Part One

       "Hard-working, industrious worker wanted..." Buffy read aloud, "$500 a night...oh, like that...experience needed...I got tons of that..."

       Spike took a drag on his cigarette, eyeing her warily as he snatched the classifieds out of the Slayer's hands, looking down at the ad she circled, "Um...pet? This is for an escort service..."

       "I can escort...I date...Well, I have experience in dating!"

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "Luv, not that kind of escort..."

       "What? What kind of escort...?" Buffy groaned as Spike raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Ewwww..."

       "Not that you wouldn't earn more then that..."

       "Once again...EEEWWW!" Buffy grabbed the newspaper from him, and slapped him upside the head with it as he smirked at her.

       "I got five on me right now...I was gonna buy some fags...but since you're in a bind..."

       Buffy snorted, "You're supposed to be helping...if you're not going to be serious..."

       "Fine, fine..." Spike put on a straight face as he hopped on a tombstone, "My opinion is that you wait on selling your body till I get to the bank. I hate sloppy seconds..." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, and Spike held up his hands, "All right. I'm done. Promise."

       "Good," Buffy looked down at the paper, "There's waitressing at that Fifties diner..." Buffy grimaced, "I think they make you wear poodle skirts..."

       Spike shuddered, "There's a bit of Americana I coulda done without," The vampire muttered, shaking his head, "At least Dru rubbed some blood on her poodle's snout."

       "Drusilla wore poodle skirts?"

       "What can I say?" Spike shrugged with a grin, "She was insane."

       "What's everyone else's excuse?" Buffy shook her head, "Definitely last resort. Just above working the corner...but just."

       Spike chuckled, taking the paper from her, and glancing through them quickly, "Well...there's a hairdresser job..."

       "I have to actually attend school to do that, Spike."

       "What? Since when?"

       "They call them cosmetologists. They have trade schools."

       "Damn. I remember the days when the barber was a dentist too..."

       "Yeah, yeah, and you had to walk five hours, all uphill, in the snow, barefoot, to find a victim."

       "Haha, smart-ass," Spike pulled a grimace at her, but it was playful as he turned his attention back to the paper, scooting over a bit as Buffy sat on the tombstone with him. "Let's see...pet store..."

       "Animals hate me."

       "McDonald's?"

       "Grease equals pimples."

       "Teacher's aide?"

       "Dropped out of college."

       "Babysitter?"

       "Little kids are the spawn of Satan."

       Spike looked at her in exasperation, "Are you always this picky?"

       "I'm not picky...I'm choosy..."

       "Uhuh...I'm going to buy you a thesaurus, Slayer..."

       "Why? You think I'm going to read it like you did, nerd-boy?"

       "See if I ever tell you anything again!"

       "Oh...I'm sorry...I know immortality can be boring...oh wait...you did that BEFORE you died."

       Spike growled at her, "Keep that up, pet, and you're going to be looking into your new career as an organ donor."

       "Haha. Oh!" Buffy looked excited, "I could be a cop!"

       "You? A cop?" Spike snorted.

       "Hey, don't scoff. I'll have you know, when I took the career test in school, they said I could be a cop...they help people and stuff...well, except for the one at Career Day who shot at me."

       "The cop tried to shoot you?"

       "Well, duh," Buffy gave him a look, "She was working for your little assassin group."

       "Whoops?"

       "Hmmpphh..." Buffy cocked her head slightly, "How hard can it be, really? I mean...running after people...catching them...beating them up..."

       "Oh? So you're joining the LAPD?"

       Buffy gave him a look, then let out a snort that was almost a laugh, "My point was that I'm a natural. With my slaying abilities, I actually have an edge..."

       "Luv...I don't know...sometimes they have to shoot to kill...I mean...at people...is that seriously something you could do? You couldn't even do in that Ben chap, and he was harboring Glory..."

       "Oh..." Buffy frowned slightly, "Well...it's not like there's a lot of shootings in Sunnydale. Actually, I'm pretty sure our police force sit on their butts all day and eat donuts...but they get paid. Which is the real big attraction here."

       Spike sighed, shaking his head slightly, "I don't know, Buffy...but if this is something you want to do...I completely support you."

       She smiled at him slowly as she stood up, "Thanks. I really need that right now."

       Spike watched as she started to head home, then turned his face upwards, "Please, God...if this doesn't work...let her get that job as an escort..."

       "I heard that, William!"

       Spike grinned, winking at her before standing and sweeping towards his crypt, and the Slayer shook her head slightly with a smile, turning towards home.

       "All right, recruits!" The instructor barked at the lined up trainees. Buffy stood between two huge hulking men, only coming up to their chests. Her golden, blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she was dressed in tight, dark blue shorts and a t-shirt that had the SDPD logo on the breast. "Line up, and let me look at you, you filthy little maggots!"

       Buffy leaned over a bit to look at him, and he was on her in a second, screaming in her face, "Are you looking for something, recruit?!" He shouted, and Buffy closed her eyes as spittle flew in her face.

       "A spit guard..." She muttered beneath her breath, and the instructor drew back angrily, and she cursed her big mouth.

       "DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME FIFTY!"

       Buffy rolled her eyes, and dropped down, starting to do pushups as he looked down the line, "Let this be a lesson, you scum-sucking, sorry excuses for human beings! Don't talk unless you are spoken too...don't look unless I tell you too look! You don't even breathe unless I tell you to breath! GOT THAT?!"

       Buffy stood up, finished with even having broken a sweat, and he looked towards her, "I SAID FIFTY!"

       "I did fifty."

       "THEN DO FIFTY MORE! COUNT THEM OFF!"

       Buffy rolled her eyes, and went back to the ground, swiftly doing pushups, sarcastically switching to one-handed mid-way through, then bounced to her feet.

       "I see we have a smart-ass here," The instructor glared at Buffy, "Well, smart ass, If you're so amazing, do you think you could take me?! Or afraid you'll mess up your pretty head of hair?!"

       Buffy's eyes narrowed, and then her fist shot out of her own volition, and he hit the ground, unconscious.

       Buffy stood over his prone body, shaking her head slightly as she knelt a bit as he groggily opened his eyes, "Wow...and I didn't even break a nail." He grunted as she stepped on his chest to get over him, and stalked away. Maybe Spike was right...she was definitely not law-enforcement material.

       Spike was sitting in his chair, reading a book as Buffy came in, still dressed in the shirt and shorts they had given her, and he raised an eyebrow as he lit up a cigarette, "How'd it go?"

       She sighed as she plopped down on the couch across from him, muttering an obscenity beneath her breath in reply, "That good, huh? Well, no worries...you'll find something..." Spike said, starting to read again, "There's some coke in the fridge if you want it."

       "Thanks..." Buffy got up and went towards the mini-fridge, choosing not to note the prominence of real, people food and drinks that were non-alcoholic inside it, with Spike's blood bags shoved to the side. She only grabbed a coke and an apple, sitting back down on the couch. "It was like G.I. Jane...'cept I didn't have the urge to stop waxing my legs and shave my head."

       "Pity that," Spike replied, "I fancy you'd look good with the Sinead O'Connor style..."

       She tossed her apple at him, and he caught it without looking up from his book.

       "Spike...it's upside down."

       "I know," The vampire replied, looking up at her, "I like reading them like that...or I'll go through them too fast during the day." Buffy stared at him for several seconds, and he lifted an eyebrow, "What?"

       "You're too weird."

       "I'm weird? Who's sitting here with a vampire in a dank, dirty crypt on a perfectly beautiful day?" Spike sat his book aside, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned forward, his face crossing with a serious look, "Buffy...I want to talk to you about something..."

       Buffy's eyes widened slightly. Oh God...not this...not now...

       "I gotta go..." She stood suddenly, making a swift break for the door, and Spike jumped to his feet.

       "Buffy!"

       She turned, shaking her head, her eyes wide, "I can't do this, Spike...don't you understand? I just can't..."

       "Buffy, it's not..."

       "Night, Spike..." Buffy raced out the door, leaving the vampire to stare after her.

       Buffy let herself into the house, listening to Giles argue with a bill collector on the phone, closing her eyes as she leaned against the doorway, catching her breath. She had ran all the way from the cemetery as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.

       She knew it had to be coming. She didn't want it too...but she knew he could only wait so long before he had to start asking questions. But why now? He knows I can't deal with this right now! She lamented. Since she had been back, he had been one of her closest friends.

       A rock for her to lean against when she was feeling weak, and just wanted it all to end again. A sympathetic ear when she just wanted to talk. He knew when she just wanted to mope, and remained silent, just sitting with her, and he knew when she needed cheering up, and he would make her laugh. He understood not only that she was the Slayer...but he also understood WHO she was, apart from the Slayer. It was almost ironic that her greatest enemy was now her best friend, even above Willow.

       Buffy sighed, shaking her head slightly. He had already become indispensable to her...and her day wasn't complete unless she had a chance to be with him alone. Sometimes, she was with him twice a day, and those were the days she didn't dream about heaven, and wake up crying for what she had lost.

       She couldn't deal with anything having to do with love or romance or anything. She just...needed him. That was it...why he wanted to discuss anything of the sort right now was beyond her.

       "Buffy?" Giles' voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and she smiled wanly at the Watcher, "How did it go?"

       "Did you get the morning paper?" She asked by way of an answer, and Giles sighed, shaking his head slightly.

       "Buffy..."

       "I know, I blew it, Giles..."

       "Buffy...you can't screw around now...I can pay some...but not all of the bills...I can't spend the rest of my life in Su...on the couch..."

       She looked at him sharply at his near slip-up, pushing away from the door, "I got it, Giles," She said a trifle coldly, starting up the stairs to her room.

       "Buffy..." Giles called out, but she ignored him, and he sighed deeply as he glanced at the now ringing phone. Ah...bloody hell...

       Buffy scratched at her large, padded bra, her hair piled up on her head in the parody of a bouffant hairdo. Her poodle skirt was rough and scratchy cotton, and she was sweating to death in her stupid costume.

       A notepad was tucked in the pocket of her apron, and she pulled it out as she waited on a group of rowdy college guys. At least she had some experience waitressing in LA...but she remembered now why she hated it. Everyone tipped lousy, and she was paid less then minimum wage.

       She sighed as she turned, gritting her teeth together when one of the boys grabbed her ass, resulting in raucous laughter.

       She stuck the piece of paper on a spinning wheel, and sent it towards the kitchen side, taking a few plates, and bringing them to a table with two elderly people at it. They immediately started complaining, and she had to bring the meal back to the kitchen. She had only been working there for two days, and already she was ready to fling her fake boobs at the manager and tell him to shove her job where the sun didn't shine.

       Her night just couldn't get any worse.

       "Summers, table five is yours," A bored hostess ordered, and Buffy nodded, heading towards a table in the back, then froze with a groan.

       "What are you doing here?"

       "Bein' traumatized, apparently..." Spike replied, staring at her huge chest, "Good Lord...what in the bleedin' hell is that?"

       "About sixty pounds of padding," Buffy replied, "What are you doing here?'

       "I got a bit hungry, and heard that there was a cute little blond workin' here," Spike replied with a rakish grin, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

       "Spike, we don't serve what you eat here. Take my word for it."

       "Hey, I eat normal food."

       "We don't have blooming onions either."

       "Really? What kind of crappy establishment is this?"

       "Spike...you're going to get me in trouble."

       "Fine, fine," He smiled as he looked over the menu, "What do you recommend?"

       "McDonald's...two blocks down, big golden arch...can't miss it."

       "Haha...I'll take the special..."

       "It's your funeral," Buffy said, then tapped her pencil against her lips, "Oh, right...you already had one of those. We should start a club...we could call it...The Undead Poet's Society."

       "Ha bloody ha. Maybe you should be a comedienne, pet. 'Cause you're just soo hilarious."

       "I could be a super heroine," Buffy thrust out her chest, "I got the measurements."

       Spike burst out laughing, then glanced around when everyone started staring at him, and he cleared his throat, "Better run along, luv. Those fogies look about ready to take a chomp out of you."

       "Old people are the spawn of Satan."

       "I thought that was children."

       "Well...same thing...it's kind of a backward spiral, I'm thinking."

       "Not all of us can stay young and beautiful," Spike said, batting his eyelashes at her coyly, and Buffy snorted, "Anything to drink with your meal, sir?"

       "Sure...just cut up one of the chefs, and dribble in the glass..."

       "Coke it is. I'm going to spit in it for that remark."

       "Could you at least bite your lip first...?"

       Buffy grimaced at him, "I'm spitting in your hamburger too."

       "I was kidding!" Spike said as she glided away from the table, grinning as he leaned back in his seat, glad to see a smile on her face once more.

       He watched as she carried a large tray towards the table with the frat boys, scowling when they made crude remarks, but she acidly cut them down, and she winked at him as she passed by again, her mood lifted considerably. Even so, he still checked his coke for spit when he got it.

       Buffy soon came with his food, and slid into the booth across from him, taking her ten minute break, and stealing some of his french fries. "Ugh...this place sucks," She said, "Those old people actually tipped me a dollar. I have mortgages, credit card bills and a kid sister to provide for...and they tip me a buck."

       "I could go corner them in the back...flash them a little game face...they'll drop their wallets and run like hell. Works like a charm..."

       "Yeah, Anya told me about your extracurricular activities. You're not still...?"

       "God, no. I do have some dignity, Slayer," He grimaced, "Stopped doing it around the time I officially joined the good side of the force. Specifically cause I kept thinking about you in that gold bikini Leia wore..."

       Buffy tossed a fry at his head, and he looked at her innocently, "What I say?"

       "Shut it, Deadboy. I'm trying to enjoy your meal."

       "So I see," Spike shook his head as she dug into his food, but didn't protest, "Don't they feed you in this dive?"

       "Nope. We're not supposed to eat on our shifts," Buffy grimaced, "Not that it's a big loss."

       Spike lit a cigarette as he contemplated the blond across from him, wondering if this was a good time to bring up the subject foremost in his mind. He pushed it aside for the moment as she stood up, her break over, "See ya later, Spike. I got to do a patrol."

       "All right," Spike stood, pulling on his duster, and reaching in his pocket, dropping a few bills on the table as Buffy headed towards the back to grab another order that was up.

       The hostess went to clean up the table Spike was at, then glanced down at the money, her eyes lighting up as she pocketed the two fifties, replacing it with a few dollar bills from her apron, glancing at Buffy as she did so, then moved away swiftly.

       Buffy headed over towards Spike's crypt, where they usually met for patrol, pausing as she stood outside the door, listening to Spike argue with someone. She peeked in the crypt, surprised to see Spike on a cell phone, angrily shouting into it in what sounded like French, and she raised an eyebrow.

       Spike hung up with a graphic threat in plain English, tossing the cellphone on the couch, running a hand through his hair, which was standing on end, muttering in annoyance, "Bloody red tape...I'll give you red tape, you froggy bastards..."

       "Spike, it's not nice to call French people that."

       Spike jumped, glancing at Buffy as she came in, "Were you eavesdropping?!"

       "Please...it'd only be eavesdropping if I understood a word you said. Now, if you were talking about touching cows on a weekday...I'd be eavesdropping..."

       Spike frowned slightly, then shook his head, "I'm just going to smile and nod and pretend I understand what you're prattling on about," Spike replied, lighting a cigarette, "Please tell me you're going to change before patrol. I'm not going to be seen in public with you dressed like that. I'm already the laughing stock of the demon-world."

       "Haha, fang breath," Buffy grimaced at him, "I brought a change of clothes. Is there somewhere...?"

       "Downstairs. Don't touch anything."

       "Oh, yeah...cause I'm just dying to touch anything in your dirty little crypt."

       "It's not dirty...well...not since Tara and Willow descended down on me like the tenth plague..."

       "Aww...did the big bad witches make Spike clean his room?" Buffy asked in a cutesy voice and Spike rolled his eyes.

       "Go change."

       "Tooouuccchhhyyyy..." Buffy sang out as she went downstairs.

       She glanced around as she shut the trapdoor to prevent peeking. She hadn't been down there since before she had died, and then it was only filled with dust, bones, a creepy Buffy-shrine, and of course, chains.

       She raised an eyebrow as she glanced around, noting the new additions such as a large, four-poster bed, and weapons lining the walls. There was a bookcase in the corner, filled to the brim with his books, and a small desk beside that, covered in what looked like blueprints and legal papers.

       Before, Spike's crypt had always been bare, without any sort of decoration, as if the vampire was always prepared to be gone in a hurry, without worrying about personal belongings. From the look of things, he was planning on staying for the long haul now.

       Buffy picked up some of the papers, looking over them, then sighed when she saw some were in French, and others in German. She turned her attention to the blueprints, picking one up. It looked like the plans to a castle...but why would Spike want blueprints of a castle?

       She dropped the blueprint when Spike pounded on the trapdoor, "Bloody 'ell, Slayer...you better not be snooping around down there!"

       Buffy shook her head as she swiftly changed, then retorted as she returned upstairs, "Like you can whine about people snooping in your room. Hypocritical much?"

       "Sheesh...steal a few knickers, and you never let a bloke forget..."

       "What? You stole my underwear?!"

       Spike would've blushed if he could, and he cleared his throat, "Um...no. Absolutely not. What kind of weirdo would steal a bird's doilies? Are we gonna patrol or what?"

       "Uhuh..." Buffy eyed Spike warily as he held the door open for her, "I'm going to count my underwear when I get home."

       "Doesn't prove a thing. Buffy-bot coulda lost it," Spike replied, looking a bit panicked, "She was irresponsible like that."

       "You're telling me that a robot lost my underwear?"

       Spike shrugged with a sheepish grin, "Could be."

       "Hmmm..." Buffy eyed the vampire as they headed into the night, "And how many pairs did Buffy-bot lose?"

       "Uh...you know...one or two...probably closer to six..."

       "Spike!"

       "I don't get it..." Buffy looked up at Giles, "I work my ass off all day...and I still can't pay my bills, Giles..."

       "Buffy...uh..." Giles cleaned his glasses, "Being a waitress just isn't raking in the big bucks...and I'm afraid that...you're simply not earning enough to pay the bills..."

       "This sucks..." Buffy pouted, "And people tip lousy."

       "I...do have a bit of a nest egg...not much, since I put so much into the Magic Box..."

       "I can't take your money, Giles," Buffy shook her head, "I'll just have to take more hours...maybe even look for another job...Spike can help with the Slaying at least..."

       "Ah....that brings me to another issue..." Giles cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably, "How...much time have you been spending with Spike, exactly?"

       Buffy looked up at him sharply, "Why is that an issue? It seems like a non-issue at the moment, don't you think?"

       "Buffy..."

       "I mean...my basement looks like the set of Titanic, my sister is thisclose to wearing clothes I steal off vampires, and I just found out that ten, not six pairs of my underwear are missing...Spike? Really not an issue..."

       "I'm...just going to pretend to understand that underwear comment," Giles said in some confusion, "And...perhaps you shouldn't...spend so much time..."

       "Giles, bills...losing my home...can we stick to the basics here?" Buffy asked a trivial coldly, "I got enough to deal with. I don't want new issues on the table till I deal with the old ones."

       Giles shook his head slightly, but gave in as he sat down across from her, "Right now...I suppose we should worry more about the mortgage...power and water won't do us any good if you don't have a place to send it too..."

       "Right...mortgage..." Buffy sighed heavily, "What's it going to cost me?"

       "Well...uh..." Giles gave her a figure, and Buffy's eyes widened, "Giles! That's what I make in two weeks!"

       "I'm aware it's a bit high...but with property values..."

       "Oh God..." Buffy buried her face in her hands, "Kill me now...please."

       "Buffy, I realize it's hard..."

       "Hard?! No...killing Angel was hard...dealing with my mom dying and my sister being a Key was hard...this is impossible!"

       "Nothing's impossible..."

       "Oh no...you sound like an inspiration poster...it's that bad isn't it?" Buffy groaned, then stood up, heading towards the door, "I need...to be somewhere..."

       "Buffy...you can't run away from this..."

       "I'm not running...I'm...avoiding...big " Buffy darted out the door, leaving an exasperated Giles behind.

       "I'm going to start charging you rent," Spike threatened lightly as Buffy slipped into his crypt, and she let out a strangled scream as she flopped down on the couch, and Spike stared at her, "Do I even want to know what that was about?"

       "Money...evil...root of all things that are bad."

       "That's only if you don't got it, luv," Spike replied, and Buffy sighed.

       "I remember when I was ten and I said I was going to marry a millionaire...why oh why didn't I follow through with that plan?"

       "Shame, luv...thought you were less shallow then that."

       "I am...just not right now..." Buffy lifted her head, "What was the number of that escort service again?"

       Spike chuckled, and then his grin disappeared, "You're not serious?"

       "Of course not! Well...not totally..." Buffy grimaced, "I have to do something, Spike..."

       "I thought burning down the house for the insurance was a good way to go."

       "You would..." Buffy snorted, "I can sell the jeep...but I don't actually own it. My mom was leasing..." She frowned suddenly, realizing that there was an empty table in front of the chair he was sitting in, "Um...where's your TV?"

       "Pawned it."

       "For what? Blood, booze and cigarettes?"

       Spike gave her a look, and then understanding crossed his face, "Who cleaned the table I was at the other night?"

       "Umm...Mandy, I think...why?" Spike growled beneath his breath, and Buffy raised an eyebrow, "What's with you?"

       "Nothing," Spike shook his head, "Never trust a woman with a bouffant hair-do. The bloody bitch."

       "Oookkkaayyy..." Buffy eyed him, "Have you been drinking?"

       "No," Spike sighed, "Sadly not."

       Buffy shook her head in confusion as Spike scowled at the empty spot his television had been in. "Any ideas?"

       "Had one, didn't pan out all that well," Spike grumbled, then shrugged, "Luv...me and finances? We're like oil and water. That's why I had Dalton. He got fried by the Judge a'course," Spike scowled, "I'm still kicking myself over that. He knew the code to my Swiss bank account. I can't seem to find it, and the bastards aren't being too helpful either."

       "Can we stop with the money talks?" Buffy pleaded, "It just reminds me I'm a few weeks away from being booted from my own home."

       "I'm sorry, luv...if I can do anything...?"

       "Only if you won the lottery suddenly," Buffy said glumly, then sat up with a sigh, "I better get going. I ran out on Giles and he's already kinda miffed with me. Says I'm trying to run away from the problem."

       "You are, pet..." At Buffy's look, Spike shrugged sheepishly, "Not that any of it is my business..."

       "Good," Buffy headed towards the door with a sigh, "Maybe I'll see you after work."

       "Yeah, I'll be here..." Spike said, sighing as Buffy shut the door, "Watching the bloody wall...like the nonce I am..."

       Giles and Willow tensely conferred with each other quietly in a corner of the living room, the heaviness of their argument before hanging in the air before them, but their disagreement was shoved away for the moment for a supposedly 'bad' influence in Buffy's life. Unfortunately, they were both agreeing with each other.

       "That's where she's been going every night, isn't it? I just thought...it was like...before...when she would sneak out to do one more patrol...I never thought that she'd..."

       Giles' face screwed up a bit, then he nodded slowly, "I imagine that's where she's going," The Watcher said tensely, and Willow frowned a bit.

       "Is it really so bad?"

       Giles stared at her like she had sprouted a second head, "It's Spike..."

       "I know...but for he helped us slay...and protect Dawn...he wasn't doing it for money or because he wanted to get into Buffy's pants..."

       "I know that," Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I--I don't doubt Spike has feelings for Buffy...but it's Buffy we have to worry about...you're of course noticed Buffy's...uh...strange behavior..."

       "Well...she just escaped from a hell dimension...she's adjusting...and everything's been stressful..."

       "This is different, and you know it...she won't let anyone near her...she even has trouble getting close to Dawn again...all she does is work, slay...and spend the rest of her free time with Spike...he could be taking advantage of her confusion, and vulnerability..."

       Willow looked worried, "You don't think..."

       "He may love her, somewhat, Willow...but he's still a soulless vampire...he has no moral code or..."

       "I get the point," Willow looked down at her hands, her lips tightening, "What do you think we should do then?"

       "I think it's time we finally persuaded Spike to move on."

Part Two

       Spike was lying on his bed, reading a book when he heard the crypt door open, then frowned when he heard Willow's voice calling for him. He marked the spot in his book, sliding off the bed, "Just a sec!" He called back, glancing around the crypt for a shirt, and found one on the floor. He sniffed it, then shrugged, pulling it on.

       "So...what's my favorite witch wanting with me?" The vampire came above, then blinked in surprise, seeing Giles, "Hey, Watcher...thanks for saying bye and all...made me feel warm and fuzzy..."

        "Spike..." Giles greeted the vampire somewhat coldly, glancing around the crypt, and Spike frowned, glancing at Willow, who wouldn't meet his eyes.

       "What's going on? Is it Dawn? Where's Buffy?"

       "No...Dawn's fine...and Buffy's..." Willow glanced down at her feet, "Buffy's at work."

       Spike looked suspicious as he glanced at Giles, "But it's about Buffy."

       "Spike..." Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them, "We have something to discuss with you..."

       "What's that then?" Spike turned his piercing gaze back on Willow, who still couldn't look at him in the face, and his jaw tightened.

       "We want you to leave Sunnydale."

       Spike's head jerked towards Giles and he gaped at him, "Excuse me?!"

       "As soon as the sun is down, we want you gone. Don't come back, or...we'll shall be forced...to take drastic measures."

       "Wh--" Spike shook his head, "Why?"

       "Because..." Willow finally spoke up, albeit it was in a soft tone that she hadn't used in a while, "We don't trust you..."

       Spike looked like he had been slapped as he stared back and forth between the Watcher, and the redhead. Soon, the shock in his expressive eyes was replaced with disgust and anger, "I see how it is then...ole Spikey's served his purpose. Now that you got the Slayer back, you don't need him anymore, so you send him scurrying home...I don't bloody think so."

       "We're not asking you, Spike...we're telling you. We...don't like what you're doing to Buffy..."

       "What I'm--what I'm doing too Buffy?!"

       "Listen, Spike...we don't want there to be a problem..." Willow started and Spike gave her a look.

       "Little late, Red," Spike replied, his tone laced with acid, eyes burning as he turned them on Giles, "Get the fuck out. Get the fuck out of my home and if I ever bloody see you here again..."

       "That's...not an option, Spike," Giles said, removing a stake from his pocket, and setting it casually on the sarcophagus. "I'm hoping you will just quietly leave..."

       "The bloody hell I will!" Spike snarled, taking a step towards Giles, but Willow held up her hand, stilling the vampire in place, and he threw a baneful look at her, "I cannot believe this shit. Red...you can't seriously think..."

       "I do," She replied, her eyes starting to swirl with black, "You have one chance, Spike..." The stake lifted off the tomb, and floated in the air, pointed towards the vampire. "Or we cut the Gordian knot, and get rid of the problem directly."

       "Th-the problem...?" Spike repeated, obviously hurt, "I used to be a man once. Stupid me, thought you people knew that..."

       Giles glanced at his watch, then at Spike, "Tick tock, mate."

       Spike closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and without a word, he whirled and stalked towards the entrance of his crypt. "Oh...and Spike...if you say a word of this to Buffy...and if you try and come back...we will find you, and we will kill you," Giles added.

       Spike didn't answer him, his shoulders squaring as he slammed the door behind him, racing for his car.

       Giles glanced at Willow, "Trash it."

       Willow looked at the Watcher in surprise, then nodded, lifting up her hands. A wind blew up in the crypt, and she closed her eyes as the roar nearly deafened the two people. Statues fell over, and the couch and chair were torn apart, becoming nothing but stuffing and little sticks of wood.

       Giles nodded as the wind died down, his hair standing on end from the powerful gusts. "We're agreed then...we tell no one what happened."

       "Yeah," Willow said, her shoulders slumping a bit. "Agreed..."

       Spike ripped his car door open, sliding into the front seat as he felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. He had once thought there was nothing more painful then watching Buffy die...he was wrong. It was the betrayal of people he thought he could trust, and who he had been stupid enough to believe trusted him.

       He slammed the steering column hard enough to bend the wheel, snarling in anger. He then crossed his arms over the wheel, and buried his head in them, allowing the tears to come, cursing himself for a poncy wanker as he did so.

       He lifted his head after a while, and leaned his head back against the seat, then slowly started the car with a low growl. He wanted to go right to Buffy, and tell her what happened. He was going to do just that when he thought better of it, realizing how painful it'd be for the Slayer to learn of her friends' betrayal, and he took a deep breath as, instead, he turned his car out of town. He destroyed the 'You are now leaving Sunnydale' sign for good measure, a dark, wry smile tugging at his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.

       Buffy sighed as she threw open the door to Spike's crypt, nearly groaning, "God! I swear...if one more guy grabs my ass, someone's going to lose a han--"

       She froze, looking around the destroyed crypt, her eyes going wide, "Spike? Spike?!"

       No one answered her, and she raced downstairs, still calling the vampire's name frantically. She skidded to a stop when she saw Spike's duster lying over the footboard of his bed, and she felt like her heart had leapt up into her throat. He never went anywhere without his duster.

       She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, pulling his duster over to her, and she stared at it dazedly, then clutched it to her chest, closing her eyes with a small whispered pray that she wasn't sure anyone could hear, and waited for him to come back home to her.

       "Dawn...you're going to be late for school!" Tara called, dodging Giles, then Willow as they worked together in the kitchen, both of them oddly silent as they made breakfast.

       Tara glanced at them with a small frown, a troubled vibe coming off of them, then shook it off as she went to the foot of the stairs, "Dawn! Come on!"

       Dawn peeked over the banister, "Have you seen my gray sweater?"

       "I think Buffy has it...just don't wake her up. She had a late shift last night," Tara told her, then went back into the kitchen, starting to make Dawn's lunch.

       Dawn came down a few minutes later, looking troubled, "I thought Buffy was in bed..."

       "She is," Tara said distractedly, bagging a sandwich.

       "She's not...her bed wasn't even slept in."

       Tara glanced at Dawn, "She's not here?"

       "She wasn't all night from the look of things..." Dawn suddenly grinned, "Do you think she stayed with..." She glanced at Giles, then cleared her throat, "Uh...Anya and Xander?"

       Tara shook her head slightly, throwing a worried look at Giles and Willow, "Did either of you hear her come in last night?"

       "I...uh...not as such...no..." Giles stammered a bit, a guilty flush touching his cheeks, and Willow was putting more attention then was really necessary into buttering her bagel.

       Tara glanced at Dawn, who only shrugged in confusion, just as much in the dark as she was. "Come on, Dawny...I'll drive you to school..." Tara glanced at Willow, giving her a look that clearly said they would talk later.

       Willow glanced at Giles, who wouldn't meet her gaze, and the redhead sighed as she headed upstairs to sulk for a bit.

       Giles stared down at the tea in his hand, then with a grunt of frustration, hurled the cup into the sink, where is smashed into small bits. He ran a hand over his eyes, sighing deeply, "Bloody hell..."

       Buffy slowly trudged up the front walk, wrapped in Spike's duster, the soft, worn leather enveloping her small, slumped frame, the scent of him trapped within the coat he had worn for nearly thirty years.

       She felt weak, lost...and so very alone...much like had she felt the night she had come back from the dead. She closed her eyes as she paused outside her own front door, working up the strength and courage to open it.

       She could still remember the look on his face as he sat across from her, holding her wounded hands in his, his cool touch comforting against her warmed flesh after not knowing heat for what felt like an eternity.

       Buffy inhaled sharply, then quietly opened the door, chewing on her bottom lip, then attempted to sneak inside and up the stairs without anyone seeing her.

       "Buffy!" She froze on the bottom step of the staircase at her Watcher's voice, and she closed her eyes, not turning around.

       "Giles...I just...want to go to bed. I'm tired..." She said quietly, her tone dead, and Giles fidgeted nervously, glad she couldn't see him.

       "What's wrong, Buffy?" He asked, walking towards her and lying a hand on her shoulder. She immediately tensed at his touch, and he dropped his hand, "Please...tell me, Buffy..."

       "It's nothing, I'm tired," She said shortly, disappearing up the stairs and he closed his eyes as her bedroom door slammed shut.

       The fact that she was wearing Spike's duster wasn't lost on him, and his eyes narrowed a tiny bit, wondering if Spike hadn't left after all...but he would have told her everything about what he and Willow had done. There wouldn't have been disinterest then...there'd probably be screaming and yelling.

       Frankly, he would have been better prepared for that then her current behavior. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, troubled, but he shoved it away. He was sure that once Buffy got over Spike's departure...eh...'death'...as she was sure to think him dead...things would regress back to normal.

       God...he hoped things would return to normal.

       Buffy lay on top of her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had been lying there for the better part of six hours, wrapped up in Spike's duster. She closed her eyes as she buried her nose in the labels of the coat, inhaling his already fading scent deeply.

       "Buffy?" Willow called through the firmly locked door, "Buffy...dinner's ready..."

       "I'm not hungry," Buffy replied, rolling over to her side, and then sat up when she heard the lock pop, a shimmer of light falling to the floor.

       Willow peeked her head in and Buffy glared at her, "You know, there's a fucking reason I locked my goddamned door!"

       Willow drew back at her tone, eyes widening slightly. "I'm...sorry...but...I was worried...you've been up here all day..."

       "If you're worried about me, then respect my bloody PRIVACY!"

       "Did you just say bl--"

       "Go. Away. Willow," Buffy bit out agitatedly, drawing Spike's coat more firmly about her body, "I want to be alone."

       "You've been alone all day!"

       Buffy gave her a look that could have frozen fire, and Willow looked exasperated, "Buffy! What is your problem?!" She didn't mean to snap, not really, but she was getting fed up with Buffy's behavior of late. Well...of late a couple of weeks ago...she had been getting better, but now she was all...snappish...and mean...and..."Oh Goddess..."

       Buffy watched as Willow whirled and scurried out, nearly slamming into the doorframe on her way out.

       She raced down the stairs, nearly bowling over Tara in the process, and the blond yelped as she pitched backwards, and Willow held up her hand, suspending Tara in midair till she could catch her footing.

       "Oh, Goddess...honey...I'm so sorry..."

       "I'm fine," Tara took a deep breath, then looked at her girlfriend, frowning when she saw the slightly guilty look on her red face, "What's wrong?"

       "Um..." Willow hesitated, "Buffy...she's...upset about...something..."

       "About what?"

       "Um...I think...it has something to do with Spike," Her eyes skirted to the side for a brief instant, "She's wearing his jacket...and she hasn't left her room all day..."

       "Oh," Tara looked concerned, "Did she say what happened?"

       "Not so much...no..." Willow smiled a bit nervously, "I...uh...have to talk to Giles..."

       Tara frowned as Willow slipped around her, then continued up the stairs, hesitating outside Buffy's door. She then continued on to her and Willow's room, frowning as she knelt beside the bed, digging beneath it till she found a box of gourmet chocolates she had gotten Willow for their upcoming anniversary. She slipped it beneath her arm before returning to outside Buffy's door, knocking on it.

       "Willow! I said to FUCK OFF!"

       "It's Tara," The witch replied, a bit taken back by Buffy's sudden bad language, "I brought candy."

       There was silence on the other side of the door, and Tara smiled as Buffy finally replied, "What kind?"

       "We have problems!" Willow blurted out as soon as she entered the kitchen, and Dawn looked up from her schoolbooks curiously.

       "What's wrong?"

       "Uh..." Willow glanced at Giles, looking slightly panicked, "Can I talk to you...somewhere that's not here?"

       Giles frowned, then glanced down at the dinner he was making. "Dawn...could you watch the water? Put the noodles in when..."

       "I know how to make Mac 'N' Cheese," Dawn replied with a scowl, "And I'm not a little kid, people...you can talk in front of me."

       "Giles!"

       "Just...watch the water," Giles replied, then followed Willow out onto the back porch, closing the door behind him. "What's wrong? Is it Buffy?"

       "Oh, yeah," Willow chewed on her bottom lip, "She's completely...well...she's psycho, Giles! She's been sitting in her bed all day wearing Spike's jacket! And she told me to bloody respect her privacy! Bloody, Giles! She said bloody! An-and there was swearing...and she wouldn't even talk to me..."

       Giles sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, silently praying for strength, "Willow..."

       "What if she finds out, Giles? What we did?" Willow asked him, nearly hysterical, "She'll wig! Big time wig!"

       "Willow," Giles gripped her shoulder, giving her a small shake, "Calm yourself down...Buffy won't find out..."

       "But...she's..."

       "She's fine," Giles shook his head, "She's just a little upset, that's all. She'll be fine in a few days, I'm sure..."

       "She seems really upset though..."

       "Willow, it's only Spike...she's professed her hatred for him numerous times..."

       "Yeah..." Willow fidgeted, "But...that was before..."

       "She's vulnerable, Willow...he was taking advantage of the fact...we couldn't allow another Angelus incident to occur..."

       Willow chewed on her bottom lip, then sighed, "Right...alright...she'll be fine?"

       "I'm sure she will," Giles smiled at her reassuringly. "Buffy will be just fine..."

       Buffy's knees were drawn up to her chest, and she was eyeing the half-bitten piece of chocolate like it was going to bite her back.

       Tara sat cross-legged across from the Slayer, waiting patiently for the Slayer to talk to her. Buffy glanced up at her, noting she was using the same ploy Spike had used on her when she had come back and he wanted her to tell him things. Kept silent and watched her till she felt the need to fill the silence.

       Tara saw something change subtly in Buffy's stance, and she leaned forward a tiny bit, saying quietly, "Anything you tell me...it's between you and me, Buffy."

       Buffy looked back down at the half-finished chocolate, muttering, "I hate nougat..."

       Tara smiled slightly as Buffy replaced the chocolate in the box, and Buffy rested her chin on her bent knees, fingering the sleeve of the heavy, leather duster.

       Tara watched her closely, but not unkindly, her eyes full of understanding as she asked softly, "Did something happen with Spike? Did you have a fight?"

       At the mention of his name, tears started to fill Buffy's eyes once more, and then she buried her face in her knees, muffling her sob.

       Immediately, Tara's comforting arms were around her, and the blond witch made little sounds of comfort as Buffy sank into her embrace. After a long while, Buffy managed to calm herself down some, and she accepted a tissue from Tara with a tearful, awkward smile. "So-sorry..."

       "Don't be," Tara told her, "You're allowed to be sad just like everyone else..."

       "Am I?" She asked more to herself then Tara, and Tara frowned slightly.

       "Why wouldn't you be? Just because you're the Slayer? Why does that make a difference? You're still a being."

       "A being?" Buffy gave her a curious look, as well as slightly confused.

       "Well...it's not exactly P.C.," Tara told her, glad to have gotten some kind of dialogue going, "Emotions aren't primarily a human trait."

       Buffy sighed as she crossed her legs, looking down at her hands before bringing it to her mouth and started to nibble on the cuticle. "No...I guess not," She mumbled around her finger, and Tara took her hand away from her mouth and covered it with both of hers.

       "Buffy...what happened to Spike?"

       "He's..." Buffy took a deep breath, finding the words hard to shove out of her throat, "He's...his crypt...it was all torn up...an-and...he left his duster...he never leaves without his duster..."

       Tara squeezed her hand when she saw Buffy was about ready to go off again, "Are you sure he didn't make it out through the catacombs?"

       "The door to them was locked...from the inside...and it was daylight..."

       "Shhh..." Tara wrapped an arm around Buffy's shoulder when she started to cry again, and she pressed a kiss to the top of the Slayer's blond head. "I'm so sorry, Buffy..."

       "It's all my fault..." She sniffled again, swiping at her eyes, "It was probably a demon...'cause he was helpin' me...cause he...loved me..." She sobbed again and Tara held her tightly, rocking their bodies back and forth slightly.

       Buffy closed her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths, and then smiled wearily at Tara as she managed to compose herself, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

       Tara gave her an understanding look, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and the Slayer sighed, lying her head on Tara's shoulder.

       "Buffy...I know everything has been so hard for you...between...pulling you out of heaven, or wherever you were...and coming back here...to the Slaying...and now, Spike..."

       Buffy looked at her sharply, immediately tensing, "What? What did you say...?"

       Tara ducked her head, hesitating, "I...I know, Buffy...when you left the shop that day...I was worried about you and I followed...I heard what you told Spike. I didn't mean too...but I heard..."

       "You...knew?"

       "I didn't tell Willow or the others...because...well...it's not my place to tell them," Tara shook her head slightly, "But...you will have too...soon. This isn't something you can keep from them..."

       "But..." Buffy shifted uncomfortably, "It'll...hurt them..."

       "Then good."

       Buffy looked at Tara in shock, and Tara sighed, "Buffy...what we did...it was wrong...I know it was wrong...I knew it before we did it. We did it because...we did it because we were frightened. An-and...we pulled you out of paradise...and even if they get a little hurt when they find out...it can't compare to what we did to you..."

       "It hurts..." Buffy whispered, "Everyday, it hurts a little bit more...being away from there...and it's like...I'm dying a tiny bit everyday...like...I'm not me anymore," Buffy shook her head, wondering if Tara thought she was as crazy as she sounded. She felt crazy sometimes. Maybe if she were, it'd be better. Hurt less.

       "But...when I was with Spike...I was me again. He made me...he made me laugh and he was there," Her voice dropped to a low whisper, "He was always there, whenever I needed him...even during the day...he was there...I didn't even have to ask...he was just...there."

       Tara cast her eyes down, and then pressed her lips together, "I'll...go to his crypt tomorrow...and...I can do a spell to see who did it..."

       Buffy lifted her head from Tara's shoulder, "You'll do that?" She asked softly, and Tara smiled at her.

       "As long as you promise to tell them...soon. It doesn't have to be now...just...soon..."

       Buffy exhaled slowly, and then nodded. "Okay...soon," She replied quietly, "Soon."

Part Three

       The next morning, Buffy called out of sick at work again so that she could accompany Tara to Spike's crypt. They had told her to come in later and pick up her last paycheck and return her fake breasts. Big loss there, she thought bitterly. Ohhh...please! Don't take away my double-Ds!

       She drew Spike's duster more firmly around her, chewing on her already swollen and abused lips. Tara walked a few feet in front of her, quietly muttering beneath her breath, going over the spell she needed to use to find out who had killed Spike. She had tried to engage Buffy in conversation, but the Slayer was unable to hold up her end of the discourse, and she had given up, knowing that Buffy was tired and anxious. Neither of them had slept much the night before, if at all. Buffy had mostly lain awake, staring up at the ceiling, Mr. Gordo cradled against her chest and the duster firmly wrapped around her. Tara had sat up with her, catching dozing for a few moments here and there, but mostly, she just watched Buffy worriedly, reading the pain and sorrow in Buffy's aura.

       Tara paused when she came to the door to Spike's crypt, hesitating slightly. Buffy stopped behind her and inhaled sharply and painfully when she saw the door was still standing ajar from when she had practically sleep=walked out of there just two days before. It felt like so much longer then that. "Right..." Buffy glanced at Tara, taking a deep breath, "Ready?"

       "Yeah," Tara replied, not really meaning it, but said a short, silent prayer in her mind, trying to draw strength from the earth and air around her. "All ready."

       Buffy pushed open the door without knocking, stepping inside into the dim, somewhat dusty crypt. It had been only two days, but already, it was desolate and lifeless without Spike's charged presence dwelling inside. She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath, almost believing she could catch a few, faint tingling teasers of his dying scent, but it was all in her mind. She couldn't smell anything beyond dust and the bitter scent of old booze.

       Every night I saved you...

       Tara started to lay out the components of her spell, drawing a large triangle in the middle of the crypt with blue chalk, and then drawing a closed eye within it with red chalk. She picked up a few of the candles that lined the sill of a small, barred window and placed them at the three points of the triangle and lit them with a small lighter she had brought with her.

       "Servant of knowledge," She started to chant as Buffy slipped out of Spike's jacket and folded it up tightly. "Harken to our cries. Fudo Myoo...guardian of the sword of knowledge, we beg a boon of thee..." Tara held up a small dagger, and Buffy stepped forward, holding out her palm to Tara. She didn't flinch as she closed her hand over the blade, and then jerked it so that it opened up her flesh. She let the blood dribble onto Spike's duster, and Tara took it from her and held it suspended above the triangle and closed eye. "An offering of blood, gift of her flesh. Champion against hate and champion of justice, please, hear us and grant us our request." Tara gingerly lowered the duster into the triangle, careful not to block the closed eye. As soon as Buffy's blood dripped onto the cement, there was a blinding flash of red light, and both girls averted their eyes.

       When the light subsided enough that Buffy was once more able to see, she looked back towards the triangle, seeing a red mist, flashes of lightening-like pulses of blue light erupting within it. It flowed across the floor and around their feet, but it didn't travel inside the lines of the triangle, and Buffy started when she saw a red eye rolling in a socket of cement. The blood on Spike's duster glowed with a dull, bluish light as it dripped onto the floor, and she watched as it started to pull itself into a pool, leaving not a drop on the leather, and she shuddered as she watched it started to slid over towards the eye, her blood being sucked down into the cement socket.

       "You seek answers of Fudo Myoo," A voice suddenly boomed, echoing off the walls of the crypt and making Buffy jump in surprise, her eyes going wide. "Ask, Witch."

       "Our friend Spike," Tara's voice was steady, and Buffy glanced at her, seeing the witch's stiff back and proud, firm stance. "He went missing a day or so ago. We want to know who killed him."

       The eye rolled in the socket, dimming a bit as it seemed to contemplate Tara's question and drew his answers from Spike's duster. "William the Bloody, vampire, love of a Slayer, death of past Slayers," The voice echoed, the eye rolling to gaze at Tara and Buffy. "The vampire still lives," The voice then took on a slightly amused tone, "In a matter of speaking."

       "He's not dead?" Buffy closed her eyes, feeling her knees weakening, "He's not dead..."

       Tara reached out to steady Buffy and she leaned against the blond Wiccan's side, "He's not dead?"

       The eye flashed red briefly, and the mist around their feet started to grow hot, and Buffy cried out as it suddenly started to burn their feet, "I answered your question, Witch. Release me. You disturb my rest."

       "I'm sorry," Tara bowed her head respectively, "May I ask a few more questions?"

       "You know the boon."

       Tara nodded and drew the dagger against her own palm and allowed her blood to drip into the triangle. The eye sucked it up, just as it had Buffy's, and the Slayer had to look away, the sight of the eye drinking Tara's blood disgusting her. "Ask your questions, Witch."

       "Where is Spike?"

       "Across the oceans and land, he has flown," The eye answered, "His destination is unknown, even to himself." It dimmed once more for a few seconds, and Buffy watched as the mist started to turn black, the blue lightening still flickering through it. "Inside, he screams at the injustice, at those that have driven him away. Much hate is directed at the Slayer's vampire."

       Buffy listened in pained confusion, "He just left me?" She asked quietly, "He left me...just like the others..."

       Tara looked at her sympathetically, but didn't answer her as she addressed the eye once more, "You said he was driven away. Driven away by who?"

       "The answer is not meant for you, Witch," The eye answered as it rolled in its socket till it was focused only on Buffy, "Ask me your question, Slayer."

       Buffy glanced at Tara, who nodded at her in support, and gestured for her to go ahead and Buffy faced the eye unsurely, "What happened here?"

       The eye flashed red, and Buffy cried out in shock as the mist suddenly thickened and surrounded her entire body, and she started to choke on it as it swarmed into her mouth and nostrils, choking off her breath, and her vision started to go black.

       Buffy blinked in surprise as the mist suddenly disappeared away from her, and she was standing in the middle of Spike's crypt once more. However, there was no sign of Tara, nor of the triangle and eye. She frowned in confusion, and then turned when she heard the door opening and watched as Willow and Giles came inside. "Hey! What are you guys doing here?"

       Willow ignored her as she called for Spike, and Buffy whirled when she heard Spike call from down below, her heart pounding in her chest. He was back! He came back!

       "So, what's my favorite witch wanting with me?" She saw Spike's head appear over the edge of the trapdoor and glanced towards them, eyebrow rising when he saw Giles, "Hey, Watcher. Thanks for sayin' bye and all...made me feel warm and fuzzy," He said sarcastically as he stepped up into the main room of his crypt, and Buffy rushed towards him.

       "Spike! I am sooo gonna kick your ass for scaring me like th--" She blinked in surprise when he stepped through her! She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide, and turned to stare at Spike's back. "What in the...?"

        "Spike..." Giles greeted the vampire somewhat coldly, glancing around the crypt, and Spike frowned, glancing at Willow, who wouldn't meet his eyes.

       "What's going on?  Is it Dawn?  Where's Buffy?" Buffy could hear the mild panic in his voice.

       "No...Dawn's fine...and Buffy's..."  Willow glanced down at her feet, "Buffy's at work."

       Spike looked suspicious as he glanced at Giles, "But it's about Buffy." Buffy blinked in surprise, and then glanced at Giles, the scene unfolding in front of her starting to wig her out a little. She realized she was seeing what had happened the day Spike had disappeared.

       "Spike..." Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them, "We have something to discuss with you..."

       "What's that then?"  Spike turned his piercing gaze back on Willow, who still couldn't look at him in the face, and his jaw tightened.

       "We want you to leave Sunnydale."

       Spike's head jerked towards Giles and he gaped at him, "Excuse me?!"

       "Excuse me?!" Buffy echoed, unseen and unheard by the assembled group, unable to believe what she was hearing. She felt her stomach start to sink, and she clutched it, feeling as if she was going to vomit at any moment.

       "As soon as the sun is down, we want you gone.  Don't come back, or...we'll shall be forced...to take drastic measures."

       "Wh--" Spike shook his head, "Why?"

       "Because..." Willow finally spoke up, albeit it was in a soft tone that she hadn't used in a while, "We don't trust you..."

       Spike looked like he had been slapped as he stared back and forth between the Watcher, and the redhead.  Soon, the shock in his expressive eyes was replaced with disgust and anger, "I see how it is then...ole Spikey's served his purpose.  Now that you got the Slayer back, you don't need him anymore, so you send him scurrying home...I don't bloody think so."

       "We're not asking you, Spike...we're telling you.  We...don't like what you're doing to Buffy..."

       "What I'm--what I'm doing too Buffy?!"

       "Listen, Spike...we don't want there to be a problem..."  Willow started and Spike gave her a look.

       "Little late, Red," Spike replied, his tone laced with acid, eyes burning as he turned them on Giles, "Get the fuck out.  Get the fuck out of my home and if I ever bloody see you here again..."

       "That's...not an option, Spike," Giles said, removing a stake from his pocket, and setting it casually on the sarcophagus.  "I'm hoping you will just quietly leave..."

       "The bloody hell I will!"  Spike snarled, taking a step towards Giles, but Willow held up her hand, stilling the vampire in place, and he threw a baneful look at her, "I cannot believe this shit.  Red...you can't seriously think..."

       "I do," She replied, her eyes starting to swirl with black, "You have one chance, Spike..." The stake lifted off the tomb, and floated in the air, pointed towards the vampire.  "Or we cut the Gordian knot, and get rid of the problem directly."

       Buffy stared at her best friend, mouth dropping open as she stepped up beside Spike, saying in a pained whisper, "Willow?"

       "Th-the problem...?" Spike repeated, obviously hurt, "I used to be a man once.  Stupid me, thought you people knew that..."

       Giles glanced at his watch, then at Spike, "Tick tock, mate."

       Spike closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and without a word, he whirled and stalked towards the entrance of his crypt.  "Oh...and Spike...if you say a word of this to Buffy...and if you try and come back...we will find you, and we will kill you," Giles added.

       Spike didn't answer him, his shoulders squaring as he slammed the door behind him, and Buffy watched him go helplessly, tears starting to sting the inside of her eyelids. Then, the sick feeling was replaced with anger, and she clenched her fists together, eyes narrowing as she watched her two closest friends betray her so completely.

       Giles glanced at Willow, "Trash it."

       "Buffy!" Tara shook the Slayer who was lying unconscious on the floor, becoming extremely worried. The Eye in the triangle had closed once the dark mist had engulfed Buffy, but Buffy had yet to wake up.

       Finally, Buffy let out a groggy half=moan and half-sigh, and then her eyes shot open. Tara was startled by the almost wild look in Buffy's eyes as the Slayer suddenly leapt to her feet, all grogginess disappearing as she looked around the crypt, and then she darted forward, scooping up Spike's duster and then racing out the door.

       "BUFFY!" Tara ran to the door, in time to see Buffy leaping over tombstones and anything else that got in her way as she ran full-out in the direction of her home, bewildered. "What in the name of the great Goddess is going on?"

       Buffy was running on pure, highly=charged emotion as she charged up Revello Drive, her eyes narrowed and tears streaming from them. She could still see Spike's crushed face as he raced out the door, the beginnings of tears moistening the blue orbs, could still see the cold expression on Giles' face, and Willow's glinting, reptilian black eyes.

       She slammed the door open, nearly shattering it with the force with which she had flung it out of her way, startling Giles who was on the phone to a bill collector. "Buffy! What in the world has gotten into yo--"

       She stalked up to him and yanked the phone out of his hand and slammed it down on the cradle, and Giles watched as the entire phone set was ripped from the wall, "Bloody hell, Buffy!"

       "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Home." Buffy bit out in barely controlled rage, "You and Willow, both of you, OUT OF HERE NOW!"

       Giles blinked in surprise, taking a step back from Buffy, the aura of anger and danger almost palatable around her. "Buffy--"

       "Don't even," She seethed out, "Don't say a fucking word to me, Giles. I'm so goddamn angry, I could snap your neck and not even care."

       "Don't you threaten me, Buffy!" Giles eyes glinted as they narrowed, "Do you mind tell me what this little hissy fit of yours is about?"

       "Let's talk about threats, you son of a bitch!" Buffy was screaming again, "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO HIM!"

       "Him who?" Giles was trying hard to keep his temper in check, but was having a hard time of it. Not with her screaming at him and threatening to snap his neck. His head suddenly whipped to the side with the force of her slap, and he brought a hand up to his cheek, which he was sure was a flaming red color.

       "You asshole," Buffy clenched her fists, and forcibly shoved them behind her back, as if to prevent herself from doing him anymore harm. "I thought I could trust you...but I can't," She said quietly, "I want you out of my home now. And I don't want you near me or Dawn...ever again. You blew your second chance with me, Giles. You blew it big time. Now get out of my goddamn home."

       "Buffy, you have to understand..." Giles tried to reason with her, "He was taking advantage of your vulnerable state..."

       "HE WAS NOT TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME!" She shrieked at him, "All he was doing was being there when I needed him! He was being my FRIEND! And you drove the one person that was making me happy AWAY! Because you were so goddamn jealous and self-bloody-righteous! GET OUT NOW!"

       "Buffy..."

       "NOW!" She made a move towards him, and Giles stumbled back with a small cry, expecting her to strike him again. He forced himself into composure, and took a deep breath.

       "Buffy, I will be back to discuss this with you once you're in more control," Giles told her, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

       "I swear to God, Giles...if I do see you again, someone's going to end up hurt, and you can bet it won't be me!"

       Giles backed away from her and then headed towards the back door, "I will be back to talk to you later, Buffy..."

       She let out a snarl of rage and bent to pick up the phone, and Giles ducked out the door as she let it fly at him and he cringed as the phone set crashed through the glass, and he glanced down as the operator intoned lifelessly, "The number you are trying to call cannot be reached as dialed...please hang up and try again..."

Part Four

        Tara panted as she jogged up towards Buffy's house, carrying an armload of magic supplies in her arms and she paused on the sidewalk, eyes widening slightly. All of Willow and Giles' clothes and personal belongings were strewn all over the front yard, and she looked up as a wad of Willow's underwear was tossed out of an upstairs window to become entangled in the tree outside.

        Giles was walking around the yard, swearing profusely as he gathered his things, and she could see a bruise forming on his cheek, in the rough shape of someone's palm. She frowned slightly, and then her jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as Giles glanced up at her. "It was you, wasn't it? You and Willow? You were the ones that did this?"

        Giles' eyes narrowed when he saw the magic ingredients in her arms, and he dropped his armload of clothes as he stalked towards her. Tara cried out in surprise as he gripped her arm and shook her hard enough to rattle the teeth in her jaw. "What in the hell did you do?!"

        "OW!" She jerked away from him, and rubbed her arm with a wince, "She wanted to know what happened to Spike," She replied, steel lacing her voice, "You and Willow...whatever you said or did to him...you had no right."

        "We were trying to protect Buffy!" He snapped, "We were helping her!"

        "We all wanted to help and protect Buffy," Tara said softly, "But Spike was the only one actually succeeding." She slipped past him and hurried indoors, where he was very unwelcome at the moment, leaving Giles to collect his things.

        The house was thoroughly ransacked, and Tara found Buffy in her and Willow's bedroom, tossing Willow's things out the window, uncaring about the breakables, although, she did make sure not to toss any of Tara's things out along with her girlfriend's.

        "They threatened him," Buffy said without stopping her task, her eyes still narrowed, her aura suffused with crimson and black streaks, showing how angry she was at the moment. "They said the most horrible things to him...they thought he was taking advantage of me...OF ME!" She flung a box of Willow's incense out the window. "AS IF!"

        Tara did nothing to stop her, or rather, was unable to stop her, even if she tried. Better to let her vent her frustrations and hope she didn't break a priceless, magical artifact in her rage.

        "They said they would kill him if he came back," Buffy stopped long enough to swipe at her running nose before letting out a shriek and kicking the footboard of the bed, cracking the wood. Suddenly, all the strength seemed to be sapped from her body, and she sat down heavily on the bed and buried her head in her hands. "You should have seen his face," She said softly, almost brokenly, "They hurt him so bad. The things they said...what they did..."

        "You saw what happened? When you were unconscious?"

        Buffy nodded slowly, lifting her head, and laughing almost bitterly, "I wanted to know what happened...and I saw it all...in living color...and they were never going to tell me. They were going to let me think he was dead...make me think..."

        "Oh...honey..." Tara wrapped her arms around Buffy when she started to sob, and the Slayer buried her face in the Witch's shoulder, and Tara's lips tightened slightly as she thought of the part her girlfriend had played in driving Spike away.

        Oh...Willow...how could you?

        "Oh my Goddess..." Willow's eyes were wide as she stared around at the front yard, covered in her clothes and belongings, and winced when she saw her underwear entangled in the branches of the tree, flapping in the breeze for all the world to see. She frowned in confusion as she waved her hand, "Gather." Immediately, everything flew into a pile at her feet, including her underwear. She sighed as she looked down up at the pile and then glanced at the front door apprehensively, a bit confused as to what was going on.

        She jumped when the front door opened, but then smiled when she saw Tara coming out, "Hey honey," She greeted brightly, "Are we having a lover's spat or something?" She asked playfully, "There's got to be a better way to tell me we're having one then throwing my clothes out into the yard." Tara crossed her arms over her chest, not looking the least bit amused and Willow's face fell when she saw the look Tara was giving her. "Uh...did I do something?"

        "You think?" Tara replied uncharacteristically sarcastic, "What was your first clue? The clothes in the front yard? The underwear in the tree?"

        "Um..." Willow hesitated, "Okay, what did I do?"

        "Buffy and I went to Spike's crypt today," Tara told her, "I called upon Fudo Myoo to find out what happened to Spike. We thought he was dead, you see...at least, we were led to believe he was dead."

        Willow's face bled itself of all color, "Tara...I can explain..."

        "No, I really don't think you can," Tara replied softly, "You can't keep doing this, Willow...playing God with people's lives..."

        "I wasn't..."

        "You threatened to kill Spike if he didn't leave town. You trashed his home and then let Buffy find it like that, and let her believe he was dead when he wasn't! How could you? After everything he did for us? For Dawn?"

        "He only did it to get to Buffy..."

        "Spike may be undead," Tara replied, giving Willow a look, "But I don't think he's really all that heavy into the necrophilia."

        "Okay...ew..." Willow grimaced, and then cast her eyes down shamefacedly, lips pursing slightly, knowing her girlfriend was right...about that, anyhow. Nothing had been keeping Spike there. He made it clear that he couldn't give two hoots about the entire gang, except for Dawn, and Dawn had been the only one he'd respond too for the longest time.

        After Buffy had died, she had been sneaking out every night, once everyone had thought her in bed, and Spike was always the one to bring her home, scowling and spitting hostilities at anyone unlucky enough to be caught in her crosshairs, and she shoved everyone away, as hard as she could. She had been full of anger and poison and Goddess knew what else, and she spewed it at them with the reckless intent of a teenager. They had all shied away from her, tried to dodge the abuse she heaped on them angrily, and they had let her push them away...except for Spike.

        He took the abuse, swallowed it, and thanked her for giving it to him. The more she hit him with it, the happier he seemed, proving once and for all that William the Bloody was indeed some sort of emotional masochist. Of course, that would be what Dawn responded too.

        He let her scream, yell and beat on him till her heart's content, and eventually, her own conscience and sense of decency made her take a step back and look at what she had been doing to who she had always thought of as her best friend. Then, in what could only be described as Dawn suddenly developing multiple personality disorder, she suddenly started mothering everyone she came into contact with, especially Spike. It was like the Teenaged Twilight Zone. Even Spike had been incredibly wigged by the sudden change and suggested she had been possessed by the spirit of Betty Crocker, who, for some weird reason he never explained, he was sure was out to get him. All she had gotten out of him about that was a half mumble about brownies and the Sixties, and something about watching his hand for six hours.

        He did drugs in the Sixties...further proof that the was a bad influence on Buffy and Dawn. Willow was about to point that out to Tara but decided against it before she even opened her mouth. Okay, drug use forty years ago didn't exactly make for a good case on her end...and besides, she was pretty sure Giles had been into the pretty heavy stuff in the Seventies anyhow. Not to mention the one time Spike had scented weed on Dawn, he had hauled her out to the proverbial woodshed and let her have it verbally.

        Dawn didn't tell them what he told her and why she had been ten shades paler, but Xander had joked that maybe she finally found out the real reason Spike not-so-secretly feared Betty Crocker and had actually squealed in fear when Xander had tossed a box of her Zebra brownie mix at him. As far as she knew, Spike hadn't sniffed any other illegal substance on the teenager since then.

        Willow realized that for the first time in her life, she was mentally babbling...to herself, while Tara stood there, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for a rational response that wasn't going to be coming any time soon, if ever. "Okay...um...I'm...not entirely sure what to say to that..." Willow fumbled verbally, "I mean...I know what he did while Buffy was...was...y'know...but that doesn't make up for what he was doing NOW."

        "And what exactly was he doing now?" Tara asked, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

        Oh, boy, Willow thought, pained, she's really not going to let this go.

        "You...know...he...an-and Buffy...taking advantage of her?" Okay, that wasn't exactly the `confident, sure of herself and what she believed in' tone she was trying for.

        "Really."

        Oh, flat voice, not good. Willow was beginning to feel even more panicked about this conversation. It was obvious that no matter what wonderfully valid reason that had set her on her original path of Anti-Spikeism, it was not going to work at all on Tara. Willow ducked her head slightly, "What's Buffy saying?"

        "It's not obvious by the rummage sale out here?" Tara remarked coldly, "She doesn't want to see you, talk to you or even want you near her or Dawn," Tara softened her voice a little bit, "She's very upset at both you and Giles, Willow, and Dawn's going to take it just as bad. I don't think either of you should try talking to them till they've had time to settle down and adjust...to this." She cast her eyes down, "And...I'm not moving out with you."

        "What?" Willow looked stricken, "Are we...?"

        "No...I...I don't know," Tara shook her head, looking conflicted, "I think...I think you need sometime to...to start rethinking...about what's important to you..."

        "Tara!" Willow looked shocked, "You...You're important to me...I love you..."

        "You don't lie to the people you love, Willow," Tara replied quietly, turning to go into the house. She paused on the threshold, glancing back at Willow, who was on the verge of tears, "I...I'm sorry, Willow...but...you better...start hoping that he comes back home...soon."

        The Summers' home was in full-blown meltdown mode.

        Dawn had retreated into her bedroom, door slammed and for twenty minutes, the sounds of things being broken and thrown about were heard, till she put on a CD she had borrowed from Spike and had 'forgotten' to return, and cranked up the volume. The Sex Pistols were currently screaming about Anarchy in the UK, and giving Tara a world-class headache.

        Buffy was sitting on the couch, riding the shaky after-effects of her massive hissy-fit, wrapped very firmly in Spike's leather jacket. Tara was really glad that Fudo Myoo had sucked all of the blood of it before, so that she wouldn't have to worry about shampooing the upholstery.

        "Buffy?" Buffy looked up and dazedly took the cup of tea from the blond witch.

        "Thanks," She said, but only held the cup in two hands, staring down at the amber-colored fluid listlessly.

        Tara pressed her lips together a bit, but didn't comment as she sank down onto the couch beside Buffy, throwing a glance upwards at the ceiling when she heard loud thumping coming from Dawn's room, "Should we be worried?"

        "Probably," Buffy replied tiredly, "I'll go upstairs to talk to her in a second." Both women looked upwards when a string of caustic curses, peppered with many of Spike's more colorful British slurs were shouted at the top of teenage lungs. "Or never." Buffy laid her head against the couch and looked towards Tara, "You don't...have to stay here, if you don't want too. I...I don't want to have you caught in the middle between Willow and I...I mean...it's not really your fight..."

        "Buffy," Tara smiled at her gently as she laid a hand on Buffy's shoulder, "I want to be here with you...here for you and Dawnie," She glanced away with a sigh, "Besides...Willow...Willow and I need a little break."

        "Oh God...I'm sorry...You don't have too..."

        "It's not because of you, Buffy," Tara hurriedly reassured Buffy, and then sighed heavily, "It's been coming for a while. Ever since...ever since the summer, she's been...been too liberal with her powers...she doesn't...think before she uses them. She lied to me about the Resurrection spell...well...I think she lied...she didn't tell me what was going to be coming, didn't warn me about what to expect..." Tara shook her head, casting her eyes down, "I...I heard Spike tell Anya and Xander that the reason Willow didn't tell him about the spell was because there was a possibility you might...come back wrong...and...I think he was right. And she didn't tell me about what could happen during the spell because there was a possibility that we may not have raised you at all. Well, your body...but not...you."

        "Oh...great," Buffy snorted, "I might have come back as a flesh-eating zombie. Food for thought. Um...bad choice of words there..." She sighed heavily and both girls lapsed into silence for several minutes, the only sound in the room their breathing and Dawn venting her teenage angst upstairs.

        "Do you think he'll come back?" Buffy asked, her voice wavering with tears, and Tara wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to her side as the Slayer started to cry again.

        "I don't know, honey," Tara replied regretfully, "I'm sorry...I really don't know..."

        "This is all your fault," Willow grumbled, sulking in her chair, box of clothes sitting on the table. "I shouldn't have listened to you."

        Giles sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, glancing at Anya, who was blatantly eavesdropping on them, her eyebrows raised above her eyes. "Anya...don't you have customers to hassle?"

        Anya sniffed and returned to counting the money, mumbling some anti-boss nonsense beneath her breath and Giles returned his attention to Willow, wishing he could start drinking now. But, oh no, good, upstanding citizens who owned magic shops that contained books with all sorts of unspeakable evil contained within them didn't drink at twelve-o-clock in the afternoon. He'd wait till his tea break at twelve-thirty.

        "We discussed this before hand, Willow..."

        "That was before I had to climb a tree to get my Thursday underwear," Willow whined, and Giles gave her a look. "All right, I zapped them. Rhetorically climbed the tree. You said Buffy wouldn't find out...and she did."

        "Because of your girlfriend, I might add," Giles said in annoyance, "Calling on Fudo Myoo...that's irresponsibility in itself..."

        "Not really," Willow flushed, "Um...he's a knowledge seeker...not real big on the punishing of those that call on him...more bark then bite..."

        "Quite right," Giles said in the tone that meant 'no, it wasn't quite right, and in fact, he was on the 'border of restrained English polite annoyance and may actually dip a toe into sarcasm land.'

        Okay, time to keep the unhelpful, unwanted comments to herself.

        "Anything else to add?"

        Hell no. "No," Willow replied meekly, "Except...what should we do about Buffy?"

        "I think that Tara's advice may be the best recourse for us at this point," Giles replied somewhat stiffly, more then usual, at  least, "I'm sure that...whatever sort of influence Spike had over her will fade in time..."

        "Okay...um...Giles? Influence? I don't think he was pelting her with pheromone bombs..." Willow frowned, "Do vampires have phero--" She caught herself in time, "I...I'm not sure that's going to happen any time soon," She finished lamely.

        "I..." Giles glanced over his shoulder, and Anya looked down at the cash register, pretending to be engrossed in a sales receipt, "Bloody hell, girl. You have the subtlety of a four-year-old with a drum. Take a break."

        Anya pouted, but obeyed. Paid break time was better then listening to Giles whine and moan about Spike yet again, but Xander wasn't there to bring her iced coffee. Giles waited till Anya was out the door and turned back to Willow. "I will admit...that Buffy seems more attached to him then I originally thought...but most of her anger, I believe, is rooted in the fact that we went over her head without speaking to her..."

        Willow barely resisted the urge to shake her head. Tara hadn't mentioned that fact, and Willow believed that if Buffy was really pissed about that, her girlfriend would have known. Ex-girlfriend...maybe...Willow tacked on as an afterthought morosely. "Ma-maybe," Willow sighed, sinking down in her seat. "Maybe...maybe we should try to fi-find Spike?" All right...looking at her like she had sprouted a second head wasn't the reaction she was going for.

        "Try to find Spike. Bloody brilliant idea that," Giles said sarcastically, "Even if we wanted to find him, we wouldn't even know where to begin looking. The bloody bugger could be anywhere on the planet by now."

        "Then what are we going to do?"

        "We wait for Buffy to calm down, and try to make her see reason," Giles replied, waving Willow away, "She'll just need a little time to sort things out in her mind, and then, I'm sure, she'll decide what we did was all for the best.”

        “Right…” Willow barely stifled a sigh, adding in her mind, with the appropriate amount of sarcasm, yeah…that'll happen sometime soon.

        Spike despondently stared out the window, watching the French countryside sped by. There wasn't much to see, since it was as black as pitch, save for the odd cow grazing near the tracks or glimpses of the odd lighted town.

        Spike shifted uncomfortably on the seat, his legs stretched across the gap to rest on empty seat in front of him. His new leather coat, shorter and less broken-in then his beloved duster, shifted stiffly with him, and he scowled in annoyance as a bump formed in the leather at the small of his back.

        He snarled to himself as he practically ripped it off of his shoulders and tossed it at the opposite seat, and sulked down farther in his seat, only to nearly fall over as the train started to slow, rolling to a stop at a train station.

        He watched through the window as a few, tired and haggard looking citizens boarded, and sighed as he glanced at his watch. It felt like he had been traveling forever, though, in actuality, it had only been about two weeks since his banishment from Sunnydale. Well…possibly only a week and a half, if you didn't count his two day long drinking spree in Reno…and the two days it took to annul his marriage to Ryelyn, the Marilyn Monroe look-alike-slash-female impersonator.

        Spike shuddered slightly, not sure whether to hope that he remembered what had happened during that drunken black-out…or thank the PTB that he couldn't recall anything past the sixth bottle of vodka.

        He groaned softly as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was falling apart, obviously. Every five seconds, something was reminding him of Buffy. For example, the cows…every time he saw cows, he'd think of Buffy mentioning cows touching her on weekdays. Same went when he tried to get his dinner from the butcher's. Blood-cow's blood-cows-Buffy! It was supremely frustrating. Seven Degrees of Buffy Bacon! Wait…that didn't sound right…great. Now whenever someone mentioned any sort of pork product, he'll think of Buffy.

        He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the vibrating window, the glass cool against his cheek, growling in frustration.

        He was tired, he was frustrated, he was lonely…and damn if he didn't miss Buffy and Dawn…and even a little bit Tara and Anya….hell…he was even missing the whelp a little bit; he was always good for a game of pool and a spare change. He almost added Willow and Giles' name to that list, but caught himself in time. Nope…they didn't deserve a place on the List of Loneliness.

        Bet by now, they're turned Buffy against me, he thought morosely, never be able to go back now…not ever again. Probably convinced her that I only bloody pretended to care to get in her knickers; second I step into that town again, I'm either dust by Red, Giles or Buffy's hand. Soddin' hell.

        That wasn't even the worst part of it all. Even if he had to once again face Buffy's hatred, he could deal with that. It'd hurt like hell, tear his bloody heart out of his chest…but at least, he'd still have his Nibblet. He was sure that no matter what anyone said about him, she'd still love him. However, dust particles, no matter how much you loved them, didn't really do anyone any good.

        Thus, he was at an impasse. He could stay away from Sunnydale, spending the rest of his unlife miserable and alone, until, eventually, unable to take it anymore, he either downed a bottle of Holy Water or walked out into sunlight. Or he could return to Sunnydale, spend most of his days miserable and alone, save for the days he got to see Dawn, waiting day to day for Buffy, Giles or Willow to eventually stake him…or eventually, unable to take it anymore, he'd down a bottle of holy water and walk out into sunlight once Dawn had forgotten about him as well.

        Spike slumped down in his seat, turning his despondent gaze out onto the French countryside, all the while thinking that he was truly one miserable bastard.

        “So…like…why do you want to work at `The Gap'?”

        Buffy forced herself to smile at the girl conducting her job interview. “Well…mostly because, according to the bank, I'm way overdue on the mortgage and they're THISCLOSE to foreclosing and kicking us out onto the street. My sister's jeans are starting too look like Capri pants because she didn't inherit my short gene and if I have to eat reheated macaroni and cheese ONE more night, I'm going to snap and torch the house for the insurance money…”

        That's what Buffy was tempted to say, at any rate. Instead, she smiled until the edges of her lips ached with the effort.

        “Well…um…I just love `The Gap',” Buffy tried to put the right amount of gush into her tone, “I mean…I bought clothes here and I always thought…WOW…it must be just great to work here…with…the customers and the register and pushing buttons and stuff…” Mentally, Buffy slapped her forehead and stopped her babbling before she could do some real damage. “And…uh…I just…like `The Gap'.”

         The supervisor conducting her interview narrowed her eyes slightly, and leaned forward a tiny bit, peering into Buffy's face. “You really need to exfoliate. We like our employees to have good skin…”

        “Wha-oh…um…okay,” Buffy decided to not question the absurdity of that policy. She really needed the job…and if that meant buying moisturizer, she'd do it…as long as she didn't have to dance around to lame-ass songs like on the commercials. The Slayer could handle anything but that.

        She could almost hear Spike's voice in her head right now.

        `Bloody hate this commercial,'  (insert growl here) `How's a couple of poncy git-preppies prancing around like a bunch of ballerinas supposed to sell clothing?!'

        That statement, of course, had been punctuated with several threatening gestures towards the TV.  Thinking of it now, Buffy was hard-pressed to hold back a little giggle; she had always been a little amused at the passion with which Spike watched television, as he did with everything else in his life…eh…unlife. His running commentary on everything was something she horribly missed now that he was gone, and hadn't appreciated it when he had been around.

        Buffy was now having to suppress a sigh, and rapidly drew herself to attention when she realized her name was being called, “Eh…sorry…what?”

        “Do you have like…any experience?” The interrogator repeated, huffing in annoyance.

        “Um…I fold laundry at home all the time,” Buffy replied, and the haughty look the self-important teenager gave her set her teeth on edge. “Not really, no.”

        “Oh, well…we advertised that we wanted someone with experience,” Was the reply, and Buffy gritted her teeth together. How much experience did someone need to work at the stupid Gap?! It wasn't exactly rocket science. It was folding sweaters and dressing mannequins in ugly ass striped sweaters. “We really don't want to have to go through the entire training process.”

        “I'm a quick learner,” Buffy asserted, feeling her heart sink into her stomach. If she didn't get this job, there'd be no way she could have the mortgage by the end of the month, and she was already two payments behind. That thought put a bit of desperation into her tone, “Listen…I really need this job…you won't get anyone else that work as hard as me! Unlike most of the bouncy-haired teens bouncing in here, I actually desperately this job!”

        “Yeah, well…” The look of sympathy on the girl's face made Buffy's stomach churn; it was as fake and as plastic as the expressions on the mannequins in the window. “We need someone with experience and…” She looked over Buffy's shoulder and grinned brightly, “And my next interview is here. We'll get back too you.”

        Buffy took a deep breath and nodded in resignation as she stood up. She was practically shoved aside as the other employment-hopeful brushed by her, and she turned, watching as the two girls squealed and embraced.

        Yeah…no way was she getting that job.

        Buffy dejectedly made her way up the walk later that night, weary from a hard patrol.

        It seemed like the vampires were out in full force these days. They were teeming especially in the downtown area of Sunnydale, and though there seemed to be more vampires, she was running into very few of them in the graveyards these days.

        Once again, another area Spike was dearly missed. Seeing as how she wasn't coming across many newly-risen vampires, but the activity hadn't lessened any, she had to attribute it to Spike's influence. She noticed that as soon as the news got around that Spike was gone, there were more vamps and more deaths in the obits that listed the death as animal attacks or PCP gangs. She had a hunch it had something to do that there had been no Master of Sunnydale since Spike's reign, and now that he was gone, the other vamps seemed to think it was up for grabs. She had already dusted a vampire that had been boasting that he was in charge of Sunnydale now.

        With any luck, the rest of the would-be Masters of Sunnydale would be as stupid and as young as him, but as of late, her luck really sucked. It would only be a matter of time before an older, and likely smarter, vampire to try and take over the Hell Mouth.

        Yeah, she was so looking forward to that. By now, there were probably already enough vampires to take her out if they ever got a little bit organized and figured out power was in numbers. Throw a Master into Sunnydale, capable of thinking beyond `me hungry, me horny, me hungry and horny,' and she was totally screwed.

        “Hey, Buff…hard night?”

        Buffy immediately brought up her stake, startled and ready for any attack.

        “WHOA! HEY!” Xander held up his hands, “Anya just bought me this shirt! She'll freak if you put a hole in it…and in me.”

        “Didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on the Slayer?” Buffy asked, lowering her stake and rotating her head on her stiff neck and tense shoulders, “Xander, if this is yet another attempt to convince me that Willow and Giles aren't in the wrong for doing what they did, I swear to God…I will stake you. Anya vengeance be damned. I've had a hard night and I'm really not in the mood.”

        “Oh, so not why I'm here…” Xander shifted uneasily, “Um…I just wanted to…um…” He sighed, giving up, “All right…so, that's why I'm here…”

        “Uh-uh,” Buffy moved towards the front door, but he stepped in front of her. “Xander…don't make me make you move.”

        “Listen…Buff…Wills and Giles feel really awful…”

        “Blah, blah, blah…not interested,” Buffy swerved around Xander and he let out a sound of exasperation.

        “Buffy, they were just doing what they thought was best for you…Spike was manipulating you…”

        Buffy whirled around, and Xander immediately fell back a few steps. “You know what? I'm getting REAL fucking tired of people telling me that Spike was manipulating me! You know who was manipulating me?! You, Willow and Giles! You're manipulating MY life, making MY choices, and screwing up my ENTIRE existence! So, why don't you go peddle your hypocritical bullshit somewhere else? `Cause I'm sure not appreciating it.”

        “Buffy, we just want what's best for you! Why don't you get that?” Xander persisted in pure bull-headiness. “You'd think you'd be grateful that we pulled you out of a hell-dimension and everything…but you just spit it back out at our faces!”

        “Oh, yeah, Xander, I'm real grateful!” Buffy snapped at him, “You know what? I'm tired of all this…I'm tired of pretending everything's hunky-dory with the world and Buffy, because it's NOT! I'm tired of everyone thinking I should be grateful because you guys were too damn stupid to take five seconds and figure out where I was before yanking me back!”

        Xander blinked in confusion, having lost his way during Buffy's angry tirade. “What are you talking about? You were in hell! Why would we…”

        “GOD!” Buffy raked her hands through her hair, letting out an almost hysterical laugh filled with bitterness. “I wasn't in HELL, Xander! I was in heaven! I was happy, and I was finally at peace!” She looked at him, her hazel eyes blazing angry, even as they filled with tears, “I was FINALLY able to rest! And you all stole that from me! You RIPPED me out of pure happiness and love! And don't try to tell me you did it out of love! That's BULLSHIT! You did it because YOU all wanted your normal lives, and have your happy little relationships and not have to deal with the everyday nitty-gritty details of keeping this stupid goddamn town safe!

        “And as soon as I was back, you expected me to be all happy and grateful to you guys, even though it was KILLING me! Seeing you all everyday, so damned smug and patting yourselves on the back for saving little old Buffy so that you can go back to your lives, hurt me so damned much that I was dying inside! And the only one…the ONLY one to see it was Spike! Not my supposed-best friends,  not my Watcher, SPIKE! And when I finally start feeling actually happy again, feeling more like my old self, Willow and Giles both decide to go and save poor little Buffy again! How many times are you people going to rip happiness from me!? HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO DIE INSIDE BEFORE YOU ALL WILL LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND LET ME LIVE MY OWN LIFE?!”

        She should have sucker-punched him, kicked him in the head…even driven her stake through his chest. It would have been kinder.

        As it was, Xander felt like he had been punched in the gut, as if all the air in his body had been knocked out of him. “Oh…Jesus…God, Buffy…I'm…” He faltered, not knowing what to say. `Hey! Buff! Sorry we ripped you out of heaven and ruined your life' just wouldn't cut it.

        She seemed to deflate in front him, the emotional and anger having taking the rest of her waning strength. When she went to run her hand over her eyes, it came away covered with moisture. “Just…don't come around here anymore, Xander…not for awhile at least. I just…can't stand to look at you right now…” She let herself into the house and closed the door on him when he tried to follow.

        As soon as Buffy was in the house, she collapsed.

        She sank down to the ground, great, wrenching sobs shaking her slight body. It was a cathartic release, though, a great boulder had finally been lifted from her shoulder. She finally shared her terrible secret. He was probably on his way to tell Willow and Giles…and finally, the redheaded witch would finally know what misery she wrought on her best friend.

        She felt warm, soft arms enfold her, and Buffy lifted her head to see Tara looking down at her with concern. “I…I told him…I told…Xander…ab-about heaven…” She only managed to get that out after several gulping breaths before collapsing into tears again.

        Dawn, who had been lingering on the stairs, somewhat shocked at seeing her usually strong sister reduced to a mess of tears, sent a confused look at Tara, who merely shook her head, and held out one of her arms.

        In half a second, Dawn was cradled on the other side of Buffy, Tara's arms around the both of them. She clutched onto her sister tightly, rocking back and forth with her, trying to wipe away Buffy's tears. She was a little bit scared to see her sister so broken, but she held on, giving what little comfort she could, knowing that for whatever reason, Buffy was hurting badly.

        After several minutes, Buffy managed to calm herself down some, and wiped her sleeve across her running nose and making a face. Dawn, seeing her sister a bit calmer, ventured to timidly ask, “Is…is that about Spike?”

        “Parts of it,” Buffy said quietly, “Just…I just got tired of everyone talking at me…and not knowing what the hell they're talking about.”

        “But…you said