stared at her like she had gone insane.

       "You know, when he said you were all a little 'off in the noggin,' I thought he was just exaggerating."

       "Spike said we were off in the noggin?!"

       "Willow...honey..." Tara took her girlfriend's hand, smiling at Dave disarmingly, "Could you keep Spike and Giles separated?" She asked the bartender in her sweet manner, "We're...still trying to find a way to break the love spell he cast."

       "Yeah, sure," He glanced at Giles again, who was batting his eyelashes at the semi-comatose vampire, and making kissy faces. "Whatever you say." He really needed a drink. He sighed heavily as he dropped down in a seat next to Spike, and then remembered the vampire liked to carry around a flask filled with bourbon and he bent and went through one of the duster pockets, coming up with a handful of dollar bills, smokes, a pair of reading glasses and several fake driver licenses. Note to self: buy Spike a wallet. He went through the other pocket and found the flask he was looking for, and let out a sigh of relief as he took a deep swig of it.

       He jumped when there was a puff of smoke and the two witches yelped and glanced down from the loft sheepishly as Willow called out, "Giles? What do you think about Spike?"

       "Spike?" Giles sighed lightly, cocking his head and getting a dreamy, far-off look on his face, "He's the sweetest...most beautiful...sexiest man on the..."

       "Okay, okay, we get the picture. Didn't work," Willow and Tara's heads disappeared from view once more.

       Dave shook his head, and glanced at Spike, who had lifted his head slightly and was staring at Giles, an unreadable look on his face. He offered him the flask, and Spike slowly lifted his hand and took it, draining the rest of the liquor, relishing the feel of it burning down his throat. "You have one fucked up life, man," Dave observed, but Spike didn't answer him as he let the flask drop from nerveless fingers and clanged to the floor. "What is it?"

       Spike climbed to his feet, scant seconds before Buffy burst through the door, having sensed her before seeing her. Buffy skidded to a stop when she saw Spike and some guy she didn't recognize standing in the middle of the shop. Spike's face was a roadmap of pain, confusion and hurt. She felt as if someone had slammed into her stomach with Olaf's troll hammer, and all the breath left her body at his stricken expression upon seeing her, but then he slammed down his defenses, a mask of cold indifference that seemed even worse to the Slayer. "Spike..." She breathed out softly, momentarily forgetting why she was there in the first place.

       Dave looked over Buffy critically, eyes sliding over the slip of a girl that had brought a powerful Master vampire to his knees. Sure, she was cute, but he couldn't figure out really what Spike saw in her. "Come on, man," Dave gave Buffy a searing, scathing look as he took Spike's arm, "Let's get out of here."

       Buffy pulled herself together as she eyed Dave warily, but he didn't seem to want to ravage Spike like apparently nearly every other person on the planet. "Angel's on his way here now, and he's picked up some friends," Buffy informed her friends, her eyes still on Spike, "We need to get out of here..."

       "We're gone," Dave replied, still glaring at Buffy as he took Spike's arm and started to lead him towards the front door, spitting out at Buffy as he passed, "I think you did enough tonight anyway."

       She flinched. That was good, Dave decided to himself. He wished he could just haul off and smack her, since Spike couldn't. However, only the thought that it would probably piss of Spike to no end stopped him. Buffy immediately bristled at his look, "Listen, buddy...you can take that attitude of yours and shove it where the sun don't shine, you arrogant little sh--"

       "Whoa! Hey!" Willow started climbing down the stairs, "Okay, time for everyone to take a deep breath and tone down the hostility in the room."

       "She broke Spike!" Dave pointed at his friend, and Spike sighed heavily, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering obscenities beneath his breath.

       "Spike's a big boy, he can take care of himself," Buffy retorted, ignoring Willow.

       "Spike's going to slit his wrists in about two seconds," The vampire mumbled, "Better call in the kiddies...sure to be entertainin'. Win us a Golden Globe for sure."

       "Listen, you short little slut..."

       "SHORT?!" Buffy lunged at Dave, and the bartender yelped as he ducked the Slayer, and Anya squeaked as Buffy crashed into a display case of candles.

       "No! My saleable merchandize!"

       "I'm going to cram the saleable merchandize down your throat!" Buffy threatened Dave, picking up a candle, and Dave dropped down as she let it fly and it shattered against the wall behind him. He ducked behind Spike, as if expecting protection from the vampire, and the blonde's eyes widened as Buffy stalked towards them.

       "Okay...Slayer...I think we all need to...GAH!" Buffy picked him up by the throat and easily tossed him aside, and Dave watched as Spike flew through the air and crashed into one of the tables, collapsing it beneath his body.

       "Hey!" Dave instinctively moved forward and he punched Buffy in the face, and then gripped his fist with a whimper, "Ow."

       Buffy started towards him again, but then there was a loud cocking sound, and Buffy turned, eyes widening when she saw Anya holding a shotgun, "The hell?"

       "I swear on Ta'hoffren that I will shoot the next person that threatens my consumer goods," Anya told them firmly, and then added thoughtfully, "Or tries to score with Xander. Or Spike. Unless they're kissing, because I actually really wanted to see that."

       "Anya?" Giles frowned, "When did you buy a shotgun?"

       "Actually," Anya sighed as the shotgun suddenly dissolved, leaving a browning, mushy banana in her hands, "Glamour spell."

       "Ow...bloody hell..." Spike climbed out of the pile of kindling that had once been the research table, and Giles immediately rushed to his side, and helped him to his feet, and Spike yelped, leaping away from the Watcher when he grabbed his ass, "STOP THAT!"

       Anya pointed her banana at the Watcher, "Hey! What did I say?"

       "Good Lord...please, Anya," Giles replied dryly, "Please don't hurt me with your rotting banana."

       "I'll tie you up, gag you, and then force you to watch the Martha Stewart Living marathon. All ten hours of it."

       "I'll be good," Giles said meekly, backing away from Spike, a look of sheer terror on his face.

       "And people say I'm the depraved one," Spike rubbed his sore butt, wincing. The dangers of having a tight, sexy arse...but really, enough was enough. He had more people grab his butt and try to stick their tongues down his throat just that day then he had in an entire lifetime. Not to mention the ripping of his unbeating heart straight out of his chest and punted across the Sunnydale mall like the useless organ it truly was.

       Okay...now he really did want to slit his wrists, all joking aside.

       Buffy got her temper under control, but she still glared at Dave, who only crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his tongue out at her, apparently not the least bit intimidated. However, when she took a threateningly step forward, he yelped and jumped away from her, and she smirked at him. "Baby."

       "Spike, your chick is an animal," Dave said in irritation, "Girl needs a leash...or better yet, chain her up, throw away the key. Make the world safer from ball-busting bitches like her."

       "You little..."

       "Hey!" Spike gave Dave a dirty look, "Did I talk to your girlfriend like that? Even when she tried to suck the essence out of me the second you stepped out of the room?!"

       "Essence?" Willow frowned thoughtfully, "What kind of demon does that?"

       "Succubus," Anya replied, raising an eyebrow at Dave, "You dated a succubus?"

       "Yeah, well," Dave shifted on his feet uncomfortably, "You try to find a decent human girl these days!" He defended himself, "They're all either going to the other side or getting turned into vamps and demons! Besides...you know how easy it is to please a succubus? Give her some flowers, touch her third breast, and boom. Happy demon." He frowned, "Of course, the whole sucking of sexual energy from my friends got on my nerves. And the whole nympho thing?" He let out a small whistle, "Well, let's just say, that I couldn't move for like...ten days after one night with her."

       Anya beamed brightly, finding a kindred being in the bartender, while Willow and Tara looked somewhat intrigued, while Buffy simply looked ill. "Ew...she had three breasts?"

       "Six, actually," Anya replied, "But the third breast is directly connected to her..."

       "AHHH!" Buffy covered her ears, "Sorry I asked!"

       Giles glanced around, frowning slightly, "Where did Spike go?"

       "Huh?" Buffy turned in time to see the door to her gym swing close, and she swore beneath her breath, confused. Why in the hell had he ran off? Oh...great...just great. Now he's going to run into Angel's fang gang. Buffy swore again, more loudly this time and everyone glanced towards her. "Angel...I freaking forgot about Angel."

       "Isn't that the guy who boned Spike's ex-chick?"

       Buffy gave Dave a dirty look, "How in the hell do you know so much about Spike?"

       "C'mon...the guy spends about seventy percent of his time in an alcohol haze. And he's not exactly a quiet drunk. Or non-violent. And then sometimes there's the sob--" Dave suddenly switched tracks, "Uh...so this Angel guy...is after Spike?"

       "Only in the NC type of way," Buffy muttered beneath her breath, going to grab some weapons, "Wills? Tara? Is there some sort of spell you can do to restrain Angel for me? He's a little Spike-crazed at the moment and I'm not his favorite people right now."

       "Oh, big surprise there," Dave muttered, "Do you make it your mission in life to make men miserable, or is this just a hobby?"

       Buffy glared at him but refrained from answering him as she went to the weapons cabinet and grabbed a sword. "I'm going after Spike and dragging him back to my house. You guys keep up on the spell stuff."

       Willow and Tara nodded tiredly, despite the late hour; it was deadly important that they get the spell broken before Spike got chopped up into tiny little bits by psycho would-be lovers. Or there was always the Spike-gang-bang Buffy had been thinking about before. "Sure, Buff...if we don't find something in the books, I'll hop on the 'net and see if I can find something there."

       "Great, thanks, guys. Appreciate it," Buffy said, starting to go out the back to intercept Spike and she scowled, turning when she realized Dave was following her, "What are you doing?"

       "What does it look like? I'm going with you," He replied, "Do you mind speeding things up a bit? Like to find him before things get real ugly around here."

       "Little late for that," Buffy muttered beneath her breath before giving him a look, "I need to talk to him alone, all right?" Dave looked about to protest, but she held up her hand, "You'll just get in the way, all right? I can't protect Spike if I have to watch your back too. If you want to help, stay here and help Willow and Tara or something."

       Dave hesitated, but Anya immediately jumped forward eagerly, "Yes! Please stay! I want to hear more about your succubus girlfriend. Was it Lori? I know she likes dating humans better then demons."

       "You know Lori?"

       "Ohhh...we go way back...to the Sixteenth Century, actually..."

       Buffy rolled her eyes before sprinting towards the gym exits while Dave was occupied by Anya, intent on finding Spike and getting him off the streets of Sunnydale before any harm could come to him. He was heartbroken, miserable and alone and probably not to concerned about his safety at the moment. She was halfway down Main Street before she stopped and slapped her forehead, cursing her stupidity.

       Where else would the lonely, heartbroken and miserable vampire go?

       "A love spell? Spike...you didn't!"

       Spike ducked his head as Joyce set a mug of hot cocoa in front of him, fidgeting in his seat under her stern gaze, "Believe me...I'm regretting it now, mum," He said apologetically, peeking up at her almost pleadingly.

       Joyce simply snorted and took seat at the stool across the island from him, "I should hope so," She said, still scolding him, but a half-smile softened her words, "You're usually so much more responsible then that!"

       "Sorry," He mumbled as he took a sip of his cocoa, leaving a brown moustache on his upper lip. Joyce bit back a giggle at that. There was just something so very not frightening about a master vampire with a chocolate moustache and stuffing mini-marshmallows into his mouth by the handful.

       Plus the fact that he was very likely in love with her daughter. "Wait...Buffy...she isn't...?"

       "No," She watched as Spike's shoulders dropped, and he bowed his head again, recalling her words to him in the mall, "She's definitely not under any sort of love spell, mum...promise."

       "Well, that's good," Joyce sighed in relief, looking towards the door as Dawn bounced into the room. The teenager immediately froze when she saw Spike, letting out a squeak before whirling around and disappearing.

       "She all right?" He asked, sounding somewhat confused, as he leaned back in his seat, watching her retreating back. She couldn't be frightened off him...the girl had spent the better part of three hours in his crypt just a few days before, and had been irritatingly not scared of him.

       Joyce hid an amused smile at Spike's obliviousness to Dawn's reaction, "Relax...she'll be back in a couple minutes," Joyce replied confidently. "She used to do it every time Xander came over."

       "Huh?"

       He's just too cute when he's bewildered, Joyce thought, shaking her head, not explaining any further. However, Dawn was back in less then three minutes, her lips freshly glossed and her hair brushed shiny.

       "Hey, Nibblet," He greeted her, causing her to blush furiously and almost fall over when he offered her a tiny grin.

       Oh my God...he is too hot...She thought appreciatively, eagerly scrambling up on the stool next to him. She propped her head up with her elbow on the table, smiling radiantly at him. He only gave her an odd look and glanced at Joyce, who was covering her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh.

       Women...he thought, still completely confused as to what was wrong with Dawn. "Listen...mum...umm...I know Bu--the Slayer...might not approve...but I need a place to hide out...a place that needs an invite till the witches sort out this spell-thing...be out of your hair tomorrow once the sun sets...basement's fine with me an' everything..."

       "Yes!" Dawn squealed, making Spike jump and his eyes widen as he stared at her as if she had gone clear out of her mind. "Say yes, mom! Come on...he's got nowhere to stay...oh! And tomorrow's Saturday and you got the thing at the gallery anyways...and he can keep me company or something! Please, please, please?!"

       "Volume, Bit," Spike stuck a finger in his ear, as if cleaning it out, "Bloody hell...I think you busted one of my eardrums."

       "Oh! I'm sooooo sorry...I forgot about the vamp hearing thing," Dawn practically gushed, making Spike eye her fearfully.

       "This...isn't a spell thing, is it?" His eyes went wide as he looked at Joyce, "Oh...Christ...it is, isn't it?"

       "Nope," Joyce replied, smirking at him, "It's not a spell thing."

       "What spell?" Dawn asked, then pouted when neither adult answered her question.

       "I think I have to ask Buffy first, Spike," Joyce said hesitatingly, "After what...uh..." She glanced at Dawn and then at Spike, "In light of recent events, I'll have to make it her decision. You're welcome here, and I do love having you over, but this is first and foremost Buffy's home. She needs to be comfortable in her own home..."

       Spike ducked his head again, his face falling a bit, but he didn't argue, knowing she was right. Dawn practically went into convulsions at the sad puppy-dog look on his face, and she gave him mom a look. "Moooommm! Why do we always have to do what Buffy wants us to do?!"

       "Bit," Spike lifted his head, giving her a look, "Your mum's right."

       "But..."

       "No buts, Dove. She's right."

       Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, lower lip jutting out petulantly, but didn't argue any further, but then nearly fell off her stool when the back door promptly burst open. Spike was immediately on his feet, snarling as he slipped into game face and stepped forward, prepared to defend the two women.

       "Buffy Anne Summers!" Joyce stood up, hand over her chest as if to still her pounding heart when she saw her daughter in the doorway, "You scared the life out of me!"

       Spike relaxed a tiny bit, his human mask falling back into place, and he drew back as if burned, already looking for the nearest exit.

       "Spike, sit your ass back down now," Buffy ordered, pointing at the stool, and he immediately obeyed, eyes slightly wide, and the Slayer took a couple of seconds to regain her breath, after having sprinted all the way from Main Street. She moved out of the doorway, locking it firmly behind her. "Dawn, go draw the blinds and make sure the windows are all locked..."

       "What's going on?" Joyce asked worriedly.

       "Spike's personal fan club are on the move," Buffy answered, shaking her head, "You and Dawn need to make yourselves scarce. In case they do find him, I don't want you guys around. It could get real ugly. You remember Xander's spell, right?"

       "Yes," Joyce paled a bit, remembering wanting to dismember Xander and his girlfriend with an ax. "It's come to that again?"

       "Yep, they want Spike and they're completely willing to take me out in the process," Buffy replied distractedly, heading towards the stairs to go to her room and raid her weapons chest. "I really want you and Dawn gone for this...it's going to get way messy..."

       Spike stood up, shaking his head, "Forget it...I'll leave...s'not your fight...and don't wanna put the Nibblet and Joyce in harm's way..."

       "And go where, Spike? Angel's leading the group. Wouldn't take him long to find you anyway..."

       "There's the warehouse district...plenty places to hide...and Peaches doesn't know the sewers as well as I do...an' there's always the caves...could lead them a merry chase about town...oughta buy enough time for the witches to break the spell, right?"

        "I'm not taking that chance," Buffy told him fiercely, her face set in a stubborn mask as she laid a hand on his arm. Spike looked down at it, blinking owlishly, his mouth falling open a bit, "Come on, I got weapons in my room...mom, get Dawn and head over to the Magic Box. Once the spell's broken, you can come back home."

       "Um...Buffy...?" Dawn called from the living room, "I think we're a little late for the running thing..."

       "What?" Buffy went into the living room, and saw Dawn standing beside the window, peeking out of the heavy drapes, and she took a glance outside as well, swearing when she saw the mob already approaching her house. "Fuck!"

       "Buffy! There's no excuse for that kind of language!" Joyce called and Buffy turned her head, giving her mother an exasperated look.

       Spike stifled a chuckle as he glanced out the window, and then he frowned, "You have got to be kiddin' me! Torches! They're carryin' bloody torches! What the hell do they think they're doin'? Storming Castle Frankenstein, for Chrissakes?"

       "I really can't believe no one notices that sort of thing in this stupid town," Dawn groused, rolling her eyes. "Bunch of demons stomping up the road, carrying flaming torches, oh! Not completely noticeable at all!"

       Spike shook his head, dropping the drapes as he laid a hand on Dawn's shoulder, and looking towards Buffy worriedly, "The basement might be safest for them at the moment," He told her, "No windows for the nasties to climb through..."

       "Right, mom, Dawn, basement...Spike, come on, we'll grab my weapons..."

       "Come on, baby," Joyce drew a protesting Dawn towards the basement door as Spike jogged up the stairs after Buffy, glancing after the two Summers' women with a worried look on his face.

       He paused in Buffy's doorway, watching as she dragged a heavy, wooden chest out of her closet. She popped open the top and started to toss stakes, knifes, small hand axes, holy water, crosses and other such paraphernalia onto her bed, her mouth twisting a bit. "Dammit...I should never have started keeping my bigger stuff at the Magic Box," She muttered beneath her breath, really wishing she had a broadsword or two. They would have to fight in extremely close quarters with her smaller weapons, and she had only one crossbow in her room and a limited amount of bolts for it.

       "Why are you doing this?" Spike's quiet voice from the doorway made her pause, and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

       "Doing what?"

       "This..." He waved at her vaguely, the hurt on his face making her heart ache in his chest, "After...after what happened...at the mall..."

       She dropped the last of the stakes and approached him, inwardly wincing when he took a small step back, a wary look on his face. She moved swiftly, grabbing his hands before he could move away and folding them against her chest.

       "Spike...what I said at the mall...that wasn't me." She smiled slightly when he shot her a confused look. "Willow tried a reversal spell...went horribly wrong...obviously..." She lifted a hand to his face, and he turned his face into it, nuzzling the palm of her hand with a soft sigh, and her smile widened. She had hurt him so much, and for all he had known, she had meant every word she had said...and he was still willing to throw himself to the wolves to protect her mother and sister, even though he had thought she hated him and still viewed him as a monster.

       "You're a good man," Buffy whispered quietly, watching as Spike's eyes shot open, the expressive orbs darkening in surprise. "You're my man." She pressed a swift, chaste kiss to his lips before releasing him and turning towards her bed, gathering up a armload of stakes. Spike stood there, looking completely stunned, and for once in his life, was completely and utterly speechless.

       Buffy smiled as she shoved the stakes into his arms, and grabbing weapons for herself and heading towards the door, "Come on, Fang Breath. Stop screwing around."

       Spike shook his head, and started after her, stumbling and dropping his stakes as he followed her dazedly, her words ringing in his ears. You're a good man...you're my man...

       "SPIKE!"

       "Coming!" He almost fell down the stairs in his haste to get to her. He found her in the living room, pushing the couches out of the way and moving the coffee table to clear room to fight, in case the demons that didn't need an invite got inside. He peeked out of the blinds as she did this, wincing when he saw the group of at least thirty vampires and demons out in the front lawn. One of them let out a shrill squeal of his name when he saw Spike ducking back behind the blinds, and then they all started screaming, like some sort of demented group of Beatle fans.

       "Sounds like the Natives are getting restless out there," Buffy remarked wryly, peeking out herself, her eyes widening, "When in the HELL did they have time to print out T-shirts with your face on them?!"

       "What?!" Spike pulled back the blinds again, his eyes wide, and then he glared at Buffy when she started laughing.

       "Made you look," She teased him lightly as he shook his head and dropped the drapes again, grabbing up an ax with a sigh. They both glanced towards the window when a chant started up outside.

       "We want Spike...We want Spike...We want Spike..."

       The two blondes exchanged a grimace, and Spike grabbed the crossbow and loaded it up. He reached his hand through the blinds and flicked open the lock. He nodded at Buffy, who pulled the blinds open. The chant immediately rose into a shout as Spike was revealed, and he smirked out at the crowd, raising a hand in greeting, before flinging opening the window and letting a bolt loose. It struck a vampire near the front, and the crowd went completely silent as the vamp burst into dust.

       "Buggers didn't like that, I reckon," Spike observed as he slammed the window shut again and ducked back behind the wall, grinning at Buffy. However, two seconds later, the chant picked up again, and the grin disappeared. "Dammit! They just don't take the hint, do they?" He jumped when a rock crashed through the window, and he stared down at the projectile, seeing the piece of paper wrapped around it with an elastic band.

       Buffy picked it up and took off the paper, peering at it in confusion before handing it to Spike with a shrug.

       "Grah nak mah nark," He read with gutteral grunts, "Urk miark gak..." At Buffy's puzzled look, he sighed. "Fyral demon," He muttered, rolling his eyes, "I just got love poetry from a Fyral demon...gotta admit, that's a first."

       "Damn...time to break out mom's silverware set then."

       Spike's head suddenly jerked and he turned his eyes up to the ceiling, swearing loudly, "Fuck! Something's on the roof!" The sound of breaking glass followed his exclamation and they exchanged a look when the chanting stopped again, and then they were jumping back from the window when they heard the demons charging forward, and they were both falling forward onto the weapons, grabbing them up.

       The first demon crashed through the window, and rolled as he hit the ground, but within seconds, Spike was bringing down his ax, his sheer strength slicing through throat and spine. The demon's body twitched as it's head went flying off, smacking into the side of the couch and leaving a smear of bluish iridescent blood on the tan fabric, and it pooled on the carpet. An acrid smell immediately filled the air, and Buffy covered her nose with a groan. "GOD! I hate it when they do that!"

       Vampires were now pressing up against the window, leering in at Spike, but unable to get in because of the barrier, but something heavy was battering against the door. Luckily, when she had found out what Dawn was, she had Willow reinforce the house, so it would take a lot of strength before the simple wood door gave...but she had forgotten about the damned windows. Angel pushed his way to the front and glared in at the two blondes, "Buffy! Let me in!" He roared at her, but Buffy ignored him as she grabbed up the crossbow Spike had dropped and started to point it at the vampires.

       "Don't!" Spike grabbed her arm, "Save the bolts. They can't get in anyway."

       Buffy nodded, and then whirled as a demon came crashing down the stairs, and let the bolt lose, striking it in the eye, and it fell over, dying as the bolt embedded itself into his eye, and she winced when it smashed through the banister, "DAMMIT! My mom is going to KILL me!"

       "Focus, pet," Spike grunted as he charged at a demon coming through the window, ax swinging, and the demon tumbled back out as the blade sliced through it's leg. He was awarded with a spray of brackish blood into his face, and he groaned as he spat out the blood in his mouth. Unfortunately, he had wandered too close to the window, and another demon managed to reach in and snag the tails of his duster. Spike yelped as he was yanked backwards into the waiting arms of the vampires waiting outside for him, and Angel let out a possessive roar as he grabbed one of Spike's arms.

       "SPIKE!" Buffy leapt at him, grabbing one of his legs and bracing hers against the wall below the window. Spike shouted as the vampires tugged him one way and Buffy tugged the other, eyes crossing in pain, feeling as if he was about to be ripped in half. With a snarl, he vamped out and turned his head, burying his fangs in someone's hand, and then began to buck and twist furiously, making it difficult for them to keep a grip on him.

       Buffy braced herself, gripping Spike's leg, her nails digging into his flesh through the denim, and she yanked on him as hard as she could. For a few seconds, Spike didn't move, and then suddenly, he snapped back into the house, falling back into her with a pained groan. They both recovered quickly, scrambling back from the window as the Fyarl who undoubtedly had sent Spike the little love poem crashed through the wall, swinging his long eared, horned head back and forth before finally focusing on Spike.

       "Shit!" Spike was on his feet, and pulling Buffy's to hers, "Silver! We need silver!"

       "Kitchen!" Spike dragged her behind him, the Fyral stomping after them heavily, making the entire house shake, and Buffy glanced over her shoulder, swearing when she saw more demons pouring into the hole the Fyral had left behind him. "Crap!"

       They ducked into the kitchen, and Buffy started open and shutting cabinets, swearing when she couldn't find her mother's silver set. Spike was watching the doorway, bouncing in place next to her anxiously. He frowned when he saw the Fyral had stopped following them, and cautiously approached the doorway. He swore when he saw the Fyral sniffing the door to the basement. The Fyral, an extremely stupid demon, was easily distracted. Once the object of his lust was out of sight, he had probably become intrigued by the scent of Joyce and Dawn. With all the commotion going on up there, Spike hadn't picked up on the heady scent of fear wafting from down the stairs. It was sure to attract all the demons' attentions, especially since Dawn's seemed oddly potent...for a scared little girl, anyway. With that scent in the air, it was going to drive them berserk.

       "Buffy..." Spike turned to face the Slayer, and she looked up from her search, an irritable look on her face, which immediately faded when she met Spike's eyes.

       "NO!"

       "I gotta, luv...they can smell 'em downstairs..." He heard the Fyral demon testing the door, and then before Buffy could make a move, he was swinging out into the hallway, shouting, "HEY!"

       The Fyral looked up from the basement door, eyes immediately lighting up when it saw Spike, babbling at him in it's bestial language. Before Buffy could make a move, Spike was sprinting out, ducking the Fyral's claws, and then it was following him with a roar.

       "SPIKE! NO!" Buffy ran after them, watching as Spike ran for the window, and he jumped up on the sill, using it as a launching pad, and flinging himself over the head of the other demons. Buffy reached the window as the Fyral crashed through it, still shouting the vampire's name. She watched him hit the ground and roll for a few meters, but before he could gain his feet, the vampires and demons were on him. She couldn't see him in the sudden dog-pile of bodies.

       Angel was standing beside it, trying to pull them off of his grand-childe, snarling challenges at them, and Buffy leaned against the sill, trying to get a view of her lover beneath the flailing arms and legs. There was the sound of tearing fabric, accompanied by Spike's roar of pain, and Buffy cringed when she saw a vampire hold up the sleeve of Spike's duster triumphantly, and then she paled when she saw it dripping with blood.

       Without thinking, she jumped out of the window and began tearing at the bodies, tossing them aside, fingernails digging into flesh, blood staining her hands in her desperation. Suddenly, Angel stopped pulling off bodies, and he blinked, glancing around dazedly. He looked at Buffy as she hauled off the last demon, only to cry out in anguish when there was nothing but torn up earth, and a fine sifting of ashes, spread all out along the ground.

       Giles smiled happily as he brushed his fingertips against a picture of Spike in one of his books, smiling to himself, "He really does look good with tousled..." He blinked rapidly, and then he was jumping to his feet with a shout, shoving the book away from him, "I'M GOING TO KILL THE GIT!"

       Willow's head snapped up from where she had been dozing over a book, and Tara did very much the same thing. She looked down from the loft to see Giles stomping across the store, grumbling about 'stupid vampires', walking right past a still gagged and tied Xander. "I...uh..." She frowned, glancing at Tara, "Did you break the spell?"

       Tara shook her head, and then her eyes went wide, "Oh God...Spike."

       "What about Spike?" Dave appeared below them from the back, where he had been having a cup of coffee with Anya, and he paled when he saw the panicked look on their faces, "Oh God...he's dead, isn't he?"

       Willow and Tara didn't answer him, but the sorrowful look they exchanged was all the answer he needed. "Aw...Jesus..."

       "Christ..." Spike groaned as he rolled over onto his back, his entire body aching from being crushed by nearly every damned vampire and demon in Sunnydale. He opened his eyes blearily, and then shot up when he saw he was surrounded by nothing but darkness, "Oh God...I'm blind!"

       "Don't be such a drama queen," A feminine voice drifted through the darkness, and he blinked when the darkness was suddenly illuminated. He was lying in the midst of a huge mound of soft, satin pillows, staring up at a high, white marble ceiling. Tall pillars reached upwards as well, festooned with rich looking tapestries. Spike turned his head, and saw marble statues, depicting people in a myriad of positions, copulating with each other.

       "Strange...I thought hell would be less...kitsch," He muttered beneath his breath as he sat up, and then his eyes went wide. Several beautiful women, all with long, curly tresses, were wandering about, dressed in short, white robes, a thin braid of gold rope looped around their waists. Several of them came towards him, carrying bowls of different, exotic fruits, and a gold decanter of what smelled like human blood. One of the women poured him a chalice, and he took it eagerly, downing it hungrily, not having fed nearly all day. He didn't even bother to worry if it was drugged or not.

       The women all smiled at him with identical, flirty smiles as they kneeled beside him, and his eyes went slightly wide when he felt hands on him, trying to unbutton his shirt and remove his torn duster. "Whoa!" He shook them off, whirling to his feet and holding up his hands before him protectively, "Flattered...really...I really, really am...but...I'm taken."

       "You're just too cute," The feminine voice that had spoken before said, and Spike turned sharply, even while trying to keep an eye on the touch-y women. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the woman dressed in crimson silks and satins, reclining on a divan regally, while several men dressed very scantily created breeze for her with large feathered fans. Their skin shined, polished with some sort of fragrant oil he didn't recognize. The woman tossed her long, blond curls as she pushed herself into a sitting position, delicately patting her mouth as she yawned widely. "Stupid...but cute."

       Spike bristled, glaring at her, "Who are you? And what in the soddin' hell am I doing here?" He snapped at her angrily.

       "Foolish boy," The woman sat up, smirking at him, "I'm the one you called on, darling. I'm Aphrodite, Goddess of Love...and you're here because you died."

       "I died a long time ago, blondie...you're really out of the loop if you haven't figured that out yet..."

       "No, sweetie-pie," Aphrodite smiled at him as she stretched her arms over her head, breasts straining against her crimson bodice, and she let out a humming, trilling sound of pleasure, "Well...Zeus...I am beat. I've been waiting around here aaalllll day for you." She popped open one eye, displeasure crossing her face when she saw Spike just staring at her in annoyance. "Is this just doing nothing for you?" She asked, cupping her breasts and pressing them together, raising an eyebrow at the vampire.

       "Not really, no," Spike crossed his arms over his chest, "If I'm dead, why am I here, 'stead of hell or something?"

       She sighed, dropping her hands from her breasts as she stood up, and started towards him. Midway, she paused, and then glanced at her shoulder, glaring at the men who had been fanning her. "Hello? Goddess on the move? Try to keep up with me boys." They scrambled after her, and she rolled her eyes as she turned back to Spike, "Gods...we can never find any good help these days on Olympus."

       Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, desperately resisting the urge to plunge his fist into her chest and rip out her heart and then forcing her to eat it. While it was sure to be immensely gratifying, he was fairly sure it wouldn't kill her, and he would very possibly end up in even more trouble. "Right...I'm dead...again...how much trouble could I get into?" He mumbled beneath his breath before opening his eyes and giving the Goddess a dirty look. "Listen, you silly, twit...I asked you a question...make with the answers."

       "Hey, buddy," Aphrodite drew herself up to her full height, looking down her nose at him, "You called on me, if you remember. Faithful child, my ass. I hate it when you people use my spells, and you're all shocked and amazed when they don't work. Make my enemy my love? Oh! Come ON! Like that couldn't have possibly gone wrong. You know what's wrong with you pathetic mortals? You take perfectly good love spells and twist them around! I never had this problem back in the day. There were no spells! You prayed, left me a couple pretty necklaces, and if I liked ya, you'd get the girl. But these days? I have to listen to every single stupid person who can throw a couple candles in a circle and demand for people to fall in love with them. You think that's fun for me? My job used to be important, y'know? I had respect in spades! Now I got every hack witch on the planet who fancies themselves in love calling on me! And when it goes wrong? Ohhh...blame the Goddess! She's the one who screwed up the spell!" Aphrodite stomped her small foot petulantly, "I'm under appreciated, under-valued, and NO one gives me any pretty presents anymore! Is that so much to ask!?"

       Spike watched the Goddess throwing her tantrum in silence, obviously unimpressed. After several moments, Aphrodite finally stopped ranting, and dragged one of her hands through her thick hair, and taking a deep breath. "All right. I'm done."

       "Right...good..." Spike suddenly lunged forward, hand shooting out to grab Aphrodite by the throat, and she let out a surprised squeak as he lifted her off the ground, glaring up at her, and ignoring the alarmed shouts of the servants. "You have five seconds to send me back home, you tarted-up, vapid, intelligence-sucking whore!"

       Aphrodite rolled her eyes, and then disappeared in a shower of gold glitter, only to reappear a safe distance of ten feet from him. "I really resent the name calling!" She snapped at him, tossing her hair regally, "I have half a mind to make you fall in love with some sort of slimy, nasty demon. Oohh...I think Arachne could use a boy-toy right about now...she might eat your head after you mate though...but that's not really my problem, is it? Oh...don't sulk...the pouty thing doesn't work with me, no matter how cute you are."

       Maybe this was hell. He was a bad, horrible, evil man...and for his punishment, he was sent here to put up with the annoying bint for the rest of eternity. He had only been in the room for about ten minutes and he was just about ready to claw his eyes out and drive nails through his eardrums just so he wouldn't have to listen to her grating, whiny voice for a second longer. He growled loudly, raking both hands through his platinum blond locks, cursing his luck and the bitch that was fate. Oh God...what if he really was going to actually become Love's bitch? Damn...why couldn't he EVER keep his damn mouth shut?

       "Oh, will you calm down? As appealing as that thought is, you being my bitch isn't exactly what I had in mind for you," She smirked as she looked him up and down, "Although...now that I think about it..."

       "Don't even bloody well think of finishing that sentence," Spike warned her with a glare, "What do you mean, had in mind for me? This is it, then? Drag me up here for a good laughing at, and then boot my arse down to Hades or Hell or whatever the hell you people wanna call it? Wait...how'd you know...?"

       "You really need to relax, Spike. And yes, I can read your mind. You are a man, after all. You're nature's simplest creature...and, incidentally, stupidest. I swear to Zeus, even the sea cucumber has more brain cells going for it then the average guy does. Heh...funny story about the sea cucumber...at one of Dionysus' annual bashes, Poseidon and I got to talking about Phallic symbols in nature, and how the oceans really didn't have one..." She caught the look on Spike's face, "But...that's beside the point.”

       “Ya think?” Spike replied sarcastically, “Can you get on with it already? Before I lose what little is left of my mind?”

       Aphrodite sighed as she returned to her couch, sinking onto it majestically. She gestured for Spike to join her, and he approached her warily, taking a seat on it as far as he could possibly get from her.

       “Okay, seriously though? I feel for you, I really do,” She told him, ignoring his look of skepticism. “You've been kicked in the balls, figuratively, by the whole love thing. Not that it's my fault or anything. You definitely can't blame me fore the Cecily or Drusilla thing. That was all your own doing…”

       Spike snorted, and she shot him a dirty look, “It's true! It was all your own fault. I mean…I don't know any guy whose worse at the love thing then you. You always fall for the girl you can never possibly have…” She held up her hand when he started to interrupt, “No, it's true, and you can't deny. You fall for the unattainable. I mean, somewhere, in that pea-sized little brain of yours, you had to know the spoiled little rich girl with delusions of grandeur would never look twice at you. Especially with that hair and those glasses…and the poetry?” Aphrodite shuddered, “I mean…come on, really. Even Apollo, the steroid popping, overly muscled, egotistical jerk writes better poetry when he's drunk. Even if it's all about him and the size of his…sun beam. Or even Zeus writes better poetry after…”

       “All right! I get it! My poetry sucks!”

       “Right,” Aphrodite heaved another sigh, “And then there's Drusilla…”

       “Oh…bloody hell…”

       “I mean…come on, Spike, she was a complete wack-job! She may have been a demon, literally, in the sack…but come on. It took sixty years of you guys being together before she finally stopped screaming Angel's name when she climaxed…”

       “She wasn't shouting his name!”

       “Right…honey, I'm sorry…I don't care what she said, but she was screaming `Oh…Angle!' like she told you. When a girl's getting off that good, she's not telling you to change the angle of penetration. I mean…how dense can you be?”

       “Will you just move on, already?”

       “And after Angel came back to the fold, and two seconds later, they were screwing like ferrets on rufies right in front of you on the table…”

       “MOVE ON!”

       “Fine, fine,” Aphrodite shook her head, “You're irritable, you know that right?”

       “I'm about two seconds from twisting your tiny blond head off your shoulders, you know that right?” Spike retorted, and Aphrodite narrowed her eyes at him.

       “You know, you'll catch more bees with honey and not vinegar.”

       “That's flies, not bees, you twit, and I really don't give a crap. All I wanna know is when you're going to reach a point, and when I can go back home to Buffy.”

       “You don't listen well, do you?” Aphrodite asked, “I told you, you're dead.”

       “Yeah, I heard that. I also don't give a shit. I'd fight my way through the armies of heaven and hell to get to her.”

       “Awww…” Aphrodite's facial expression softened a bit, “That's sweet. Overly optimistic, but sweet.” Spike growled at her, eyes flashing yellow, and she held up a hand, “Point, I'm reaching it now.”

       “Good,” Spike relaxed marginally. “Get on with it.”

       “All right…now we're at Buffy…personally, I thought it was absolutely adorable…oh…and also that you were out of your damn mind. Because…you know…Vampire…Vampire Slayer…bad combination here. Never works out too well. Thought for sure I'd manage to do it with Angel and Buffy…but…uh…didn't receive the memo about the soul thing…”

       “Wait, wait…” Spike raised an eyebrow, “You didn't make me fall in love with Buffy…but you made Angel and Buffy fall in love?”

       “Not exactly…I nudged. As a rule, we don't interfere anymore with mortals unless it's special circumstances. Or…um…we get really bored or lose a bet.”

       “Lovely.”

       “Yeah, I'm ashamed on the inside, really,” Aphrodite replied unconvincingly, “But yeah, most often, when complete opposites fall for each other, that's a nudge from me, or Cupid. Not that he's done anything lately. He's been slacking off. However, you were different. As always, you went and fell for whoever the hell you wanted to fall for…and again, unattainable.”

       “She's not, though,” Spike interrupted, “I mean…I was just `attaining' her outside her Watcher's shoppe, for God's sake.”

       “So like a man…you know, there's a difference between actual attainment and sex.”

       “I know that,” Spike glowered at Aphrodite, “But she called me `her man…'”

       Aphrodite's lips turned up slightly in a half-smile, “And to you, that's the same as an affirmation of love?”

       “Not exactly…but I'll take whatever I can get from her,” Spike replied sincerely, “Whatever she'll give me, I'll adore her for.”

       “You would, wouldn't you, you sad, pathetic boy?” Aphrodite shook her head, a look of pity on her face, “You know…if you want me too…I could make her return your feelings completely. I don't mean in the insane love-slave way that you cast a spell for, but enough to ensure she'd never leave or hurt you. Don't you think you deserve that after all you've been through? The amount of times you had your heart broken, not just by her, but by everyone else? It's not like she'll even know the difference…”

       “Yeah, but I would,” Spike glared at her, “And she doesn't deserve that...” Spike looked away then, “Neither do I.”

       Aphrodite studied him interestedly at that, her head cocking to the side. He was a strange, somewhat bewildering creature…especially for a male one. “You knew you were going to die the moment you started running for that window…”

       Spike looked back at her, frowning slightly, “Yeah, so?”

       “So…why do it?” Aphrodite asked him, “You and Buffy both could have probably gotten away alive. So, why did you rush the window?”

       “They knew Joyce and the nibblet were in the basement…”

       “Yeah, but so what?” Aphrodite asked in a dismissive tone of voice, “They don't really matter, do they? In the scheme of things, anyway. You and Buffy could've gotten away and been just fine.”

       Spike glared at Aphrodite, “Yes, it would have bloody mattered!”

       “Not to you…and Buffy would've eventually gotten over it…”

       “Yes, it would have bloody mattered to me!” Spike snapped, whirling to his feet angrily, “Wouldn't let anything happen to Joyce…she's a fine lady…and…and the bit size one, she's okay, as mortals go. Bit strange…I'd admit…but…but it woulda killed her…the Slayer, I mean. Lose both her mum and little sis…it'd kill her. She needs them more then she'll ever bloody well need me.”

       “So…you gave your life for Buffy and her family?” Aphrodite asked, her face unreadable. “You're really stupid, you know that…”

       Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “Right…of course…I'm a soddin' moron, I know this already. Could you just tell me what's going to happen to me? One-way ticket to hell? Pushing a rock up a soddin' hill for all eternity?”

       “Oh, no, they already got Sisyphus doing that. But Hades is thinking of starting a new `Transsexual operations slash body piercing performed by angry lesbians and gays' division. He's already got Jerry Falwell and the members of the KKK and Sons of Liberty reserved for that. He could always use volunteers for the scrotum piercing…and he's heard good things about your work with a spike. You interested? It wouldn't entail much. You'd just have to wear a leather bustier and a garter belt.”

       “Oh, Christ…” Spike groaned, covering his face with his hands, “This isn't happening.”

       “I take that as a no, then?” Aphrodite smiled at him, leaning back against her couch, and let out a heavy sigh, “Guess that means I have to send you back to where you came from…”

       Spike slowly lowered his hands, staring at Aphrodite uncomprehendingly, “Huh?”

       “Me…send…you…back…” She repeated slowly for his benefit.

       “What...?” Spike shook his head in bewilderment, “You're…sending me back? Why?”

       “Oh…I always intended to send you back…”

       “WHAT?!” Spike gaped at her, “After…ALL of that YAPPING and verbal TORTURE, and you were always going to send me back?!”

       “It wasn't for my benefit, let me tell you,” Aphrodite replied, “I mean, you're rude, you're making my couch reek of cigarette smoke, and you're kind of abusive…”

       “Then for whose benefit was it for?” Spike asked through clenched teeth, “Cause, let me tell you…it definitely wasn't for mine! I will return to life immensely more dense then when I LEFT it just from knowing you!”

       “Well…that was uncalled for,” Aphrodite sniffed, “Actually, it was for your benefit, smart ass. The point, as you so much wanted to know, was to give Buffy enough time to contemplate on what you meant to her and how her world is much worse off without you in it.”

       Spike blinked slowly at that, “Oh. Well. Actually…yeah…that is rather beneficial…”

       “Well…DUH!” Aphrodite smiled evilly, “But, you realize, that now I'm going to have to repay you for your rudeness.”

       “What? What are you going to…?” Spike flinched as he was suddenly surrounded by a bright, blinding light, and he covered his eyes again, “Bloody hell!”

       Aphrodite's shrill laughter echoed around him,  and then he heard, “Damn, but this is going to be fun.”

       The light cut out as suddenly as it appeared, and Spike blinked, lowering his hands, leaving him in a dimly lit place. He squinted, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden change, and he frowned when he heard loud gasps.

       He blinked several times, eyes finally adjusting, and then they widened when he saw he was standing at the head of a room, a group of people sitting in chairs and all dressed in black. Faces became visible, and he was surprised to see the entire Scooby gang staring up at him, looking stunned; Joyce and the nibblet were also there, as well as several demons he knew from the bar and Dave, and…Angel and Drusilla?!

       Drusilla was sitting beside Angel, gaping up at him, looking more confused then usual, while the grand poof was staring at him with wide eyes, his mouthing hanging open. Spike took another glance around, not noticing the way Tara was covering her face, or the way Joyce was jerking Dawn towards her to cover her daughter's eyes. Buffy wasn't there, and he felt a thread of disappointment.

       “Sp-Spike?” Joyce finally ventured out, staring up at him like he was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, and he glanced at her. “You're…you're dead…” She said, still in a bit of shock, “I mean…really dead…and…um…really…really… naked…”

       Spike glanced down, his own eyes going wide when he saw that he was actually, really, really,  naked! “OH! BLOODY HELL!” Spike ducked behind a podium, grabbing the book on top of it off to cover his privates. That only elicited a pained howl from him, as it was the St. James version of the Holy Bible.

       Angel, Giles, Xander, and the other male members of the gathering winced in sympathy as Spike danced away from the podium, cradling himself, “Oh! Christ! I burned my dick off!”

       “SPIKE! Language!” Joyce shouted, and then held Dawn's head firmly when she tried to pull away to take a peek.

       “Moooommmmm! Come on! Everyone else gets to look!”

       Spike whirled around at that, staring in Dawn's direction in shock. However, he overbalanced himself, and he fell back into a display of flowers. He knocked over a metal canister and he swore when he was suddenly covered in a fine sifting of dust.

       “Spike fell into Spike!” Xander shouted, and then glanced at Giles, “Why is Spike falling into Spike?”

       “Little help here, you bloody gits?!”

       “Right…uh…right…” Giles got to his feet, shrugging out of his long, black jacket, and went towards Spike. Spike grabbed it out of his hands, and slipped the jacket on, firmly belting it around his waist with a mumbled thanks.

       “My Spike is back!” Drusilla suddenly cried in delight, and he looked in her direction, his frown deepening as he ran a  hand through his hair, dislodging a thick misting of dust from it.

       “Bloody great…the stupid bint popped me off in an alternate dimension for a soddin' laugh…I'm going to kill her next time I see her.”

       “He's alternate dimension Spike!” Xander exclaimed, looking very triumphant, and then he looked panic, “Oh, God…he's going to kill us!”

       Spike glared in his direction, but was then nearly thrown off balance when Dawn flew at him, throwing her arms around his waist, “Spike! You're alive! Sorta!” She exclaimed happily, “Buffy's going to be sooo surprised!”

       “Uh…good to see you too, Pidge,” Spike gently disentangled himself from her, mindful that he was naked just beneath a thin layer of coat and he didn't want to traumatize her any further. He glanced around at the display of flowers he had fallen into, eyebrow raising when he saw his name on a banner, and then an urn lying overturned on the ground. “Bloody hell…I'm at my funeral! When she said `time for reflection,' I thought she meant like…twenty minutes.”

       “Spike…what exactly is happening here?” Giles asked, eyeing the vampire suspiciously, but Spike was distracted by Joyce, Willow, Tara and Anya all rushing up to envelope him in hugs.

       “Spike! I'm glad you're back!” Anya said sincerely, “And not trying to steal my boyfriend. Cause Xander's mine!”

       Spike tried to get away from the gaggle of women hanging all over him, looking very flustered as he failed to do so. “Hey! All right! Give the recently dead now unliving man a bit of room to breath, eh? And someone tell me how long I've been dead?”

       “You've been gone for a week,” Joyce said, finally backing off, but still holding on to one of his arms, as Dawn clung to the other. She reached up, and twisted his head so that he was looking over her as she poked and prodded him with her free hand, “You feel real, so I guess I'm not dreaming,” She smiled before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear, “You gave your live for ours, Spike…thank you…”

       “Uh…right…” Spike looked down at the ground, kicking at it with his barefoot, and he frowned slightly, “Oh…the bitch stole my shoes too?! I LIKED those boots!”

       “Spike…” Spike glanced up to see Angel watching him impassively, and he grinned sheepishly.

       “Uh…hey Peaches…”

       “Thank God you're alive,” Angel said, throwing Spike off guard but then he lunged forward, “Now I get to kill you!”

       Spike yelped, and ducked under Angel's outstretched arms, and whirling into a fighting position behind him, “Now, now, Peaches…it was all a simple misunderstanding…”

       “Misunderstanding, my ass! You put a LOVE SPELL on me!”

       “Oh, don't flatter yourself,” Spike grabbed Willow and put her between him and Angel, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from the redhead, “Sorry, Peaches, but you're just not my type.”

       “Cut it out!” Giles demanded, “Angel, try to contain yourself. This behavior is rather unbecoming for this particular setting…uh…even if the funeral is…rather a moot point now.”

       “It won't be moot in a second…”

       “What's wrong, lovely? Shed a few tears for ole Spike, huh? Ruin the broody, manly exterior for the ladies?”

       “No jury would convict me…” Angel lunged forward, and Willow tore herself out of Spike's grasp, leaving him vulnerable.

       “Hey! Now!” Spike jumped to the side, landing on top of a chair, and balanced precariously on it, “Watcher's right, mate…no need to act like the uncivilized bog-trotter you really are.”

       “Just keep talkin', boy. You're only digging your grave even deeper…”

       “Better then the bullshit you're always shoveling,” Spike grinned as Angel took another leap at him, gracefully hopping over several rows of chairs, and Xander yelped, covering his eyes as the coat exposed more then he wanted to see ever again.

       “Spike, chill, man,” Dave said, still sitting in his seat, Spike's flask in his hand, apparently a little too drunk to really register what was going on. “Good to have my best customer back, by the way.”

       “Spike! Angel!” Joyce's sharp reprimand caused both vampires to pause, and she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the both of them, “Angel, sit down…and watch Drusilla...” Angel glanced at Drusilla, sighing when he saw she had put Giles in a thrall, and was currently making out with him. “And Spike…”

       Spike got down off the seat, ducking his head slightly, “Right…sorry, mum…”

       Joyce smiled at him, raising an eyebrow, “I think you have someone to find, don't you?”

       Spike frowned slightly, and then a grin bloomed over his face when he got at who Joyce was getting at. He shot her a salute, and then sprinted towards the door while Angel was distracted.

       Xander looked after Spike in confusion, “Where is he going?” His eyes widened as he looked at Joyce, “Does this mean we're not having the after funeral refreshments now?” A look of disappointment crossed his face, “You said there was going to be pot roast and cake! Dammit, Spike! Why'd you have to come back before dessert?”

       Anya sighed, glancing at Joyce in embarrassment, “Sorry…sometimes he doesn't think before he speaks…”

       Joyce smiled at her reassuringly, patting her on the shoulder, “That's all right, dear…and yes, Xander, we'll still have cake…at Mr. Giles' home instead.”

       “Why Giles'?” Xander asked in puzzlement. Anya and Joyce exchanged a knowing look, not bothering to answer Xander's question. “Mrs. Summers? Anya? Hellloooo…I'm asking a question here…”

       Buffy felt glued to her sheets.

       She was sweaty, a bit sticky, her hair was greasy, and her teeth felt fuzzy. And she was pretty sure she smelt as funky as she felt.

       She dazedly remembered Angel dragging her out of the front yard, where she had desperately been trying to rake Spike's ashes into a pile, as if by doing so, they'd magically reform and become Spike again. It had been an empty, delusional hope….but hope, nevertheless. She remembered fighting him, kicking at him, punching at him, biting him when those didn't work. Her mother had appeared after that and invited Angel in, and he had taken her to her room. She had collapsed onto the bed, sobbing in shuddering, painful spasms. Angel had left then, to where, she didn't know or care about, and her mother and Dawn had come in.

       They had both held her and cried themselves, and the first night, they spent the night, cradling her between them. In the morning, they had left, to carry on with their lives. Buffy had locked the door behind them, and had lain in her bed since then. She had ignored whoever had come to her door after that, whether it was her mom, Dawn, Giles, Angel, Xander, Anya, Tara and Willow. Out of desperation, they had even tried to use Drusilla to hypnotize her through the door to come and open it. It didn't work.

       She only ignored them, covering her head with a pillow when they became too loud. She wouldn't even open the door for food, and only came out very late at night to use the bathroom, but she was always back in her room before her mom could jump her in the hallway after hearing the toilet flush.

       Right now, her mom and Dawn were gone…at Spike's funeral. They had tried to coax her out for that, but she refused, feeling a sick, stabbing pain in her stomach when she thought of it. She as good as killed him…what right did she have to attend his funeral?

       Buffy curled into herself, a harsh sob racking her small frame, her throat burning as tears squeezed themselves out of her red-rimmed eyes. When the sobs had subsided a tiny bit, she reached for the box of tissues on her bed, and blew her stuffed nose, her shoulders still shaking. It was it. Tonight was it. They'd say their goodbyes to Spike…most of them not even caring he was dead, (she knew Xander was only going because her mother had promised to make cake,) and that'd be it…they'd move on with their lives and expect her too as well.

       She didn't think she could do it.

       Even when she had lost Angel, it hadn't hurt this badly. At least, when he died, he knew that she loved him…and he died because of a situation he had created. He had opened Acaltha, and he had to be killed to close it. Spike had died because he had tried to protect her mother and sister. True, it was a situation he had created, but…he didn't have to sacrifice himself for her or her family. And God…it hurt…it hurt so damn much…and they had only been together for not even a day.

       And he didn't know…she didn't even know…she didn't know till she had clutched his ashes in her hands…the truth of what she felt about him. It had come to her right then, with horribly sharp clarity…that she loved him. She loved him and he was dead. Gone forever. No miracles over a Hell-Mouth for her this time. Not ever again.

       Her sobs hitched in her chest as she mumbled into her pillow, over and over again, what she couldn't…didn't say to him in life, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear her…hear her and be comforted…happy…that she loved him…

       God, she could almost feel him, the strength of his arms, the sound of his voice, dripping with concern and alarm as he called her  name, whispering that he loved her too, that it was all right, he wasn't going anywhere ever again.

       It took Buffy nearly ten minutes to realize she wasn't dreaming or delusional.

       That he was really there, holding her in his arms, whispering that he loved her too, that it was all right, he wasn't going anywhere ever again.

       Buffy lifted her head slowly from his chest, looking up into his sweet face, his crystal blue eyes staring down into hers, tears standing in his own eyes. He smiled down at her when he saw she was slowly joining the rest of the cast and crew in reality. “Hey, luv,” He greeted softly, grinning when she threw her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in his throat with another sob, uncaring of the liquids she was rubbing against his skin.

       “You're not here…you're dead, you can't be here,” She whispered against his throat, eyes squeezed shut as she clutched at him even tighter, in a grip that would have snapped a mortal's man neck. “You can't be here…”

       “I'm here, pet, I'll always be here…” He promised her softly, holding her just as tightly, “Can't keep me away from you.”

       She smiled, sniffling as she lifted her head, but she didn't let go of him for even half a second. She met his gaze once more, her body trembling slightly. She was still afraid he was going to disappear in a puff of smoke and she'd be all alone again, “Don't do that to me ever again,” She said in a wavering tone, trying to sound demanding, and Spike chuckled, brushing a strand of greasy hair out of her face.

       “Not even if Satan himself came to collect me,” He told her solemnly, his heart lightening when she giggled, resting her head against his chest once more. He rubbed her back as they just held each other in silence for several moments. He noted the way he could feel her ribs through her skin, and that she looked like she had lost at least ten pounds since he had last seen her. It also smelled as if she hadn't bathed in the time he had been gone as well, but he wasn't going to complain. He loved Buffy scent in all it's shapes and forms…even if this one was a little ripe. “When's the last time you ate, m'love?”

       “Since before you died,” She whispered, her grip tightening once more, “Feels like forever…”

       “Forever or not,” He smiled as he stood, carrying her downstairs in his arms, “How `bout I tell you a story while I fix you a sandwich?”

       Buffy self-consciously pulled at a strand of greasy hair, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched Spike stand in front of the open fridge door, piling the sandwich fixings in his arms. Now that she no longer had a reason to hide out in her room and forget there was a room filled with food in her house, she had become a little too aware of her appearance. She was still smudged in Spike's ashes, her face covered in streaks of gray, her hair needed to be combed, desperately, scrub her teeth with a steel-wool pad and she needed to really scrub the sweaty, musky scent off of her skin.

       Yet, when Spike turned and smiled at her, he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the world. It almost made her forget she hadn't seen a bar of soap in over six days…but only almost. She watched him as he prepared her a huge sandwich she couldn't possibly finish, with every sort of sandwich meat he had found in the fridge. She didn't know how she felt about a ham/pastrami/roast beef/bologna/turkey sandwich, but she'd eat as much as she could so not to hurt his feelings. However, if he hauled out the tuna and peanut butter, she'd have to draw the line.

       Luckily, she needn't had worried, since even Spike seemed to know that would have been an unnatural combination of sandwich makings. “Thanks,” Buffy said as he set it down in front of her, eyeing the mile-high stacked sandwich, trying to decide which was the best method of attack. She finally ended up squashing it flat with her palm, and took a tentative bite. As it hit her stomach, she suddenly noticed how truly ravenous she really was and started to gobble it down swiftly, all the while, listening with amazement to Spike's story, interrupting every once in a while to ask him a question; with her mouth full.

       Soon, Spike's story and her sandwich were done for, and Spike grinned as he used his thumb to wipe a dollop of mayonnaise off of her face, absently sucking his thumb into his mouth after doing so. “Think you could tackle another one?” He asked her, a concerned look crossing his face, “You're liable to blow away in a stiff wind.”

       Buffy looked down at her empty plate, surprise registering in her mind, “Oh God…I ate that entire thing?”

       “Surprised you didn't choke, the way you wolfed,” Spike teased, leaning forward to brush a kiss across her lips, drawing back abruptly when she turned her head away.

       “Sorry…it's not…” Buffy looked down at her ragged, bitten fingernails, wondering if the heat of her blush was showing beneath all the dirt on her face, “It's not you…it's just…I'm all smelly and dirty…”

       Spike caught her chin and forced her to look back up at him, smiling gently as he successfully brushed a kiss across her lips, saying softly, “Not all…you always look beautiful and smell heavenly to me, m'love…” He watched as an almost shy smile bloomed across Buffy's lips, and added with a rakish grin, “'Course…I would be partial to running you a bath and bathing you m'self…”

       Buffy snorted, raising an eyebrow at him, “Somehow, I don't think that's conducive to a clean Buffy…”

       “Oh, you'd be a very clean Buffy,” He promised, brushing another kiss across her lips, teasingly running his tongue along her lower lip before pulling back just a few millimeters, “A very thoroughly cleaned Buffy. Not...one…single…spot…untouched…a squeaky…clean…Buffy…” He rained kisses along her jaw, cheeks and eyelids with each word, thwarting her efforts to get his lips to return to hers. He suddenly leapt away from her and towards the fridge and he wrenched open the freezer door, glancing around and grinning when he found what he was looking for.

       Buffy raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a carton of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer, taking a spoon from the cupboard as well. He glanced at her, grinning wickedly as he swatted her backside, “Come on then.”

       “So…Aphrodite is a complete ditz?” Buffy asked, grinning around the spoon in her mouth, giggling as Spike very thoroughly scrubbed between her toes with a washcloth, being true to his promise of a completely squeaky clean Buffy, only pausing in his duty long enough to take a bite of the ice cream Buffy offered him.

       “Not sure…seemed like it, but she sometimes seemed sharper then she was letting on,” Spike replied, “But she was completely annoying, all the same. Felt like I dropped a couple IQ points just listening to her babble about sea cucumbers and what-not.”

       “Sea cucumbers?” Buffy giggled as Spike tickled the bottom of her foot with the clothe, “So, while I was lying in bed, all pathetic, wasting away because I lost my love…you were having a discussion about sea cucumbers with the Goddess of Love?”

       “Wasn't so much a conversation as a tangent,” Spike said, working up towards her calves now, and he looked up at her sharply, “You were wasting away because why?”

       “Because…I…” She pretended to hesitate, and tried to distract him with a spoonful of ice cream, but only received a growl for her efforts, and she giggled at the look of mock ire on his face. “Because I…” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his temple and whispering in his ear, “Lost my…love…”

       Spike turned his head in a lightning fast move, capturing her lips, and Buffy moaned as his tongue probed her mouth almost desperately. Squeaky clean Buffy was forgotten in favor of Completely Aroused Buffy. He tried to angle himself in a less awkward position, propping himself on the rim of the tub, deepening the kiss.

       Buffy wrapped her arms around him, and in trying to draw him closer to her, upset his balance, and he half tumbled into the tub. Amid splashes and her giggles, he wriggled his way into the tub, and out of the long jacket Giles had lent him, and Buffy's eyes widened when she saw what was beneath it…or more specifically, what wasn't. “Why are you running around town practically naked?”

       “Bit of a joke, actually,” Spike replied, “The dozy bint upstairs decided it'd be funny to drop me off right in the middle of my funeral…without a stitch on me.”

       Buffy burst out laughing, imagining the look on everyone's faces to suddenly see the man they were supposed to be mourning appear right in the middle of the proceedings, naked as the day he was born.

       “Tried to cover m'self with the Bible too…very bad move…” Spike scowled as that just caused Buffy to laugh even harder, the girl almost choking. “Oh, y'think it's funny? The Good Book nearly singeing off my privates?”

       “Y-yes,” Buffy stuttered out, body shaking with laughter, when only an hour and a half before, it had shook with sobs.

       “Evil girl,” Spike growled in her ear, grinning when her laughter immediately cut off as he thrust against her thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressing against her. Her breath caught in her throat, and her wide, hazel eyes flew up to meet his shining, mischievous ones. “What? No more making fun of poor, burned little Spike?”

       Buffy answered him by fisting her fingers in his hair and dragging his head back down to hers, pressing a hard, almost brutal kiss to his lips before ordering, “My bed. Now.”

       Spike chuckled, getting up with some effort out of the tub, body dripping water. Buffy stood and he grabbed her by the hips, yanking her against him another hard, fast kiss before he lifted her and carried her into her bedroom. Together, the collapsed to on the bed, bodies pressing together, tongues dueling together as they held onto each other almost desperately.

       “Now…please…” Buffy pleaded, her fingers digging into his forearms, “Need you now…” She dug her fingernails into his flesh when he tried to reach between them, “Now!”

       “Bossy brat,” Spike muttered beneath his breath as he positioned himself between her legs, and was a bit surprised when he slid into her slick warmth with little preparation. She smiled at the almost amazed look on his face as she hooked her legs around his waist, opening herself wider for him.

       Spike began to thrust into her, hard and fast, just needing to feel her quiver around him, feel her legs tighten around his rib-cage with bone-cracking force, to see the pleasure suffuse her face, to hear her scream his name. Slow, tender, would come later, but right now, he just needed to feel her, and she needed to feel him, to feel he was real and with her, to beat back the grief and sadness with his thrusts and hard pants of unnecessary breath. “Love you,” He forced out in harsh breaths, “Love you, Buffy…tell me…tell me…please, luv…”

       Buffy arched her back as she met his thrusts, his hard flesh rippling against her body, his length stabbing inside her with bruising intensity, his eyes wide, and completely open to her, seeming to swallow her whole in their dark depths. Her entire body tingled, her womb burned as her orgasm built. “Spike…Spike…” She felt her entire body tense as his pelvic bone crashed into her clit, and then she was screaming, babbling incoherently as she came. “Spike…love you…my Spike…William…love you…love you…only you…”

       Spike followed her not seconds later, coming in several hard, almost painful bursts, flooding her with his semen. He collapsed onto Buffy, face pressing against chest. He tried to roll off of her, but she refused to let go, legs holding him to her tightly. Only when she was sure he wasn't going to move again, she released his waist, rubbing her cheek against his white-blond hair. “Just want to feel you on me…in me,” She explained quietly, “So I know it's really not a dream.”

       He kissed a warm, sweat-slicked breast that was near his face, “S'always like a dream too me…” He muttered, tilting his head upwards to gaze into her face, “When…when did you decide you loved me?” He asked, almost self-consciously.

       Buffy smiled sadly as she brought one of her hands up to run through his tousled locks, combing through them almost absently, “When I held your ashes in my hands and finally realized you weren't coming back...but stupid me, I forgot that I can never get rid of you, not matter what.”

       “Damn straight,” Spike said in suddenly fierceness, rolling them so suddenly that Buffy felt vertigo tug at her, but Spike was still buried inside her, and steadied her. He sat up as she slowly began to ride against him, hand resting against the back of her neck as he kissed her deeply, slowly, tenderly, exploring every contour of her mouth thoroughly. “Never get rid of me,” He said hoarsely, breaking the kiss, looking up into her beautiful, flushed face, “I will never leave you of my own free will, and your will is my will, my love, my Goddess, my Queen…my divine, sun-kissed Queen…”

       Buffy smiled radiantly, whispering, “That's…that's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me…” She drew him back up into another kiss, as they continued to languidly love each other.

       Huh…and the silly twit said I sucked at this poetry shit…

The End

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