Title: Burn for Me

Author: Emily

E-mail: emnorth2002@yahoo.com

Pairing: W/S, I promise! It will just take me a while to get there

Rating: PG for now, but it should move up to R later

Disclaimer: The basic premise and characters belong to lots of people who aren’t me.

Spoilers: Through "The Crush" (Joyce is alive, Dawn knows she’s the key, and everyone knows that Spike loves Buffy)

Section 1:

Research. That’s all they seemed to do any more. Ever since Dawn found out that she was the key, Buffy had been like a woman possessed. She hated that she couldn’t find anything to stop Glory. She tore through vamps on patrol. No one could keep up with her. Well, no one but Spike, and he knew better than to get too close. After he had admitted his crush, the Scoobies were all a little surprised that Buffy hadn’t staked him on sight. Which was probably why he was staying out of sight. Never far away, but always out of sight. He followed her on patrol, made sure she was protected when she got emotional and careless during a fight, and stayed in the shadows. Watching her. Protecting her. Loving her. Helping her the only way he could. And the rest of them helped with research, as always. They dug through book after book (or, in Willow’s case, website after website) looking for some way, any way, to defeat a God.

Giles was on his fourth cup of tea that evening, and he had cleaned his glasses twenty three times. But despite these classic Gilesian actions, there was something almost Ripperish in the desperation with which he searched through the books.

Anya was watching Xander, again. She still had trouble with the whole "humanity" thing. She couldn’t believe how much she loved him. She couldn’t believe that he loved her. She couldn’t believe that this man, her lover, teacher, only friend, was risking every thing they had to stand by his friend and fight a God. And she definitely couldn’t believe that she loved him enough to stay and help. She returned to her book (boring, alas, as they all were, not to mention completely lacking in useful information) but at the same time, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

Xander’s whole attention was divided between the book in his lap and the Twinkie he was shoving into his mouth, so he was surprised when he felt the warm pressure of Anya’s hand on his, but he turned, smiled at her, and squeezed her hand back. Maybe he really wasn’t as smart as the rest of him, or maybe he was just naïve, but he couldn’t seem to believe that the world was about to end. Buffy would save the day. She always did. They would help. They always did. They would survive and triumph and somehow manage to resolve everything by the end of May, so they could have a relatively tame summer. They always did. For a man with no real religion, Xander Harris had enormous amounts of faith. He believed in his friends, his FAMILY, with all his heart and soul. They’d find a way. They just had to keep looking. He squeezed Anya’s hand again, and returned to his book. And his Twinkie.

Willow’s eyes were burning from hours of staring at the computer, but she refused to look away. Buffy would be finishing patrol soon. She’d come to Giles’ and ask, as she did every night, if they had found something. Every night they had had to tell her no. Every night they had watched her face fall for that brief moment as she battled tears. Willow could not bear to see that look on Buffy’s face. She would find an answer. She had to find an answer. She just needed to keep looking.

Tara was bored. She sat on the couch, hoping that she looked absorbed in the book in front of her, and hoping no one noticed that she hadn’t turned the page in the past half hour. Of course, it wasn’t likely that anyone would notice. Willow was the only one who paid any attention to her, and even that consisted mostly of an occasional smile and mouthed, "I love you" across the room. Tara wanted out of there. Out of Giles’ apartment, out of Sunnydale, out of California. She wanted to go somewhere where no one had ever heard of a hellmouth. She loved Willow and wanted to be supportive but sometimes she felt like shaking some sense into the whole lot of them. How could they not realize that there is no way to defeat a God? They should be running like hell, all of them. Well, maybe not Buffy, since she was the chosen one. Let HER fight the big bad evil. That’s what she was SUPPOSED to do. She was the warrior, the saving grace, the protector. Hero was in her job description. But Tara knew that she, herself, was no hero. All she wanted to do was grab Willow and run for the hills. Instead, she was stuck here, researching. Again. Reading the same dull, pointless books that had nothing new to say. No wonder she was bored. After all, it’s not like any of them stood any chance of finding anything in this—

"I think I might have found something."

Section 2:

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Willow who was staring, fascinated, at the screen in front of her.

Xander finally broke the silence.

"Wills? What have you got?"

"Giles, what do you know about the Orchesankians?"

"They were those witches in St Petersburg in the 1600s, right?" Anya interjected. Everyone turned now to stare at her in silence.

"What!" she said. "I’ve lived for a millennium and a half! I’ve been around, alright? And besides, one of the witches fell in love with a man in the village. He found out that she was a witch and dumped her, so she called me, and had me—"

"Yes, well, as interesting as it would no doubt be to hear more information on that," Giles interrupted, to everyone’s visible relief, "perhaps we should move on. Anya’s information is, however, entirely correct. But why do you want to know about the Orchesankians, Willow?"

"Do you know anyone who has a copy of their Book of the Ancients?"

"Yes, I believe I could get my hands on a copy, though it would take a few days, of course. But I must ask again, why?"

"I may be crazy here, and this may kill us all, and I haven’t seen the spell, so I don’t know how it would work or if it would maybe call for something we don’t have like, I don’t know, dragon’s blood or something, and are dragons even real anyway? but since we’re all probably going to die anyway, maybe it would be better to die this way and it might work, you never really know and maybe there’s something that you can substitute for dragon’s blood or maybe we wouldn’t need it anyway ‘cause I was just using that as an example, and….

"Breathe, Wills. What is this thing that might kill us? I’m guessing it’s some kind of spell. Am I on the right track?"

"Yes, a spell. A spell that will call The First."

"Whoa!" shouted Xander, as he jumped up and started pacing around the room. "No First. The First is that thing that nearly made Angel pull an Angelus two Christmas’ ago. First equals bad. Why on earth would calling the First Evil help us?"

"Not the First Evil, Xan. The First Good. Think about it; when we had to defeat Adam, the ultimate demon, we called upon the ultimate Slayer. Now that we’re fighting the ultimate evil, a.k.a. a Hell God, we need to call upon the ultimate good. The First Good."

"The First Good?" Giles questioned, moving behind her to skim what she had read. "Good Lord. If this is possible…"

"Then we could defeat Glory, save Dawn, save the world. Do you think it will work, Giles?" Willow asked.

"I’ll…ah…have to get the book and see the spell. But there’s a chance. Yes, there is definitely a chance. Excellent work, Willow" he said, smiling down at her, as he cleaned his glasses yet again. "I’ll call my friend right now and see how we can get his copy. But until I’ve had a chance to look at the spell, we’d best not mention anything to Buffy. It wouldn’t do to get her hopes up."

Willow’s face fell. She had been looking forward to telling Buffy, imagining how her face would light up at the news. But Giles was right. They shouldn’t get their hopes up. They hadn’t even seen the spell yet. Willow squared her shoulders. It would work. She would MAKE it work. She was the hacker, the witch, the best friend. Fixing things was part of her job description. She’d fix this.

Giles returned a minute later. "We’re in luck," he stated. "My friend will let us use the book and, furthermore, he knows someone who will be passing this way this weekend, who can bring the book with them."

"This weekend? But it’s only Tuesday! Can’t he just mail it? Or UPS it? It would get here much faster, and we wouldn’t be putting his friend out of his way."

"No, Willow, I’m afraid the book is very powerful. It could do some real damage in inexperienced hands. It would be far too dangerous to mail it. We’ll just have to wait until this weekend."

"If we’ve found the book we need and we can’t get it till this weekend, does that mean we’re done here? Xander and I would like to go home and have sex now."

"Well, we should try to keep the appearance of normalcy as much as possible for when Buffy arrives…"

"Giles, Anya is right. Why don’t you let them go home? There’s nothing more we can do for the next few days. Tara and I can stay here researching to keep us appearances until Buffy gets back from patrol, right, baby?"

Tara wanted to say no. She wanted to ask why Xander and Anya got to go home while she and Willow had to stay and stare at musty books for another hour. She wanted to go home and have sex, too! But even as she opened her mouth to protest, she heard the words coming out "Y-y-yeah, fine. No problem, Mr. Giles." I’m such a wuss, she berated herself mentally. One of these days, she thought, I’m going to stand up for myself. But not today. No, today, I’ll return to my musty, boring book.

And that’s exactly what she did. Xander and Anya said their goodbyes, Giles got himself another cup of tea, Willow returned to the computer to see what more information she could find on the Orchesankians, and Tara went back to staring blankly at her book. An hour later, Buffy dragged in. They told her they hadn’t found anything new, but that they were still looking. Buffy nodded, and walked Willow and Tara home in silence.

Section 3:

The book arrived on Saturday. Giles had arranged to have it delivered in the morning, sending Buffy on a long patrol the night before so she would still be home, asleep, when it arrived. Giles and Willow nearly knocked heads more than once as they eagerly skimmed the contents, neither one able to wait for the other to finish before taking their turn. The book was part spell book, part journal. It described the trials the Orchesankians faced as well as detailing the spells they used to face them. There was a detailed description of the invocation of the first, and the setting in which it was used. Halfway through the description, Willow looked up eagerly, her eyes shining, and bounced over to Xander to give him a huge hug.

"It could work!" she squealed. "It could really work! Because they describe when they used it and apparently there was this whole army of really powerful demons and they had raised this creature from a hell dimension and the world was about to end, and they did the spell and it worked!" Xander grinned back at her and they started jumping up and down together, laughing, really laughing for the first time in weeks. And then—

"Good Lord, no." said Giles. They turned to face him. His face had gone ashen.

"What, Giles? What’s wrong?"

"The ritual."

"Yes, Giles, what about the ritual. Does it call for something we don’t have?"

"No, Willow it’s not what it needs, it’s what it does that worries me. I should have known. I should have suspected."

"Giles, you’re scaring me. What is it? Maybe we can work around it."

"The ritual, it calls the First to inhabit the body of the recipient. But once the First enters the body, it forces the soul out."

"So you’re saying if Buffy does the ritual, we’ll have an evil soulless Buffy, even though she’ll still be alive?"

"No, Xander, I’m saying if Buffy does this ritual, when the soul is forced out of her, after the First is finished and has evacuated her body, she will die."

"Die?" they heard a voice from the doorway. They turned and saw Buffy standing there, with a look of shock on her face. They had no idea how much she had heard, but she had obviously caught the last part. "Giles, I have to die?"

Giles was obviously struck speechless. Xander refused to make eye contact with anyone. Willow took a deep breath, and took charge. "Giles, hand me the book" she said quietly. He did. "Buffy, have a seat, I’ll explain it to you from the beginning." Buffy sat. So did Willow, next to Buffy on the couch. She took Buffy’s hand. Buffy, still shell-shocked by what she had heard, was staring straight ahead. "Look at me, Buffy." Buffy didn’t respond. Willow gently placed her fingers around Buffy’s jaw and turned her face, so she could look her in the eye. "It will be alright, Buffy. I promise. We’ll find a way to make this work."

It worked. Buffy seemed to come out of her state of shock. She gave Willow a weak smile. "What is it you’ve found?" she asked, quietly. Willow skimmed over the book. From what Giles had said, she had a pretty good idea about what she’d find. She sighed, closed the book, and turned to Buffy.

"About four hundred years ago, a bunch of witches in Russia had to save the world from a group of demons who had raised their leader from hell. They created a ritual that would summon the First Good, kind of like when we summoned the First Slayer. It worked. They defeated the bad guys and saved the world. I found reference to this on line last Tuesday." At this, Buffy looked like she was about to protest, so Willow was quick to continue. "We didn’t want to get your hopes up until we had all the information and found out whether or not it would work against Glory. Giles had a friend send this book, which has all the information on how to perform the ritual, and how it worked before. Apparently, it works a lot like being vamped. The First takes over your body, kicking out your soul. It’s still your body, but it’s being run by the First. The First will target your memories to identify the enemy and then destroy it. The problem is when the enemy has been destroyed. Unlike being vamped, the First doesn’t stay inside. Once the mission has been completed, the First departs, and the body is left without a soul or a demon to sustain it."

"Dead." Buffy said dully. "I’ll be dead. But I’ll have saved the world" she said, looking up hopefully at Willow, "I’ll have saved the world, and Dawn will be safe, right? I can do that. I mean, I’m the Slayer. Isn’t this how it’s supposed to end?"

"Buffy, no!" Willow exclaimed. "You’re NOT going to die. We’re going to find a way around this."

"Willow," Giles interjected, "I’m afraid Buffy may be right. She is, after all, the Chosen One. We knew the day would come when she would give her life to save the world. Buffy, you know I love you like a daughter. You don’t have to do this. It’s your choice. I’ll support you either way."

"Giles, don’t say that! We’ll find a way. What about the restoration spell? Can’t we return her soul like we did to Angel?"

"No, Willow, that spell only works on vampires because the demon is still there to keep the mind from dying when the soul leaves and—"

"So you’re saying a vampire could perform this ritual and survive?"

"Yes, but it would be far too dangerous for Angel to do this. We would have no way to know when it was safe to re-soul him. We’d be letting out Angelus."

"Yes" Willow said, distractedly. She had stopped listening after Giles had said yes. She was coming up with a solution. It might not work, but she had to at least try it. After all, there was a vampire right there in Sunnydale who would do anything for the slayer. And he had no soul to get in the way.

"Giles, Buffy, don’t do anything drastic. I have another resource that I want to check out. How about we meet back here after lunch?" They nodded in response. Willow went to the couch to grab her purse. She leaned over to whisper in Tara’s ear "I’ll be back soon, baby, and I’ll explain everything, I promise." She placed a quick kiss on her cheek and whispered, "I love you" before heading out the door.

Section 4:

Spike could hear the knocking, but he couldn’t understand it. Who the hell would be knocking on the door of his crypt? The slayer always simply barged in, and he didn’t know many other people who made house calls, particularly during the day. Besides, he didn’t know anyone who knocked, did he? Of course, the fact that his mental processes were clouded by an enormous hangover didn’t help him figure it out.

The knocking started again, slightly louder this time.

"Bloody hell, come in already, just stop the damn knocking," he yelled, and then groaned. Mental note, he told himself, no more yelling until the hangover faded. Of course, he knew that as soon as the hangover faded, he’d just start drinking again. Ever since the slayer had rejected him, he had spent most of his time trying to drown his sorrows. They were difficult to drown, but he was not one to give up easily. Hence the weeklong binge. And the hangover to end all hangovers. At least the knocking had stopped. The door opened slowly, tentatively.

"Sp-p-pike?" a soft voice said, questioningly.

"Witch." he answered, recognizing her eventually. "What do you want?"

"Are you alright?" she asked, moving closer.

"I’m hung-over, pet. So I’d appreciate it if we could move this along. So. What. Do. You. Want?"

Instead of answering, she walked over to him and laid a surprisingly gentle hand on his forehead. She closed her eyes and murmured a few words in Latin. A gentle, golden light rose from her hand and passed into him. He felt his mind clear. The hangover was gone.

"Nice trick, pet." he said. He arranged the pillows behind him and lay back against them, never taking his eyes off of her. "Have a seat," he said. She looked around, but didn’t see any chairs. He gestured that she should sit on the end of the bed. She sat, stiffly. "Well, now that we’re all comfortable, want to tell me why you did that?"

Willow was nervous. Very nervous. Yes, she knew Spike was chipped and he couldn’t hurt her, but she had never really gotten over her fear of him. She certainly wasn’t comfortable having a conversation with a vampire in a crypt, and the fact that she was sitting on his bed, with him watching her in that way he had…well, let’s just say it wasn’t making her more comfortable with the situation. But, she reminded herself, she was here for Buffy. She had to do this, might as well get it over with. She squared her shoulders and organized her thoughts.

"I have a proposition to make to you. As hung-over as you were when I walked in, I doubt you would have been able to understand what I was saying. It’s a simple enough spell, your mind should be clear now. Is it?"

"Yes" he answered. "So, let’s hear how you want to proposition me" he said, with a smirk.

Damn evil vampire. He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. She had spent the whole walk over trying to come up with the perfect way to tell him, but she hadn’t had much luck. Maybe it would be better to spit it out. He was starting to look impatient. But no, she had to explain. She had to find a way to make him understand.

"Buffy told me about when the two of you made the deal to stop Acathla. You said that you liked this world. That you liked England, and soccer, and all the people, ‘happy meals on legs,’ right?" He didn’t respond, so she kept going. "Well, Glory’s going to end the world. Well, not end it exactly, but sort of open all the doors to hell and let in all the demons, and they’ll kill everyone and destroy everything, and the world won’t be over exactly, it will just be really messy and the people will be dead and I really don’t think anyone will play soccer any more, except maybe the demons, and do demons even play soccer? and even if they do—"

"You’re babbling again. And cute as that may be, why don’t you get to the point."

He thought her babbling was cute? That was unexpected…but wait, that wasn’t the point. He wanted her to get to the point.

"Right. So. Do you, um…. do you want to save the world again? Because I found a way that you could."

He raised an eyebrow, but still did not speak, so she continued. She tried not to babble, even though he did seem to think it was cute. Hmmm, she'd think more about that later.

"I found reference to a ritual, done by a group of witches in Russia in the seventeenth century. The Orchesankians, have you heard of them?" Still no response. She continued. "They channeled the First Good, and managed to defeat a group of demons."

"An army." he said quietly.

"What?"

"It wasn’t just a group of demons, it was an army. They had raised Lucifer from hell, and he was building an army to take over the earth. The witch who performed the ritual faced Lucifer in single combat and drove him back into hell. Without him, the demon army crumbled. The blokes he picked were big and strong, but not too bright. They couldn’t tie their shoes on their own, much less take over the world." He hadn’t moved through is speech, staying reclined against the pillows. But at this point, he started the slowly pull himself forward. "But the witch who performed the spell was human. A damn powerful human and a hell of a fighter, even without the powers, but still a human." He started to slide forward on the bed, toward the spot where Willow sat, frozen, like a deer in headlights, unable to move. "And so, WITCH" he said, practically on top of her at this point, "I don’t quite see how you need me to save the world." He could hear her heart pounding. He knew it was petty, but he loved to play with the little witch. It was so easy to twist her into knots. He was enjoying her reaction to him, but he realized that if he kept this up, he’d never get the answers he wanted out of her. He sat back, still close to her, but no longer on top of her. "Well?" he finally asked, when the silence had lasted too long for his impatient nature. "Are you going to tell me or just sit there and stare?"

Willow abruptly snapped out of her trance. She knew she must look like an idiot, sitting there, staring at Spike. But he did have the most beautiful eyes, and when they were focused right on you, you became aware of the incredible intensity behind them and it was…breathtaking. Spike was breathtaking. Not that she was interested! NO! Of course she wasn’t interested! She had Tara, she was happy with Tara, she was gay now! She could just appreciate his beauty…like…um…Michelangelo’s David! Yes! She thought it was beautiful, but she definitely wasn’t attracted to it, after all, it was just a chunk of stone, marble probably and *I bet Spike feels like marble, hard and cold* her subconscious teased her, NO!! BAD WILLOW!! Now was not the time to be regressing to that old crush she used to have on Spike. She took a deep breath, pulled herself off the bed and stood, nervously next to it, bracing herself for what she was about to tell Spike.

"She died. The witch who performed the spell. She saved the world, but it killed her. A mortal can’t survive the ritual, only a demon could live through it."

"And why is that?"

"The ritual, it calls for possession by the First. And when the first takes possession of the body—"

"It kicks out the soul." Spike answered for her.

"Yes." she answered, pleased that he understood.

"So you thought you’d come running to the soulless demon who’s the slayer’s little lapdog and he’d jump at the chance to save the world."

"Well," stammered Willow, "yeah."

"So I guess you’ll be pretty disappointed when I tell you that my answer is no."

"N-n-no? B-b-but, I thought…"

"You thought I’d be thrilled to do something for the slayer, delighted to put my unlife at risk to save her AGAIN without even a bloody THANK YOU, that I’d do anything on the chance, just the CHANCE that she might look at me with something other than DISGUST" Spike had gotten up now and was pacing around the crypt, as his voice grew steadily louder "And if that’s how she bloody well feels then she can see how far she gets saving the world without me, without me there to protect her, take care of her" Spike’s voice started to break and suddenly grew soft as he stopped pacing and stood, with his back to Willow, "to love her." His shoulders slumped. "Do you know what she said to me, witch? When I offered her Dru’s heart on a platter, offered to give up everything I’ve ever had or wanted just to please her? When I told her she was my whole world and I’d do anything for her, she told me…that the only chance I had with her…was when she was unconscious."

His voice was soft, Willow could barely hear it, but she couldn’t miss the bitterness behind the words. Her eyes widened. Buffy had told her what had happened, but it appeared she had left out some details. Willow couldn’t believe Buffy had been so unfeeling. A rush of sympathy washed over her and she started to approach the vampire, to try and comfort him, but he started talking again.

"And now you think I’ll save the world for her? What good would it do me? No, witch" he said, turning to face her. "My answer is no."

He meant it. She could tell. She shifted into beg mode.

"Spike, please reconsider. At least think about it. What do I have to say to make you say you’ll think about it?"

She saw a spark rise in his eye, and felt a shiver of apprehension. He was forming a plan. This was bad. Spike’s plans usually led to trouble. Oh, Goddess, what was she getting herself into?

"Alright, pet, I’ll think about it" he said, his voice smooth as silk, all traces of bitterness hidden as he smirked at her "but you think about this. I’ll agree to do the ritual on one condition."

Here he paused, and Willow got even more nervous. This would not be a good condition. She could tell. Dear Heavens, what was he going to ask? Wild speculations flew through her head, but were silenced a moment later when he once again began to speak.

"My condition is…the slayer… will have… to perform… the ritual of a Tzeranza Bonding. She’ll have to bind herself to me" he said, his voice once again growing softer and Willow could tell he was talking to himself more than to her, "she’ll burn for me. See how it bloody well feels to need someone that—" Abruptly, he pulled himself back together. "Tell her, witch. The Tzeranza Bonding. That’s the only way I’ll do it."

"Tzeranza Bonding? But I don’t know what that is!"

"The watcher will know." he said, dismissing her. He returned to his bed, and reclined again, lighting a cigarette. "Run along now, witch. Run along."

Willow opened her mouth to reply, but realized she had nothing to say. She gathered herself together and headed outside where she stood still for a moment, dazzled by the sunlight, and dazed by her conversation. And then she headed for Giles.

Section 5:

"…and then he said he'd perform the ritual if Buffy agreed to perform
the ritual of a Tzeranza Bonding. He said you'd know what that
means." Willow concluded.

The meeting with Spike hadn't taken as long as she planned, so Giles
had been the only one there when she returned to the watcher's
apartment. Willow had been relieved. She wanted an explanation of the
bonding before everyone else showed up. She had explained her entire
conversation to Giles (though she had left out the part where he said
her babbling was cute. That was something for her to think about
later, on her own). He had been more than a bit put out that she had
gone to Spike for help, but he understood her reasoning. Then she had
stated Spike's condition. For a moment, there was absolute silence.
Then, to her absolute shock, Willow watched as Giles headed over to a
cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. Oh, Goddess, this was bad.
Well, it's not like she had expected it to be good; after all,
Spike's plans were rarely the kind that had the good guys jumping up
and down with joy, but this reaction was a little…extreme…even given
the situation.

"Giles?" she said, hesitantly. "Um, Giles?" she repeated, a little
louder, as she watched him search for a glass. "Giles!" she yelled,
when she saw him give up on a glass and start chugging the Scotch
straight out of the bottle. She ran over to him and jerked the bottle
out of his hand. "Giles, if you don't start telling me what the
Tzeranza Bonding is in the next five seconds, then so help me
Goddess, I'll—"

"The Tzeranza Bonding will bind Buffy to Spike." Giles said quietly.

"Yeah, Giles, I sort of picked up on that with the whole `bonding'
thing being part of the name. That doesn't answer my question. What
kind of bond are we talking about?"

"The Tzeranza Bonding targets the body. Buffy will need him, crave
him, be unable to survive without him. But unlike other bonding
ceremonies, it doesn't touch the mind. She'll still hate him, despise
him, be disgusted by his very presence but she'll be unable to stand
being separated from him."

Willow remembered Spike's voice just before she had left the crypt "…
she'll burn for me. See how it bloody well feels to need someone
that…" that what? But wait, what was the rest of what Giles had said?

"What kind of need are we talking about here, Giles? When you say
need, do you mean that she'll *need* him to…um…well…" Willow blushed
furiously and was unable to continue.

Giles looked bewildered for a minute, but soon caught on to her
implication. Then he, as well, began to blush and stammer. "No!…ah…
decidedly not…that is to say,…what she will…ahem…require…is to be
near him. No…ah…physical contact is required."

"So she'll have to be near Spike? All the time? And what about him,
will he have the same need to be around her?"

Giles seemed glad to have moved past the more…ahem…intimate questions
and eagerly entered into a more technical discussion.

"The recorded cases of the Tzeranza Bonding are sadly under-
documented, but from what I understand, the object of the bond; in
this case, it would be Spike; will act on her system as a type of
drug. When she is near him, she will feel and behave perfectly
normally. But the longer she is away from him, the more uncomfortable
she will become. At first, it will be merely a restlessness. From
there, it will grow into a low grade fever. The fever will increase
steadily if she does not see him. Eventually, it will drain all her
strength. The fever could, conceivably, kill her. But the most
distressing thing about the bond is that it is completely one sided.
Spike would not feel even minor discomfort while Buffy was quite
literally dying for him."

"She wouldn't." Willow answered abruptly.

Giles was caught off guard.

"I beg your pardon?"

"She wouldn't be dying for him. He wouldn't let it go that far. He
doesn't want to kill her. If he killed her or even simply allowed her
to die, it would be over. It's the pain that he wants. He wants her
to burn for him, to need him, crave him, be unable to survive without
him" *like he does for her* she added silently "…forever. And it is
forever, isn't it, Giles? Once the bond is formed, can it ever be
broken?"

"Technically speaking, the bond can be broken, but not by any outside
forces. The only way Spike would lose his hold over Buffy was if he
voluntarily chose to give it up."

"Buffy would rather die." Willow stated sadly. It was almost
laughable. How many times a day was that expression used? How many
girls, at that exact moment, were saying that they'd "rather die"
than take that Chemistry test, or wear that dress their mother picked
out? Why couldn't their important decisions be on that scale? But no,
if Buffy would, truly, rather die than be bonded to Spike (and Willow
had no doubt what Buffy's choice would be) then in no time at all,
Buffy would be really, truly, literally and everlastingly dead.
Willow felt her resolve face slip into place. She had yet another
idea.

"Buffy has four options." Willow stated to Giles. "She can accept and
be bonded to Spike. She can refuse and undergo the ritual herself,
which she knows will kill her. She can wait it out and hope we find
another solution, which isn't very likely. Or…"

"Yes, Willow? What is it? What's the fourth option?"

But Willow shook her head. "I have another plan, Giles. But this
isn't something I can decide on by myself. We need to call the gang."
Giles opened his mouth to interrupt. "I know that they'll be here
soon, anyway, but I'm tired of waiting. We need to get this resolved.
Why don't you call Xander and Anya, and I'll use my cell to call Tara
and then Buffy?"

Giles looked prepared to argue, to insist on an explanation, but he
stopped himself. He knew that it would be pointless to argue with
Willow when she was wearing the resolve face. He'd simply be wasting
his time. Once everyone got there, they'd find out what the fourth
option was. He had a very strong feeling that he wasn't going to like
it. He knew that Willow was contemplating some insanity to save
Buffy. He just hoped he'd be able to argue his way around the resolve
face when the "solution" was finally heard.
---

Section 6:

Xander and Anya showed up first. Xander, of course, was impatient to
know what was going on, but Anya soon had him sufficiently distracted
to the point where Willow was able to avoid his questions. Buffy
showed up next. She looked pale and sad, but resigned. Willow knew
she was getting herself ready to die.

Tara was the last to show up. She hadn't intended to be late. Truth
be told, she hadn't intended to come. She had decided to put her foot
down and tell Willow that she couldn't handle this anymore. After
all, they had found the ritual. Buffy would be able to save the
world. Buffy was going to die, it was *inevitable*! What was the good
in sticking around to watch? They should get out of there while they
still could.

She had spent all morning after Willow went to explore her "other
option" planning out exactly how she would explain all of this to
Willow the next time they talked. But when Willow called and told her
to meet the rest of the gang at Giles', she had crumbled again. She
had walked slowly, giving herself a pep talk as she went, growing
increasingly determined to have it out with Willow. But as soon as
she saw the rest of the gang, she shrank back into herself, as
always. After all, she reasoned, the conversation would keep until
they were alone.

"Well, Wills, the gang's all here. What's the sitch?" Xander asked,
before Tara had even had a chance to sit down. Willow flashed Tara an
apologetic smile and took her hand to pull her down on the couch next
to her. She held on to her hand, tracing small circles on the back of
it with her thumb, and she began to explain to the group.

"Okay, first, I want everyone to promise that you won't interrupt
until I'm finished. I have a lot to say, and you're probably not
going to like most of it but hear me out before you say anything.
Agreed?"

They nodded their agreement, and she continued.

"After Giles said that the ritual would work on a vampire without
killing him, I went to see Spike." Willow saw Xander and Buffy about
to protest and raised her hand in a warning signal. "Not till I'm
finished. You promised." Reluctantly, they nodded. "I told him about
the ritual. He'd heard of it before. He said that he could do it, but
he had one condition. Now, before you freak out, let me just say that
this condition is not an option, and I fully plan to tell Spike the
same thing."

"Tell them the condition, Willow. They have the right to know."

"I know they do, Giles. Please, no interruptions. I need to get
through this. Spike's condition was that Buffy undergo the Tzeranza
Bonding ritual with him. According to Giles, this ritual would
require Buffy to spend time near Spike on pretty much a daily basis.
If she avoided him or if he avoided her, it could make her seriously
ill." Willow watched the look of disgust cross Buffy's face and felt
a momentary spurt of annoyance. After all, Spike came to the Scooby
meeting and helped in research and patrolling. Buffy had even had him
watch over her family on a few occasions. She obviously didn't find
his presence distasteful when she needed to use him for something.

"Now, I know that that's not an option." Willow continued. "But it
gave me an idea. Maybe the only thing in the world that Spike wants
more than Buffy is to get rid of the chip in his head. I think we can
figure out how to do it. And I think he'd agree to do the ritual if
we agreed to take out the chip once it was over." Willow rushed on
ahead before anyone had the chance to react. "It's really a win-win
situation, if you think about it. The chip is bound to break down
some day when we least expect it. If we're the ones to take it out,
at least we'll have prior warning and can un-invite him from all of
our houses. Besides, he has ruined his rep in Sunnydale by falling in
love with the slayer. Once the chip is out, he'll probably head out
of town. And if he chooses to stay, Buffy can dust him without
feeling guilty about him being unable to defend himself. Either way,
we'll be rid of him, and we'll be rid of Glory. The ritual won't hurt
him and he's a strong enough fighter to be able to pull it off. We
save the world, get rid of Spike in a guilt-free way, and Buffy and
Dawn get to live happily ever after."

Willow stopped there and waited for their reactions. Silence.

"Oh yeah, that's it. I'm done. You can talk now."

"Buffy, don't slay me, but.I think it's a good idea." Xander stated,
tentatively.

"So do I." Anya added quickly.

Willow saw Giles nodding his head in agreement and saw Tara flash her
a small smile. Hesitantly, she turned to Buffy to see her reaction.

"Willow," the slayer said quietly, "You've found a way to save the
world, keep me and Dawn alive, and get rid of Spike. Have I told you
lately that you're a genius?" and with a big grin (the first real
grin Willow had seen from her in longer than she cared to remember),
she rushed over to Willow and drew her into a huge hug.

Willow felt close to tears. This was actually going to work. She
hugged Buffy back. This was going to work. She pulled away and smiled
at the slayer.

"I'll go tell Spike."

"Willow, are you sure you should go alone to talk to him? Maybe I
should come with you."

"Buffy, it's alright. Spike can't hurt me. It's broad daylight
outside, so I'm not worried about getting attacked by someone else in
the cemetery. Besides, maybe it's best if Spike doesn't see you when
he's told his options."

Buffy looked inclined to argue, but even she couldn't deny that
Willow was right. Besides, the less time she spent with Spike, the
happier she was.

"Alright, then, but hurry. When you get back, we need to celebrate!"

Willow laughed and turned to Tara. "I'll be back soon, baby. And then
we can head home and spend the night in. I'm pretty sure Giles will
give us the night off" she said with a smirk, looking over at the
watcher. "Just think! No research, no patrol, just the two of us."
And she flashed Tara that special smile of hers, the one that showed
how ecstatic she was at the idea of spending time with the person she
loved. Tara smiled back, hesitantly, and opened her mouth to speak.
But before she had a chance to figure out what she wanted to say,
Willow had given her a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed her purse,
and headed out the door.

Willow started humming as she walked toward the cemetery. Finally,
she had a solution that would please everyone. Buffy would be happy,
Dawn would be happy, even Spike would be happy! (She had a momentary
pang of concern for the innocent people who would be victimized by
Spike's newfound ability to be "happy" but she quenched it
immediately. Spike had been a bloodsucking vampire for a hundred
years before she had even been born. She refused to feel accountable
for his victims. Besides, she had meant it when she said the chip
could short out any day, unexpectedly. With the collapse of the
Initiative, she was actually surprised it hadn't happened already.)
Joy all around.

She was so happy, she forgot one essential fact. She forgot that she
was dealing with Spike. The same Spike, who in the four years they
had known him, had never ceased to surprise them with his unexpected
behavior. The same Spike who would not be pleased that his offer had
been refused. The same Spike who would, no doubt, have some ideas of
his own about the terms of his agreement. She forgot all of this. But
she would be reminded soon enough.

Section 7:

This time, when Spike heard the knocking on the crypt door, he knew
what to expect. He had wondered how long her little meeting with the
watcher and the slayer would take. Truth be told, he was surprised
she was back this quickly. He frowned to himself, wondering if the
speed made it more likely or less likely that the slayer would agree
to his demands. He shook his head abruptly. No point in wasting time
wondering when there was a little redhead right on the other side of
the door with all of the answers that he needed.

"Come in, witch!" he yelled, then smiled. That hangover-be-gone spell
she had performed had really done the trick. With all the drinking he
had been doing lately, it had been days since he had been able to
yell without a headache.

The door slowly opened, revealing one very nervous witch. He watched
with growing impatience as she stayed near the door, obviously
hesitant about moving forward.

"Shut the bloody door, pet, and come all the way in. Wouldn't want
the pesky sunlight to ruin our conversation."

Obedient little thing, isn't she? he thought to himself as she shut
the door quickly and scurried further into the crypt.

"So, witch," he said, trying to keep the hope and anticipation out of
his voice, "what's the verdict? Will we be having a bonded slayer or
a dead slayer?"

"What if I said there was a third option?" Willow asked quietly.

"I told you those were the only two options I would consider." Spike
growled. This was not going well. The slayer's answer must have been
no. He should have known. No matter what he did to prove his devotion
to her, no matter how hard he tried to get her to see him as
something other than a monster, she would still rather be dead than
have any kind of need for him. He turned away from Willow. He needed
another drink.

Willow was growing annoyed. She was sick of walking into a room and
having the men automatically go for the alcohol. Moving with new
determination, she rushed forward and stepped in front of Spike. She
blocked him from his stash of booze, looking him straight in the eye
as she said:

"Here me out, Spike. It won't take long. There will still be plenty
of the night left to get drunk in."

Surprised at her sudden show of spirit, Spike took a step back.
Willow shivered as she watched him scan his eyes over her, evaluating
her, slowly and deliberately.

"Such spirit, pet. Didn't know you had it in you. What else have you
been hiding?" He started to circle her, checking her out from every
side. She kept her eyes facing forward, resisting the temptation to
turn to watch him. She could feel his eyes on her and tried to ignore
the effect that they had on her, the effect that *he* had on her.

He could hear her heart rate pick up as he dragged out the silence,
and hid a smile. She was more entertaining than alcohol anyway.
Besides, she was right. He could still get plastered once she
left. "Alright, then. What's the third option?"

"What if I offered you a trade?"

"What do you have that I want?" he asked, still circling.

"What if I could disable the chip? Would that be worth it?"

He stopped abruptly. "What did you say?"

It so happened he had stopped almost directly behind her. Willow
turned slowly and looked him in the eye once again. She took a step
closer, maintaining eye contact. She didn't even blink.

"If I could disable the chip, would you agree to perform the ritual?"

His eyes pierced into hers, as if he was trying to read her soul.
Whatever it is he saw, it obviously surprised him.

"Bloody hell. You really mean it, don't you?" he whispered. She
nodded, silently, still holding his gaze unblinkingly.

"I need a drink" she heard him mumble as he walked over to his
bottles of alcohol once again. He twisted the top of a bottle of
scotch and took a swig. "Want some, pet?" he offered derisively,
fully expecting her to say no.

"Make it a double." she replied, going to sit on the end of the bed.
She had a feeling that this conversation was going to take a while.
She might as well get comfortable. And goodness knows that in the
situation she was in, it would take a double shot of whiskey at the
very least to get her feeling comfortable.

Spike recovered from his surprise quickly and seated himself next to
her on the edge of the bed. Silently, he offered her the bottle. She
looked at it in obvious distaste.

"Don't you have any glasses?"

"Never bother with them, myself. Never saw the need. After all, it's
not like I need to worry about catching anyone's germs."

He had a point, Willow reasoned. Oh, what the hell. Life is short,
especially on the hellmouth. She took a swig. She winced as the harsh
alcohol hit her throat, but she felt the warmth of it burn all the
way down. It was nice to feel some warmth; the crypt was freezing.
She was busy wondering if the cold ever bothered Spike, or if he
could even feel it, when he spoke again.

"Do you know how to disable my chip?"

She sighed. Back to business. "No. I don't. But before you say
anything, I know that I could find a way. There isn't much I don't
know about computers. Not to mention, I could always do a spell, if
it came to that. I promise you, Spike. If you save the world, I'll
get rid of that chip."

The chit was out of her mind if she thought he'd let her do another
spell on him. Although now, looking back, having the slayer in love
with him was not such a bad memory to have. He shook his head. No, no
more spells for Spikey. Knowing his luck, this time he'd end up
engaged to the moron. He shivered at the prospect. The technology
route seemed safer. There was no denying the witch knew her way
around a computer. But still, why wait? He eyed the bottle and noted
the size of the drink she had taken. She seemed the type to have
pretty low tolerance. Maybe she'd be open to a little. suggestion?

"Why not get rid of it first? I'll save the world once it's gone.
That way, if I die saving the world, you'll have the comfort of
knowing that you paid all of your debts."

"I'm not that drunk, Spike. I could never get the others to agree to
that."

He looked up at her in surprise. Did she realize what she had just
said? Or had he heard her wrong? "You'd never get the others.does
that mean that you'd agree to it?"

"Sure" she said, reaching for the bottle and taking another swig,
oblivious to the shocked expression on his face.

"You would trust a vampire to keep their word?" he asked with a hint
of derision in his tone. And she was supposed to be the smart one!
She was just too bloody innocent for her own good.

"I don't" she answered. Ah, yes, well, that made more sense, he
thought. "I trust you to act in your own best interest. The one time
you gave Buffy your word, that you would turn against Angelus, you
kept it. Not because you would never break your word, but because you
wanted to be rid of Angelus as much as she did."

She had a point.

"Why do you think I'd keep my word about this?"

"Once you get that chip out, you have over a year of fighting and
biting and torturing humans to make up for. I'm kinda thinking you
wouldn't want the world to end and spoil all of your fun."

Yes, she had a *very* good point. Once he got that blasted chip out
he wasn't about to let some whacked-out goddess ruin his nice, tasty
world. But there was still one problem.

"You lot won't trust my promise. Fair enough, no real reason why you
should. But it begs the question, why should I trust you?"

She looked at him, confused. "I don't understand."

Maybe it had been a mistake letting her drink so much. Oh, well, no
use crying over spilt scotch. "If I do the ritual, if I save the
world, how do I know you'll keep your word and take out the chip?
None of you have seemed too eager to do anything about the chip so
far. Why should I trust you?"

She blinked. She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. He was
right. There was no reason why he should trust them. Well, they were
the good guys and the good guys, historically speaking, usually kept
their word, but she really didn't think he'd buy that. No reason why
he should, she reminded herself. He's a soulless demon, the only
reasoning he understands is self-interest. And he's right, it
wouldn't be in our best interests to have him running around
unchipped. That's why we haven't done anything about it so far.

Spike could literally see her mind working. It was an interesting
sight to watch. Even drunk, and he had no doubt that she was drunk by
now, she still thought things out so carefully. So very carefully, in
fact, that she seemed hardly aware of Spike at all. If she had been
watching him at that moment, she would have noticed the spark that
suddenly came into his eye. The spark that always meant he had an
idea. But she missed it.

"In order for me to trust you, I'd have to believe that you wanted
the chip out, right?"

"Right" she agreed automatically.

"In order for me to believe that you wanted the chip out, I'd have to
know that you have some incentive, some reason to be pleased that the
chip would come out, right?"

"Right" she agreed.

"In order for you to be pleased that the chip would come out, I'd
have to have something you wanted that you wouldn't get until the
chip was out, right?"

"Right" she said, after a brief hesitation. She had no idea where
this was going. But everything he had said so far made sense.

"So if one of your little group was bonded to me and I agreed to
remove the bonding once the chip was removed, then we'd both get what
we wanted, wouldn't we?"

"Right.wait, what? No! No bonding, I already told you that Buffy
would rather die than be bonded to you."

He winced at her word choice. Yes, he knew Buffy would rather be dead
than bonded to him, but did she have to point it out so bluntly?

"I didn't say Buffy, now did I, pet?"

"If not Buffy, than who?"

He smiled, that predatory smile of his that always sent shivers down
her spine. Whatever the answer was, she knew she wouldn't like it.

"You."
---

Section 8:

Too much alcohol, she thought. That was the only explanation. Could
alcohol make you hallucinate? Because there was no way that Spike had
just said what she thought he said. It must be the alcohol.

"What?" she finally managed to say.

He was relieved to hear her speak. For a moment, he had thought she
was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"It's called a trade, love. I get something I want, you get something
you want, and everyone is happy."

"You want. me?" she asked, still obviously bewildered.

"No."

"Oh." she said, wondering why she felt disappointed.

"I want Buffy. I want this bloody chip out of my head. I want to
watch Angelus' ashes blow away in the wind. I want the Gem of Amara
back on my finger. I want the Bronze to put the blooming onion back
on their menu. And I want to get the hell away from this fucking
Hellmouth with my unlife still intact. But since I can't have
everything that I want, I suppose I'll have to settle for what I can
get."

"And what, exactly, are you planning to get?"

"Here's my offer, pet. No bargains, alterations, or negotiations. You
bind yourself to me. I save the world. You find out how to get rid of
the chip. I free you, you free me, and I get the hell out of town. Do
we have a deal?"

So that was it. For a moment, she had worried *or was it hoped?* (her
subconscious asked) no, WORRIED, definitely worried, that Spike had
decided to bind her to him, forever. Just like the attack in the dorm
room. He couldn't have Buffy so he'd settle for Willow. He'd make her
his, forever. The thought made her shiver. She didn't allow herself
to analyze why. But it didn't matter. Apparently, an eternity with
Willow wasn't his plan.

"You free me? I thought the whole point of the bond was that it was
forever?"

"Doesn't have to be. I can free you whenever I choose; you just can't
free yourself."

Willow understood. If Buffy bound herself to him, he would never let
her go. But binding himself to Willow would be different. The bond
would be driven by necessity, not desire. He'd hold her hostage,
making sure that she needed him, couldn't survive without him, to
guarantee that her friends would do all they could to keep their word
to him.

"Why do I have to bind myself to you? We'll take the chip out, you
have my word."

"I don't want your word, I want your bond. Your little friends will
be a sight more helpful disabling a chip if they know it's the only
way to free you from me."

"And as an added bonus, being around me means being around Buffy,
yes?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, before answering, calmly, "Yes."

Willow balanced the pros and cons in her head. Being. bound. wasn't
precisely a situation she wanted to be in, but it did sound like the
only way Spike would agree.

Willow sighed. She knew that Spike would not be shaken from his
terms. She stole a glance over to him, thankful to see that his back
was to her as he searched for a cigarette. She watched him for a
moment. Drunk, again. He hadn't been taking care of himself. His
clothes, his hair, his home, his everything was as much of a mess as
was conceivably possible. She followed his movements, watching him in
profile as he smoothly lit the cigarette and took a long pull,
nonchalantly. No matter how drunk he got, no matter how much of a
mess he made of things, no matter how low he let himself sink, there
was always a part of him that simply would not break. She sighed
again. He meant it when he said no negotiation. She figured she might
as well get it over with.

"So do we do this tonight?"

"What?" he answered, spinning around to face her. She almost laughed
at the look of unbridled shock on his face. Not even on the night
when he discovered he couldn't bite had she seen him taken so
thoroughly by surprise.

"The binding. I thought we could do it tonight. Get it over with.
Why, do you have plans?"

"Then your answer is yes?"

"My answer is yes. I accept your offer." She held her hand out to
shake his. He looked at her hand, then looked her back in the eye and
raised his eyebrow again.

"I-I-it's a h-h-human thing. You know, shake it on?" Willow
stammered, annoyed at herself for letting him fluster her so much
with just an eyebrow.

"We could always bite on it, if you like." he smirked. "It's a
vampire thing."

"I think I'll pass." Willow muttered to herself, then began gathering
her things. "I'd better go." she said. "I have to tell the gang what
we agreed on and then get all the ingredients for the ritual. I
should be back around 8:00. Does that work for you?"

Spike had settled himself back on his bed with his cigarette in one
hand and a fresh bottle in the other.

"Fine with ME, pet. I'LL be here."

Willow had been almost to the door, but she turned around, startled
at his tone of voice.

"Why don't you think I'll be here? I told you, I'll be back around
8:00."

"That's what you say now. But then you'll go back to your friends and
they'll tell you that you couldn't possibly bind yourself to a demon
and you'll nod and agree like a good little girl and that" he said,
opening the new bottle "will be the end of that." And he took a
sizable drink.

Willow walked back over to the bed, slowly. When she was standing
alongside Spike, she began speaking, very quietly, in a tone as
finely honed as a razor.

"You may be a hundred years older than me, Spike, but I've been
saving the world since I was fifteen and I allow no one to treat me
like a child. I gave you my word and I will keep it. And if I lose
every friend I have, then so be it. I WILL bind myself to you, you
WILL save the world, and I WILL remove your chip. It begins tonight.
I'll be here at 8:00." And with that, she stalked off to the door and
pulled it open. She stood in the doorway for a moment, and he saw her
outlined in the sunlight, as she turned back.

"Try to be sober."

Then the door slammed, and she was gone.

Spike took another drink and thought of what had just happened.

"I'll be damned." he said. "The little chit has spunk."

He took another drink. And then another. Then he remembered what she
had said about being sober for the ritual. She was right, if he was
drunk and said the wrong thing, it would screw everything up. With a
grunt of annoyance, he threw the bottle at the door, taking a moment
of satisfaction in the sound of the breaking glass as it shattered on
impact.

"I hate spunk." he growled, before rolling over, and going to sleep.

Section 9:

"Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Are you nuts?"

"Are you possessed?"

"Oooh, that'd be neat. ARE you possessed?"

"Xander, I'm not possessed. Sorry to disappoint you, Anya. Buffy, I'm
not nuts, and Giles, I'm in full command of my senses. This is sane,
sensible Willow talking. You have to hear me out, and this time, let
me finish! I'm not saying this is the best option, I'm saying it's
the only option. Can we all please sit back down and discuss this
now?"

Three mouths shut abruptly as Giles, Xander, and Buffy sat back down.
Anya and Tara had stayed seated. Once everyone was settled again,
Willow seated herself as well and began to explain.

"It's not a permanent thing. He doesn't trust us to take out the
chip. He's RIGHT not to trust us. We don't WANT to take out the chip.
If we did, we'd have figured out how to do it by now. Agreed?"

No response. Giles, Xander, and Buffy studiously avoided making eye
contact.

"Agreed?" Willow asked, a little louder. There were muttered grunts
of agreement.

"So this is a temporary thing, just until we find a way to get rid of
the chip. Then he frees me, I free him, and we never have to see him
again."

"Willow, when you described Spike's, ah, motivation for the bonding
with Buffy, it didn't sound like something you'd, well, wish to try
for yourself." Giles stated, as unobtrusively as he could. Giles knew
that Willow was annoyed and had no wish to rile her further, but he
did not understand how she could agree to such a thing.

"Giles, Spike's motivation for bonding Buffy and his motivation for
bonding me are two very different things. He doesn't want me to
suffer."

"Oh yeah, because he's such a nice guy!" Xander muttered.

Willow threw him a dirty look. "No, Xander, because he's SMART. He
wants that chip out, and he knows that I'm the one who can do it.
Let's face it, I'm the technology person in the group. If I'm
suffering, I can't be researching. Besides, he has no reason to want
to hurt me. I don't make fun of him and I stay out of his way. I'm
not important enough to him for him to want to hurt me. I don't even
think he knows my name!" Willow paused as she processed what she had
just said. It was true, she realized. She WASN'T sure if Spike knew
her name. She couldn't think of single time when he had called her
Willow. He always called her witch, or pet. She wondered, briefly,
what his voice would sound like saying her name. Then she dragged her
thoughts back to the topic at hand.

"I don't like the idea of letting Spike into our lives like this."
Buffy stated, stubbornly.

Willow took a deep breath and struggled to stay calm.

"Buffy, he's IN our lives. He's BEEN in our lives for MONTHS now. He
has saved the life of everyone in this room at least once, and we've
saved his. He's lived with us, in our homes, BONDING WITH OUR
FAMILIES in some cases, and watching us while we ate, slept,
researched, fought. everything. This isn't letting him in to our
lives, this is getting him out of them. After this, it's over. End of
Spike. AND, lest we forget, end of Glory! If we throw this out the
window then we're back at square one. Spike has made up his mind.
This is his final offer. And, I gave him my word."

Buffy sighed. Giles sighed. Xander sighed. Anya, with a confused look
on her face, tugged Xander's sleeve and whispered loudly, "Should I
sigh, too? Everyone else is."

"You're right." Giles said, quietly.

"Yeah." Buffy and Xander added, quietly as well.

"Good for you!" Anya stated brightly, trying to be part of the moment.

Tara could not believe her ears. She had been quietly fuming since
Willow had gone to Spike's. Everyone else had been in such a good
mood, so happy that the problem was almost solved, and no one had
even noticed that Tara was furious that Willow was going to Spike's
crypt, AGAIN. When Willow had returned and explained the ultimatum,
Tara had felt like screaming. No way in hell would she let Willow
agree to that! But she had kept her mouth shut. She was sure that
Buffy and Xander would talk Willow out of it. When she heard them
giving in, she realized that the moment had come. All her practicing
and planning came down to this. She finally had to stand up for
herself. She took a deep breath, and stood.

"No." she said. "I refuse to take any more of this."

Everyone turned to look at her with expressions of pure confusion. If
it hadn't been such an important moment, Tara would have been tempted
to giggle. Everyone seemed shocked that she actually possessed the
ability to speak. And without stuttering, no less!

"Tara? Tara, baby, what is it? What's wrong?" Willow's look wasn't
surprised, just worried. Tara felt her heart soften a little at the
concern in Willow's face. She knew that Willow loved her. She was
almost tempted to give in, sit back down, go with the flow, like
always, but she steeled herself against the impulse. Willow was
always trying to get her to stand up for herself. Well, this was her
chance. This time, she was going to stand up and say what she
thought. She knew that if she didn't do it now, she never would.

"I've tried, Willow." she said, ignoring the others and focusing
solely on the woman she loved. "The Goddess knows that I have tried,
but there is only so much that I can take. I won't let you do this."

"You won't LET me?" Willow asked, surprised at last.

"No, I won't. I let you talk me into patrolling and fighting vampires
that would kill me if they got the chance. I let you talk me into
researching every weekend, and never spending any time alone. I let
you talk me into hanging out with your friends, WHO DON'T LIKE ME"
she added, with a pointed glare around the room "when all I've wanted
to do for months now is pack our bags and get the both of us the hell
away from here. And now you're telling me that you want to bind
yourself to a demon and you expect me to just be FINE with that? No!
I WILL NOT let you do this!"

For a moment, they were all still and silent with shock. Then Willow
pulled herself together and walked over to where Tara was standing.
She raised a hand to gently cradle Tara's face and brushed her thumb
over Tara's cheekbone in soothing circles as she spoke.

"Tara, I'm so sorry. I know this is hard for you. I know this is
scary. I know I forced you into all of this. You get involved with
me, and all of the sudden you're forced into battling the powers of
darkness." She flashed Tara a rueful smile and pressed a quick kiss
to her forehead. "I know you're frustrated and sleep-deprived and
that your nerves are shot. We all feel the same way. But sweetheart,
we have the power to save the world. Don't you understand that I have
to do this? It will all be over soon, I swear it. But I need to do
this now. Please tell me you understand."

Tara stepped away from Willow, separating herself from her lover's
touch.

"No. I can't tell you that I understand, because I DON'T! You don't
need to do this! Buffy's the slayer, let her be bonded to the demon.
Or if she's too squeamish, then SHE can call the First. This isn't
our fight and I'm not going to stand for it any longer!"

"Tara, you don't mean that. Please. Tell me you don't mean that. You
know that if I don't do this, Buffy will die."

"Then that's her choice."

Once again, a shocked silence fell over the room. Tara had said all
she had to say. Willow was too shocked and broken hearted to speak,
right away. And everyone else in the room was watching in stunned
fascination. It never even occurred to any of them to speak. They
were the chorus in this Greek tragedy. They weren't needed while the
main characters dominated the stage.

"This is my choice, Tara. I choose to stay. I choose the ritual. I
choose to save the world. I can't hold you here. What's your choice?"

"If you stay and perform the ritual, then it's over for us. I'll
leave town."

"Then I guess this is goodbye." Willow stated, in a voice drained of
all emotion.

For a moment Tara simply stood there, unwilling to believe it was
over. Then she grabbed her sweater and her purse and headed for the
door. When she reached it, she turned to face Willow once again.

"I'm going back to the dorm to pack a bag and then I'm on the next
bus out of here. When I get settled, I'll let you know where to send
the rest of my stuff."

She waited a moment, expecting Willow to call her back. But Willow
had turned away and refused to look back. Facing away from Tara,
Willow spoke softly.

"Be careful. It will be dark soon."

Tara shook her head in disbelief. Then she stormed through the door
and slammed it behind her. Willow winced at the bang that it made,
but did not turn around. With quiet certainty, in a voice still
drained of emotion, she spoke again.

"I will never see her again."

Section 10:

No one knew what to say. Buffy looked at Giles. He was an adult; he
should know how to comfort someone. But he shook his head. He was
sure that anything he said would come out sounding pompous and
condescending. Next, Buffy looked to Xander. He had been Willow's
best friend for years. He should know the right way to handle this to
make her feel better. He shook his head as well. He was a boy, he
reasoned to himself. What did he know about what a girl needed to
hear? He raised his eyebrows at Buffy. She had lost her lover
recently. Besides, she was a girl. She should know what to do.
Chocolate, ice cream, movies with Brad Pitt: Buffy should know which
remedies would work. Willow was her best friend, too. But Buffy shook
her head as well. She hadn't been much of a friend to Willow lately.
Between Dawn being the Key and Riley leaving and her mother getting
sick, she had hardly been able to hold herself together, much less be
supportive of her friend. Besides, what Tara had said was true. She
hadn't liked the girl. None of them really had. The glances were
passed back and forth, each trying to convince the others to comfort
Willow, until the one person they did not consider came forward.

"Do you want me to give her syphilis? Or maybe some new kind of
fungus, never before discovered by science?"

Willow managed a small smile.

"It's a sweet offer Anya, but you forget, you're human now."

"Doesn't matter." Anya shrugged. "I still have connections in the
demon world. Say the word, and Tara will never know what hit her. Or
better still, she'll know exactly what hit her and there will be
nothing she can do about it."

Willow turned and pulled Anya into a hug. "Thank you" she murmured
into Anya's ear.

Anya was too surprised to react immediately, but after a moment, she
wrapped her arms around the little redhead. Really, it wasn't so
unnatural. In her thousand years on this earth, Anya had probably
spent the majority of her time comforting scorned women. "Just say
the word, Willow. Whatever you need." She pulled Willow's head down
on to her shoulder.

Willow placed her forehead against Anya's shoulder and closed her
eyes.

"It hurts." she whispered.

"I know." Anya sighed in her ear, while gently stroking her
hair. "It'll be alright."

Xander had tears in his eyes but a faint smile on his lips. He hated
seeing Willow in pain, but he was, once again, blown away by his
Anya. Every day she did something to remind him how lucky he was to
have her in his life. He stood quickly and wrapped his arms around
his two favorite girls, joining in the hug. "We're here for you,
Willster."

Buffy jumped up and joined the hug as well. "Love you, Wills." she
whispered.

Willow was surrounded by arms and hugs and loving support. Even
though Giles didn't join in the impromptu group hug, she knew that he
loved her and would support her as well. It wasn't his fault he was
so British.

"Tissues!" Buffy squeaked and pulled away to run over to her purse.
After a minute of rummaging around, she emerged triumphantly with a
pack of Kleenex. She distributed them, as everyone pulled out of the
hug and started laughing quietly and drying their eyes.

"Giles," Buffy asked, "what ice cream do you have in the house?"

"Ice cream?" he replied. "Ah, yes. Ice cream. Of course. Quite right.
I'll see to it immediately." he stated, before disappearing into the
kitchen.

"I'll have to take a rain check on that, Buffy." Willow stated, once
she was through drying her eyes. "It'll take me a while to get the
ingredients together for the ritual, and I promised Spike I'd be over
at 8:00."

"Willow, you aren't still planning on doing the ritual tonight, are
you?"

"Yeah, Wills, Buffy's right. You're upset. No one should have to deal
with Spike when they're already upset."

"The Orchesankian ritual has to be performed with the moon is at the
first or third quarter. That will happen next week. Spike has to
prepare half the ingredients himself, and it'll take a whole week to
get them all ready. We need Spike. If we wait, it'll be another three
weeks before the ritual can be performed. We don't have three weeks
to wait. Besides, putting it off won't do any good. Tara will still
be gone tomorrow, and Glory will still be here. I gave Spike my word
that we'd do this tonight, and I plan to keep it. Heaven knows what
new conditions he'll come up with if we give him any more time to
think this through."

"At least let me come with you. You shouldn't have to deal with him
alone."

"Buffy, we agreed that having you and Spike around each other should
happen as little as possible until this whole mess is over with."

"How about me?"

"Xan, you hate Spike. And he hates you. I don't need that kind of
animosity interfering with the ritual."

"I'll come, if you want. I don't like Spike, but I don't hate him."

"I appreciate it, Anya, but I really think I'm better doing this on
my own."

"Alright" Buffy conceded grudgingly. "But as soon as the ritual is
over, you're coming over to my house and we're having a girl's night,
agreed?"

"Agreed" Willow nodded.

"Want me to walk you to get your supplies?" Buffy offered, eager to
be of some help.

"Nah, you have a girl's night to set up for. By the time I get to
your house, I expect to find cookie dough, chocolate, ice cream, and
a copy of Say Anything ready to be watched. Understood?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You and that John Cusack obsession. What am I
going to do with you? Alright, alright, Say Anything it is. I'll go
right now to pick it up." Buffy gathered her stuff together and
headed for the door. "Coming, Anya?"

"Y-you want me to come with you?" Anya asked, momentarily stunned.

"Sure." Buffy shrugged. "Girl's night. You, me, Willow, Dawn, heck,
we could probably even talk my mom into joining us and making some
hot chocolate.

Anya turned to face Xander with a huge grin on her face.

"I can't come home with you tonight. There's a girl's night I have to
go to because I'm a girl and they want me there."

"Of course they do, baby." Xander said, giving her a quick hug and
pressing a kiss onto her forehead. "Have a good time and I'll see you
in the morning."

Anya grabbed her purse and headed out the door with Buffy. Xander and
Willow could hear them chattering as they left, deciding what movies
to pick at the video store and discussing the various therapeutic
benefits of watching Brad Pitt's ass as opposed to George Clooney's
when you were upset.

"All I could find is something entitled Phish Food" they heard Giles
announce as he returned from the kitchen "and while I don't know
exactly what that title implies, I do know that Buffy has enjoyed it
in the past, and I do hope it will prove accepta- Where did Anya and
Buffy go?" Giles asked as he fully entered the room.

"They went to set things up for a girl's night, where I will be
joining them, once I finish the ritual." Willow replied. "Giles, I
was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind if I helped myself to some of the
ingredients at the Magic Shop? I have the most of the ingredients at
the dorm, but I don't want to go there while Tara-"

"By all means, help yourself to anything you like." Giles quickly
interjected. "You know you're welcome to anything."

"Thanks, Giles." Willow replied, gathering her stuff and heading for
the door.

"Come on Wills, I'll walk you to the shop." Xander said, waiting for
her in the doorway.

"Willow!" Giles stopped her as she headed toward Xander. She turned
to face him. "Do be careful tonight."

Willow rushed back and gave Giles a quick hug, flustering him
completely. "Don't worry, Giles." she said. "I promise to be
careful." She walked to the door. "And I always keep my word."

Giles sighed as the door shut behind them. They were still such
children. Such brilliant, wonderful, astonishing children. Then he
seated himself quietly. With the spoon he had gotten for Willow, he
dug into the Phish Food. It had been a long day. He was quite certain
he deserved it.

Section 11:

Willow mentally ran over the ritual, for the fifteenth time in her
walk from the Magic Shop to Spike's crypt. Giles had given her his
copy that morning, when she had first asked him to explain the
ritual. It wasn't complicated, far from it. The ingredients were
fairly basic, and the incantations (thank the Goddess!) could be
recited in English. Technically speaking, she didn't need to be going
over it again. She could probably perform the ritual with her eyes
shut, maybe even in her sleep. But as long as she kept her mind on
phrases and ingredients, she couldn't think of Tara, or Glory, or the
bond she was about to initiate with an evil, blood-sucking vampire.
Better by far to run over the ritual again. For the sixteenth time.

Spike, meanwhile, was trying to convince himself that he wasn't
watching the clock, that he wasn't eagerly awaiting the return of the
redheaded witch. But really, when your only visitors are demons
wanted to collect gambling debts, whiny ex girl-friends, and, on a
good day, a slayer aching for an excuse to kill you. showing up
wearing little bits of nothing, trying to drive a man crazy. but that
wasn't the point. The point is, with only all of that to look forward
to, is it any wonder that you'd look forward to a visit from a smart,
spunky, very powerful witch? After all, daylight hours were long and
no one can sleep ALL the time. So was it really that surprising that
he'd enjoy a little distraction? Would it be so shocking that he'd be
waiting for her, listening for her, straining to hear a knock on the
door or. a heartbeat? And suddenly there is was. He could hear her
heartbeat, outside the crypt, smooth and steady.

So why wasn't she coming in?

Patience is a virtue that Spike never claimed to possess. After a
minute of listening to her heartbeat with no sign that she was any
closer to knocking on the door, he went out after her. He found her,
calmly seated on a tombstone, going through a bag of supplies,
muttering to herself. He could vaguely make out something about
measurements and ordering of ingredients.

"Hello, witch." he said, leaning in the doorway of the crypt.

She looked up and smiled at him. "Hello, Spike." Then she returned to
her bag of ingredients.

There was a long pause, as he waited for her to explain what she was
doing out there. She didn't. So, he tried again.

"Are we doing the ritual out here then?"

She didn't even look up this time. Simply answered no, and continued
with what she was doing.

Yet another long pause.

"Any ingredients out here you need?"

"Nope." she answered, still not looking up.

"Well then, what's the bleeding idea sitting out he-" His rant was
cut off by the sound of a watch alarm. Willow turned it off. And
stood.

"It's 8:00." she said. "May I come in?"

Spike found himself in the highly unusual position of being struck
speechless. Willow couldn't hold back her grin. "I guess that's a
yes" she murmured and moved past him through the door.

As she brushed against him, he caught a whiff of a different scent on
her, something more than her usual blend of vanilla, lavender,
innocence and magic. Something that smelled like. tears? That was a
surprise. When he had seen there, seated so calmly on the tombstone,
he had assumed that everything had gone well with her friends. After
all, those bloody Scoobies stuck together through thick and thin, as
he knew to his cost. It probably took some arguing on her part, but
he knew the group well enough to know that the witch could talk them
into anything. So why had she been crying? He looked over to her,
watching her as she made the circle in the dirt on the floor and lay
out all the necessary candles. She didn't look upset. But the scent
of tears had been unmistakable. And once he looked closely, he could
see the tension in her neck and shoulders. She was making a
concentrated effort to hold herself together. But from what? He
thought about asking, but couldn't think of any way that he could
phrase it without it sounding like he was. concerned, like he. cared.
So he said nothing. Finally she looked up.

"It's time."

He nodded and walked over to her, joining her in the circle she had
created.

"Do you have the ring?" she asked. Again, he nodded, pulling a ring
off of his finger and handing it to her. Like the spell required, the
ring was silver, with a black stone. Willow took it from him, with a
sigh. A part of her mind simply couldn't process that this was real,
that she was actually going to go through with it and bind herself to
a soulless demon. And that was the part of her mind that was starting
to panic, yelling at her to stop this nonsense and go. somewhere,
anywhere, away from here. She blocked it out, and began the ritual.

She called on the powers, quietly but calmly, laying out the
appropriate offerings and felt the familiar power run through her,
letting her know that she was ready. She placed the ring in a bowl
with all the necessary ingredients she had accumulated. Only two
ingredients remained. But first came the incantation.

She had the words written out in front of her. She could have read
them, keeping her eyes on the book. In fact, it was what she had
intended to do. But as she opened her mouth to speak, she looked up,
and looked straight into Spike's impossibly blue eyes. Her eyes
locked with his. His expression was unreadable, but something in it
calmed her, grounded her, focused her. Staring unblinkingly into his
eyes, she began to speak.

"With all that I have and with all that I am, I bind myself to you;
body and blood, mind and soul."

Spike couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. Funny, he'd never
noticed they were green before. Now, he felt like he was drowning in
green, unable to look away, unable to hear anything but the first
line of the ritual that she had recited. She was still speaking,
going precisely through the ritual, but the first line kept rolling
through his head. "With all that I have and with all that I am." and
he started to remember, "I bind myself to you." all the things he had
tried to forget.

"With all that I have and with all that I am, I bind myself to you."

Brown eyes and a girl named Cecily, and his voice saying, "I'm a bad
poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that... that you try to see
me-" and her reply, "I do see you. That's the problem." Then more
brown eyes and his beautiful Drusilla, and his voice saying "I did it
for you. You keep punishing me." And her voice, "I have to find my
pleasures, Spike. You taste like ashes." And finally, hazel eyes, the
slayer, and his voice, one last time saying "Just ... give me
something ... a crumb ... a barest smidgen ... tell me ... maybe,
someday, there's a chance." And then her reply, still echoing in his
ears. "The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious."

In his century and a half on earth he had allowed himself to love
three times. Three women, to whom he had offered everything he had,
everything he was, body and blood, mind and what shreds he had of a
soul. And he'd been rejected, and then rejected again. And then
rejected. Again. And in over a century, not once had he had a woman
offer herself to him. Until now. As he lost himself in those green
eyes, he seemed to hear her say the line again. "With all that I have
and with all that I am, I bind myself to you; body and blood, mind
and soul."

He was jerked out of his contemplation when Willow took his hand.
When his eyes left hers, he noticed the ceremonial knife in her hand,
and realized what she was about to do. The incantation was over; they
were on the final stages of the ritual.

She slashed his wrist, raising a thin line of blood. She turned it,
forcing several drops to fall into the cup along with the ring and
the potion. Then raising the bloody wrist to her lips, she
recited: "With free will and unconstrained soul, I take your blood
and acknowledge its authority." She focused on the task at hand and
did not notice how his eyes closed as her lips opened against his
wrist and he felt her tongue slide along the cut.

She released his wrist and turned to her own. Gritting her teeth, she
made a similar slash on her own wrist, forcing several drops into the
cup and reciting: "With free will and unconstrained soul, I give my
blood and affirm its compliance. What was mine now is yours." And
when she held her wrist out to him, even she could not fail to notice
his moan when her blood hit his lips. But she ignored it, ignoring as
well the rush of warmth that went through her as his tongue caressed
the wound.

When he released her wrist, she handed him the cup, and watched as he
drank half the contents. He then returned the cup to her. She drained
it, pulling the ring out of the empty cup when she was finished. The
silver setting had been tarnished when Spike had handed it to her,
but now it shone, and the black stone had turned into a sparkling
emerald. She took his hand in hers, saying, "I place my life and my
future in your hands" before sliding the ring onto his finger.

As soon as the ring slid on, a light burst from it. The rush that
went through them threw both Willow and Spike back. To Willow's
surprise, the rush felt familiar. She remembered it from the ritual
to restore Angel's soul. It's the rush you feel when a soul is bonded
to a demon.

She took a moment to ponder how bizarre her life was when the
sensation of bonding a soul to a demon felt familiar.

Then she returned to the point at hand. A soul had been bonded to a
demon. Her soul. To his demon. The ritual had worked.
------------

Section 12:

Everything was dark. Which made sense, she realized, when she
discovered her eyes were closed. Darkness, check. She could feel
something soft and silky underneath her. Sheets. Silk sheets. She
could tell she was lying on a bed. She wondered how that had
happened. The last thing she remembered, she was performing the
ritual with Spike and there had been a bright light and then.

"Damn." she said, opening her eyes. "I passed out again, didn't I?"

Her eyes scanned over the room until she spotted Spike. He was seated
at the foot of the bed, with his back propped up against a bedpost,
reading a book. She couldn't tell what it was. He looked up in
surprise at the sound of her voice, but quickly recovered his
nonchalant expression.

"That you did, pet." he answered, shutting his book. "How do you feel
now?"

She tried to sit up, but waves of dizziness knocked her right back
down. She groaned and closed her eyes again. "Never better." she
answered. "Top of the world."

He chuckled. You've got to admire a woman too weak to sit up who
still manages to crack jokes. Yes, this one most definitely had spunk.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the spell worked." she
said, after a few moments had passed. "Spells that fail never wipe me
out this much."

"Don't you feel it?" he murmured, and she was shocked to discover his
voice right next to her. While her eyes had been closed, he had slid
up alongside her, not touching her, but lying next to her, his lips
only inches from her ear.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to face him. He was lying on
his side, his head propped up by his hand, watching her with
unabashed curiosity. She paused a moment to ponder his question.

"Yes." she answered finally. "I do feel it." And she did. Somewhere,
deep inside, there was a part of her that was purring in peaceful
contentment, simply knowing that he was nearby. She could sense him,
not his thoughts or his feelings, but simply his presence, close and
oddly comforting. "Do you feel it, too?"

He shook his head. "I smell it." he answered. Noting her confused
look, he explained. "You smell like me now. Not completely, of
course. You still smell like you, but my scent is mixed in. Any demon
that got within fifty feet of you would know that you belong to me.
My claim is all over you."

She blushed as she processed this new information. She had never
thought of the bond in those terms. She had not considered how his.
claim on her would show itself. She just knew that it sounded right
when he said that she belonged to him. She wondered if it was the
bond that was making her feel this way. She told herself that it was
the bond's fault, that the bond was the reason that she felt so
pleased at the thought that she was his.

"I need to go." she muttered, sitting up and swinging her legs over
the side of the bed. Bad move. She would have fallen backwards, but
Spike slid behind her, holding her up against his chest.
Unconsciously, she relaxed against him.

"Your girlfriend will have to wait a bit longer." Spike said. "You're
in no shape to be going anywhere, yet." He noticed that she flinched
when he mentioned her girlfriend. That was. unusual. The little witch
had always seemed eager before to rush off with the girl. He,
himself, never understood why. The girl was pleasant enough, but
bland. He was sure her blood was as tasteless as she was. Not at all
like the firecracker that filled his arms at the moment. He stifled a
moan at the memory of her sweet, spicy, powerful blood from when he
tasted it during the ritual. The thought of her blood grew even more
tempting as he speculated on how the claim would affect its taste.
From how it had changed her scent, he guessed her blood would be
sweeter, darker, more mysterious, with a tang of danger to it. He
started to lean in, all his instincts driving him to nuzzle at her
neck, but he caught himself just in time. As he paused, his face
close to hers, he noticed once again the scent of her tears. She
wasn't crying yet, but she was close to it. He knew if she faced him,
he'd see tears swimming in those big, green eyes.

He felt her tense up as she tried to compose herself, and wasn't
surprised when she tried to pull away from his arms. But he tightened
his grip, refusing to let her go. "Easy, pet." he whispered in her
ear. "Keep this up and you'll pass out again." She stilled
immediately.

"I have to leave." she whispered again, and he could hear the tears
just under the surface.

"And I told you that your little witch would have to wait."

"Tara won't be waiting any more." she murmured, more to herself than
to him. Then, turning in his arms to look at him, she spoke again.

"Buffy's the one who's waiting for me. We're having a sleepover at
her house. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you?"

"Go ahead and try to leave." he replied, releasing her. "I guarantee
you won't get very far."

"Because you'll stop me?" she answered, annoyed at his smug tone, as
she rose to her feet.

"No." he answered, lying back against the headboard and watching in
amusement as she struggled to stay upright. "Because, right now, you
couldn't walk to the door without falling over, much less all the way
to the slayer."

He was right, she thought. Damn him. She'd just have to wait awhile
longer while she got her strength back. She sighed in resignation and
lay back down. It shouldn't be much longer till she pulled herself
together. And until then, she'd just have to lie there. On the bed.
Next to him. Feeling his eyes on every inch of her. Conversation! she
thought. If we're talking, I'll be less nervous. the silence that's making you uncomfortable, not the well-toned,
overwhelmingly seductive, undeniably gorgeous man lying only inches
from you> a little voice in her head mocked her. and tell yourself that.> Trying desperately to ignore the little
voice, she wracked her brain for topics of conversation.

What do guys like to talk about, she wondered. Talking about food
always worked with Xander. But to Spike, a good meal would probably
consist of her graduating class. No, she definitely couldn't talk to
Spike about food. Music? She always tried to talk about music with
Oz. But she really doubted she and Spike listened to the same stuff.
She tried to think back to conversations she had had with Spike in
the past. Hmm, there was the time he had kidnapped her and Xander to
perform a love spell, and they had talked about Drusilla breaking his
heart. Probably not a good memory to bring up. Then, in the dorm room
when he tried to eat her, they had talked about her own broken heart.
Yes, that was definitely a memory that she wanted to avoid. She knew
boys liked sports. Too bad she didn't know the first thing about
them. What else could she talk about?

"Are you worried?" she asked, at long last.

"Worried?" he asked, clearly puzzled. "Why would I be worried?"

"About the ritual." she explained. "You're going to be fighting a
god. Are you worried?"

He paused, clearly caught off guard by her question. "I really hadn't
thought about it." he finally replied. "I guess it never occurred to
me that anything would be able to kill me. It's been a very long time
since I was scared by the prospect of a fight. I've gotten into a lot
of stupid fights in my unlife, and I've survived them all. Just too
stubborn to die, Angelus used to say." Spike continued, with a slight
smile on his lips as he reminisced. "Those early years, he kept
waiting for something to kill me, waiting for my arrogance to trap
me, but it never did. Oh sure, I got us run out of town a few times,
but nothing was ever able to defeat me. And that was just me." he
said, turning his head to grin at Willow. "All those times, all those
fights I wasn't supposed to win, all the times I survived against the
odds, it was just me, too stubborn to die. This time, I'll be
channeling the original good. It never occurred to me that I could
lose."

She smiled back at him. "I can't imagine not being scared of a
fight." she admitted. "After all these years, after all the vamps and
demons and everything else that I've fought, I still get nervous each
time I patrol with Buffy."

"Then why do you do it?" he asked, softly.

"Because it needs to be done." she answered with a shrug. "When
Xander and I first started helping Buffy and Giles, back in high
school, they told us it wasn't safe. But we saw what was happening.
We couldn't ignore it. And we wanted to help."

"What was Buffy like back then?" he asked. He had turned over to lie
on his back. He had a dreamy expression on his face and his voice was
soft. Willow recognized the Buffy-dream-state. She'd tracked it in
Xander, Angel, and Riley. She smiled, gently, and started to talk.
She knew it wasn't a good idea to talk to Spike about Buffy. She knew
they were supposed to be discouraging his obsession. But no matter
what Buffy and Giles said about Spike being a soulless demon
incapable of love, she knew it wasn't true. She still remembered the
way it had felt when he cried on her shoulder about Dru. Spike may be
a soulless demon, but he was fully capable of love. And if he wanted
someone to talk to about Buffy, heaven knows she was used to that
job. She relaxed, curling up on her side, facing Spike, and started
to talk. Spike listened silently, never looking at her, drinking in
the stories about his beloved Buffy.


Section 13:

Willow got wrapped up in the stories she was telling and soon lost
track of time. She was an animated storyteller with an eye for
detail, using gestures and different voices for the characters. For
someone who babbled so much and got so nervous when she had to talk
about herself, she was surprisingly eloquent and expressive when
talking about someone else. Spike kept his face carefully neutral and
non-responsive as he lay on his back with his eyes still closed. He
made a concentrated effort not to respond, but in his mind's eye, he
could see every event as she detailed it. He nearly ruptured
something holding in his laughter when she gave her imitation of
Angel. She was midway through telling him about when Xander was
possessed by hyenas when Buffy came barging through the door.

"Okay, Spike, what have you done with her? We were expecting her
nearly two hours ag-" Buffy cut off abruptly as she saw Willow lying
on Spike's bed. That was. unexpected.

"Willow! Are you alright?" Buffy transitioned quickly from furious
and accusatory as she spoke to Spike to worried and concerned as she
switched her focus to Willow.

Spike winced at the sound of her voice. Sure, he loved the girl, but
her voice was always a bit too loud and shrill for his taste. Gave
him a bloody headache, it did. She never seemed to remember vamp
super hearing. Or maybe she did remember and thought to increase the
torture when she got in a mood to yell at him.

And now her screaming was even more of a shock to his system, in
contrast to the witch's soft, gentle voice. He had never guessed she
was such a good storyteller. She'd had him hanging on every softly
spoken word. Not that he'd shown any interest, of course. It wouldn't
do to have the little witch know that he liked to hear her stories,
that he was enjoying her company. His image as the big bad was in
enough tatters as it was. He couldn't let it get around that he was
actually enjoying the time he spent with a human.

But it certainly wouldn't hurt his image if he got pissed off at the
slayer for barging into his crypt like that. Besides, she had
interrupted at the most exciting part of the story! Xapper had been
attacking Buffy while the other idiots ate the principal. Literally,
ATE the principal. The slayer seemed to have a special gift for
walking in at inconvenient points when someone was telling a story.
He wanted to hear what happened, damn it. And. and he didn't want her
to go. He knew the bond only went one way. He didn't need her to
stay. But he wanted it.

Willow looked at her watch and blushed. She had had no idea that so
much time had passed. She hadn't meant to get so carried away talking
to Spike. He'd been listening so quietly.
she thought. get rid of me for ages.>

"I-I'm fine, Buffy. I was just a little worn out after the spell" she
flashed a look over at Spike, silently praying that he wouldn't
mention that she had passed out. Buffy always freaked out when a
spell made Willow faint. ".and I was resting until I felt strong
enough to come to your house. It isn't Spike's fault."

Buffy immediately rushed to Willow's side. Willow tried to keep her
face averted, but Buffy turned it to the light. "You've been crying
again." she said softly, running a thumb gently over the faint traces
of tear tracks on Willow's face. "I knew this was a bad idea. I
should have never agreed to let you do this tonight. It could have
waited."

"No, Buffy." Willow interjected quickly. She didn't want to discuss
Tara while Spike was sitting there. She was afraid she'd start to cry
again. "I'm glad it's done with."

Spike thought, as he scented the beginnings of
tears rising again in the witch's eyes. Two minutes earlier she had
been fully engrossed in talking to him and had completely forgotten
whatever it was that kept making her cry. But as soon as the slayer
walked in, she simply had to go and reopen the wounds. make a new word for tactless just for her.> Spike grumbled to himself.

"Do you think you can walk?" she asked, helping Willow to her feet.

"Bloody hell, slayer, can't you tell the girl's about to fall down?"
Spike was sick of the slayer barging in and knocking everything
around. Chaos demons didn't make so much of a mess! Besides, he was
right. The witch was still very pale and more than a little shaky on
her feet.

"That'll change as soon as I get her away from you." Buffy hissed.

"Yeah, she'll be worse." Spike answered, stepping forward and
stalking towards Buffy.

"Nothing could be worse than being around you." Buffy snapped in
reply, letting go of Willow's arm and turning to face Spike. She was
oblivious to the fact that Willow nearly fell down without her
support. Willow managed to seat herself on the bed just before
falling to the floor.

"And why is it you feel the need to follow me around all the time to
tell me how much you hate being around me? Face it, slayer. You seek
me out."

"Seek you out? You're the stalker here!"

"Look where we are, pet. Did I stalk you all the way into my own
home? You're the one who showed up here."

"I had to take care of Willow!" Buffy screamed in reply, gesturing to
Willow without turning around to look at her. "I had to come to get
her the hell away from you!"

"She's bonded to me, slayer. Don't forget that. She'll only feel
complete when she's near me. Until I end this bond, the only one who
can make her happy or relaxed or comfortable or complete is ME." With
each word, he took a step towards her. And with each step he took,
she backed away. It had been so long since she had seen Spike as a
threat, she had forgotten how very good he was at being
intimidating. "I may be `beneath' you, slayer, but I'm all over her."
He now had her backed against the wall, one hand on either side of
her face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'm in her blood
now." She tried to look away but there was nowhere to turn ".and
there's nothing you can do about it."

He leaned closer, almost touching her. He felt like he was drowning.
It was the way he always felt when he was around her. The demon
inside him was roaring for him to kiss her or break her neck and his
body ached for her touch while the man inside him, the little piece
of him that remembered the shy, vulnerable, decent man he used to be,
wanted to cry. Cry for her to love him, cry because he knew she never
would, cry for what he had become, cry for the hopelessness of the
whole mess. Standing near her was like standing in the path of a
tornado, waiting for destruction. And yes, there was a part of him
that wanted to be destroyed.

Suddenly and completely unexpectedly, he felt a soft, warm hand on
his shoulder, and heard a soft, warm voice say his name.

"Spike."

He turned to see the witch standing directly behind him. He shifted
to face her, turning his back to the slayer who quickly pulled away
from the wall and from him.

In a perfectly calm, absolutely neutral voice, Willow continued,
never breaking eye contact with him.

"I think I should be going now, Spike. It's getting late, my friends
will be worried. Besides, I'm feeling better now. I think I just
stood up too quickly. I was lying still for too long."

And suddenly the tornado was gone and the skies had cleared. It was
as if the scene with the slayer had not taken place. All the
animosity and tension that had filled the room only moments before
mysteriously vanished. His demon calmed as if by magic and his whole
body relaxed. Willow watched the tension drain out of him and
breathed a sigh of relief. Putting him and Buffy together was like
adding a lit match to gasoline. She noticed, somewhat wistfully, that
the passion that filled him when he was near the slayer disappeared
when he spoke to her.

"You don't have to go yet, if you don't want to." he answered, and an
impartial listener would have been shocked to hear the difference in
his voice. All the animosity was gone. His tone wasn't particularly
gentle or kind, but it had lost all the edge of harsh bitterness it
had held when he spoke to the slayer. Sadly, there were no impartial
listeners to notice. "You can stay and rest until you're back to
yourself."

"I really think I'm okay." Willow answered. "It's time for me to go."

She turned to gather her stuff, but turned back to look at him
again. "By the way, thank you, Spike."

He looked shocked. He couldn't remember the last time someone had
thanked him for something. It simply didn't come up terribly often in
his "line of work."

"For what, pet?"

"For taking care of me." she said simply, with a smile. "And for
saving the world."

"I haven't saved it yet, you know."

"I know." Willow answered, still smiling. "But you will." She smiled
again and then turned to gather her stuff. As she loaded it all in
her bag, she spoke again.

"I'll be by tomorrow. I need to talk to you about the ritual and then
we can start prepping the ingredients. How does 2:00 sound to you?"

"It's a date." he answered, recovering his aplomb and dazzling her
with his trademark smirk. Buffy rolled her eyes but, surprisingly
enough, Spike didn't notice. He was looking at Willow, who was
smiling at him again.

"See you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Spike."

"Goodnight, witch." he answered, just before the door shut behind
them. He was tempted to follow them. He could bait the slayer some
more, that was always fun. And he could spend some more time with the
increasingly intriguing little redhead. On second thought, he
decided, as a wicked grin crossed his face, he'd wait. They were
having a slumber party. He knew there would be plenty of "girl talk"
later on. If he followed them, they'd know he was there and they'd
keep their mouths shut. But if he bided his time and snuck over
later, he'd hear them in full confessional mode. That would be much
more interesting. For now, he could wait.

He lay back on his bed with a sigh. He looked at the ring on his
finger, the ring that bound her to him. He stared into the sparkling
emerald, watching the light shine off of its facets. he
thought. Then he folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes
again, picturing scenes from the stories he had just heard, playing
over in his mind the witch's voice as she told them.

Meanwhile.

"Horrible, disgusting, creepy vampire!"

"Buffy!"

"Well, it's true. You just ended a relationship, WITH A GIRL, and
he's hitting on you."

"Buffy, he was NOT hitting on me. He just gets his kicks out of
making me blush. You know that. Besides, I swear, he was a perfect
gentleman all evening" Willow mentally added.
Spike had been almost considerate, taking care of her when she
fainted, and listening patiently while she babbled on about sophomore
year. He hadn't seemed scary or patronizing or mocking at all. She
had felt surprisingly comfortable with him. It had been. nice. She
hadn't felt that relaxed in a long time.

But then Buffy had walked in she mentally
corrected herself, and the mood had been broken. Spike and Buffy
always seemed to bring out the worst in each other. Willow knew that
Buffy wasn't mad that Spike had hit on Willow (not that Willow would
admit that he had!); no, the slayer was mad that Spike had
successfully managed to bait her. Spike always had an uncanny knack
for getting under her skin. But Buffy hated to admit it, so she
vented by blaming Spike for hitting on her broken-hearted friend.
Willow thought. when Buffy was around.>

Buffy snorted. It was not the most attractive sound she could have
made, but it very clearly expressed her feelings regarding Spike's
ability to be a gentleman.

"He doesn't know what the word `gentleman' means. When did
this `gentlemanly' behavior take place? Before, during, or after he
forced you to bind yourself to him?"

"He didn't force me, I agreed voluntarily. He's going to be saving
the world next week. For the second time! I think maybe we should cut
him a little slack. Besides, whether he can define it or not, he WAS
a perfect gentleman to me tonight. Anyway, he doesn't know that Tara
and I split up." Willow's voice wavered a little when she said Tara's
name. Buffy was instantly apologetic for bringing up painful
thoughts.

Willow hid a little smile. Oh, it did hurt to say Tara's name, but
that's not why her voice wavered. Bringing the topic back to her
heartache got Buffy off of her anti-Spike lecture. Willow didn't stop
to analyze why she hated it so much when Buffy picked on Spike. If
she thought about it, she'd probably decide that it bothered her
because Spike couldn't defend himself, or because his actions
deserved a little more gratitude than they had been given. Those
were, after all, logical and sensible reasons. And maybe those really
were her reasons. But she didn't stop to analyze. They had reached
the slayer's house, and she knew that inside she'd find chocolate and
cookie dough and movies with John Cusack. And at the moment, that was
what mattered most.
----------------

Section 14:

Dawn Summers was a fourteen year old girl. It wasn’t her fault. Blame the monks. They could have made her twenty-six and gorgeous. After all, they were making her from scratch, why not go all out? But no, they made her into a fourteen year old girl. So as a result, she was surrounded by people who treated her as a child. And she was sick of it.

No one would tell her what was going on. Everyone was being all twitchy and secretive. She had been forced to find things out for herself. She found out something was wrong in the first place by eavesdropping. She found out about being the Key by breaking into the Magic Box. She found out what that meant by visiting the mental ward of the hospital. The Key is the link. The link must be severed. Such is the will of God. Not exactly something a fourteen year old should have to deal with. They should have made her twenty-six and gorgeous. That would have been cool.

Tara didn’t treat her like a child. But now Tara was gone. She had stopped by the house on her way out of town to say goodbye to Joyce and Dawn. She didn’t say much, but that was nothing new. She just said that she had to leave and she wished them luck. She asked Dawn to look out for Willow for her. And then she was gone.

Spike didn’t treat her like a child. She thought about going to Spike’s crypt and asking him what was going on. He always told her the truth. But then Buffy and Anya came in and Dawn learned (by eavesdropping, of course. How else was she to find out anything?) that Willow was with Spike and that they were doing some kind of spell. She couldn’t figure out exactly what kind of spell it was, except that Buffy thought it was a bad idea. And she was worried. And if Buffy was worried, Dawn figured that meant she, herself, should be entering panic mode.

Dawn didn’t know what she would do if something happened to Willow. Willow was the one who took care of her. Oh, sure, Buffy took care of her in the whole anyone-who-lays-a-finger-on-my-sister-will-be-in-a-whole-new-world-of-pain kind of way, but Willow was the one who took care of her as a person. She listened to Dawn, REALLY listened. Dawn knew she could tell Willow anything. When they had first moved to Sunnydale and Buffy and Willow had become friends, Dawn had immediately latched on to the shy redhead. After all, she always thought that she and Willow had more in common with each other than either of them had with Buffy. She used to pretend that it was Willow who was her sister and that Buffy was just her sister’s annoying best friend. And though she knew that none of those memories were true, that the monks had made them all up, she still remembered how great it felt to run to Willow with her problems and have Willow always know how to make things right. And now that she was making her own memories, she knew it was true that Willow was always there for her.

Buffy had started to pace. Whatever it was Willow was doing with Spike, she should have finished already. Dawn could tell that Buffy was getting more and more nervous with every moment that passed. Finally, Buffy couldn’t take it anymore and she bolted out the door. Dawn knew she was on her way to go kick down Spike’s door. Poor Spike. He must have to replace his door every week at the rate that Buffy kept kicking it in.

Dawn was tempted to start pacing herself. Willow was out there, possibly hurt. Spike and Buffy were going to get into another one of their fights (they always did in these situations). Tara was gone. And now she was alone in the house (her mom had gone to the store to buy more marshmallows) with Anya. Yes, this was decidedly a bad day. Pacing was starting to sound like a good idea. If she was going to be stressed and anxious, she might as well get some exercise out of it. She stood up and moved to the end of the room. If you’re going to pace, it’s best to make sure you have plenty of room to do it in. Otherwise, you fall down. She was right about to begin, when she was interrupted by a voice.

"Please don’t pace."

Dawn turned. Anya was sprawled out on the couch with a magazine in her lap, but she was looking at Dawn.

"What?"

"I said please don’t pace. Buffy was doing it earlier. It was making me dizzy."

"What makes you think I was going to pace?"

"You had that look."

Dawn sighed and sat back in her chair. "I’m just worried."

A confused look passed over Anya’s face. "Why?" she asked.

Dawn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It’s what humans do when the people they care about might be in trouble. They worry."

Anya DID roll her eyes at that. "Yeah, I know about that." she said. "Believe me, worry is definitely a concept that I understand. But why are you worried about Willow? She can take care of herself." She looked genuinely curious, as if Dawn might actually have a reason to give for why people worry when they shouldn’t.

"I know she can." Dawn answered. "It’s just that…" Her voice trailed off.

"It’s just that what?" Anya pressed.

"It’s just that I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Willow." Dawn concluded quietly. "What is this spell? Is… is it dangerous?"

Anya sighed. "Are they going to get mad at me for telling you? They get mad at me for talking all the time. There are all these rules: things that I can’t say public, things I can’t say to strangers, things I can’t talk about in front of Xander’s friends, things that I can’t say when you’re around… I get confused. I don’t know if telling you breaks the rules. Maybe I should call Xander and ask?"

Dawn perked up. Finally, someone was going to give her some answers. She got up from her chair and went to sit next to Anya on the couch. She looked to Anya with a hopeful expression on her face, and chose her words very carefully.

"Well, you can call Xander and ask him if you want, but I know he’d say it’s alright. Besides, it’s not like I’m not going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner."

Dawn held her breath as she waited for Anya’s reaction. Anya seemed to be weighing her options. For a moment, Dawn was afraid she was going to say no, and then Dawn would be right back where she started, but finally, Anya nodded. Dawn exhaled in relief.

"Okay." Dawn said. "Tell me what happened today."

Section 15:

Joyce returned, marshmallows in hand, right before Anya began, so she
heard the story as well. Both Joyce and Dawn were amazed at what they
heard. Sure, they were accustomed to dealing with the demon of the
week and the apocalypse of the season, but this was something more.
Buffy had been ready to die, again, to protect her sister. Willow was
risking not just her life, but also her freedom and her happiness to
save their family. Both Dawn and Joyce had tears in their eyes before
the story was done.

Anya's explanation was blunt and to the point, as always. Buffy's
argument with Spike took longer than expected, as always. As a
result, Anya had just finished her story when she and Dawn heard the
key in the door, signaling that Buffy and Willow had arrived.

There was a flash of light brown hair and the next thing they knew,
Willow had a shaking, sobbing fourteen year old girl wrapped around
her waist. Buffy immediately started questioning Anya, asking what
had she done to upset Dawn, but Willow hushed her. She knew what was
wrong. Dawn had always been exceptionally good at finding out things
she wasn't supposed to know. It didn't take a genius to figure out
that Anya had told her what had happened. And she had known that Dawn
would worry about her. Dawn always worried about her. So Willow knew
better than to ask any questions. She simply wrapped her arms around
Dawn in return and gently rocked her back and forth.

"It's okay, Dawnie. I'm fine."

Dawn pulled away enough to look up at Willow's face. Willow was an
awful liar; Dawn knew she'd be able to see the truth. She sighed with
relief at what she saw, and pulled closer to hug her again.

"I was s-so w-w-worried." she managed to say.

"No need to worry any more." Willow answered, smiling down at her.
She brushed Dawn's hair out of her eyes and wiped away the
tears. "We're going to be fine. All of us. Now why don't you go and
wash your face, and then the girl's night can begin! No more waiting,
I need my chocolate!"

Dawn giggled and gave Willow one last quick hug before running off to
the bathroom.

Joyce walked over, wiping away her tears and hugged Willow and Buffy,
together.

"I'm so proud of you girls." she whispered before pulling away. "I'll
go start the hot chocolate."

"Manicures!" Dawn stated from the doorway as she re-entered the
room. "We need to start with manicures. Willow, I'll paint your
nails."

"Nah, you have to give me a pedicure." Willow answered. "You're the
only one who can do it without tickling me. Anya, would you mind
giving me a manicure?"

Anya brightened. She had remained quietly seated during the scene
with Buffy, Willow, Joyce and Dawn, feeling left out, as usual. They
were like a family. A family that she wasn't part of. Not
surprisingly, Willow had noticed. After all, she knew what it was
like to be on the outside looking in.

"But first," Willow announced, "we must put in `Say Anything.' Only
then can the girl's night officially begin."

Dawn and Buffy groaned simultaneously.

"Willow, how many times have you seen that movie?" Buffy asked.

"Not enough!" Willow answered. "I can never see it enough."

"What's `Say Anything' about anyway?" Anya asked.

Willow gasped in mock horror. "You've never seen `Say Anything'? Oh,
you poor girl. Well, that will change immediately. Buffy, put it in
right now!"

Buffy laughed and stuck in the videotape. As the previews rolled,
Willow explained the premise of the movie to Anya.

"You'll love it." Willow assured Anya. "And if you don't, lie. I
refuse to believe that anyone could not love this movie."

"We'll see." Anya answered, smiling. "Now, what color do you want for
your manicure?"

One hundred minutes later..

Willow watched the closing credits run. Her fingernails were now
gold, and her toenails were now silver and her stomach was now
crammed full of hot chocolate, chocolate ice cream, bars of
chocolate, chocolate chip cookie dough, chocolate chip cookies, and
popcorn. In short, she was content.

"Well?" she asked Anya. "What did you think?"

"If guys like that honestly existed, I'd have been out of work
centuries ago." Anya answered. "But now I understand why you're in
love with John Cusack."

"Exactly!" Willow answered, grinning at Anya. She sighed and
stretched. "What was I thinking dating a girl when John Cusack is
still single?"

Dawn snorted. "Yeah, next time he comes to Sunnydale, the two of you
will meet and fall desperately in love."

"Betcha I could break into some computer files and find out his
address and phone number." Willow answered, absentmindedly, wondering
if she really would be sick if she ate another cookie. "Then I could
go to him."

"Would you do it if I dared you to?" Dawn answered, with a wicked
grin on her face.

"Oh! Oh! Truth or dare!" Buffy squealed and started bouncing in
place. "We have to play truth or dare, it's a girl's night tradition!"

Willow, Anya, and Dawn groaned in response.

"Buffy, if you dared me to get up and walk across the room, I don't
think I could do it." Willow replied.

"If we played according to the original version, there would only be
one dare." Anya stated.

"Original version?" Dawn asked.

"Sure." Anya answered. "We come up with a dare for each person before
the game starts. Something they'd never do in a million years. Then
we start asking the questions. Easy at first, then harder and harder.
Finally, we get each person to the point where they'd rather do the
dare than answer the question. Everyone does the dare and the game is
over."

The others looked back and forth at each other with raised eyebrows,
considering this option.

"I'm in." Buffy said.

"Me, too." Dawn added.

"Alright, why not?" Willow replied.

"Okay then, now we need to come up with the dares."

"Willow, your dare is to find John Cusack's phone number, call him
and tell him you love him." Dawn said.

Willow blushed furiously, but nodded her agreement. After all, she
couldn't imagine any question she wouldn't rather answer to avoid
having to do that.

"Dawn, you have to do the laundry for the whole house for a month."

"A month? Can't you make it a week?"

"Nope." Buffy answered. "A month. And if you ruin any of my clothes,
you have to replace them."

"Then you have to be Spike's slave for a day." Dawn retorted, and
watched with pleasure as all the color drained out of Buffy's face.

"H-h-his slave? For a whole day? I couldn't."

"That's the point." Dawn said. "It's supposed to be something you'd
never do in a million years. Come on, Buffy. He can't hurt you,
where's the harm?"

"No." Buffy said. "Find something else."

"A kiss." Willow said. "Kiss Spike, instead." Buffy shot her a look
of death. "It's not like you haven't done it before! One kiss, and
it's over with. You can punch him afterwards, if it makes you feel
better."

"But the kiss has to last at least ten seconds." Dawn threw in. "With
tongue."

The look of death was passed on to Dawn. "Fine." she said.

"Anya, you have to go to the pet shop and pet a rabbit." Buffy
decided.

Anya shivered at the idea, but nodded. The advantage of being blunt
and not understanding about discretion: there were no questions she
wouldn't answer.

Standing outside the house, Spike grinned. From his vantage point
near the living room window, he could hear every word that was said.
It appeared his timing had been impeccable. He had shown up fifteen
minutes earlier, in time to see all the girls gushing over the end of
the movie. Now, they were on to the juicy stuff. Not only would he
get all the dirt on all four of them, but also Buffy would be kissing
him the very next day. For ten seconds. With tongue. Unlife was good.
His grin faded at the next words that were spoken.

"Okay, Willow. You're the reason we're here, so we get to attack you
first. Question one: are you okay with Tara leaving?"

Bloody hell, that's why the chit had been crying. Her little witch-
friend had left. Suddenly, everything fell into place. Her comment
that her witch wouldn't be waiting for her; the tears in her eyes
when the girl had been mentioned; the concern that the slayer showed
about whether or not she was alright. It wasn't the ritual that
worried her; it was the girl's broken heart. And remembering how the
witch had acted, he had no doubt that her heart was well and truly
broken.

He wondered what had caused it. As far as he could tell, the two of
them never fought. The other witch was too damn quiet to fight; it
would be like trying to start an argument with a limp dishrag. He
couldn't picture her as the type to cheat, either. Same reason. Not
enough gumption to go after someone. His witch, on the other hand,
he
reminded himself, (conveniently forgetting that he had always thought
of the blonde as the other witch, and the redhead as "his" witch) she
had fire enough in her to do anything. A smile drifted over his face
as he remembered the bottle-in-the-face incident of a few years back.
But she wasn't the type to cheat either. She was more the true-blue
till-death-do-us-part kind of girl. She was the type to stay. Too bad
her lovers all turned out to be the type to leave. No wonder she and
the slayer got along so well. Not that the slayer was overwhelmingly
loyal to her lovers (, he
thought), but she did know what it felt like to be dumped. He was
interrupted in his thoughts by his witch's quiet response.

"Am I okay? No. I will be, eventually, but I'm not there yet. I know
I made the right decision, but it still hurts. I still love her."

"Should we be expecting any `will-be-done' spells? Because if so, I'm
totally taping your mouth shut." Buffy teased.

Willow laughed, and Spike wondered if the others could tell that it
was forced. He knew she hated to be reminded of that fiasco. Hell,
he'd brought it up himself several times for just that reason. But
you'd think her friends would be a little more considerate. He
shrugged. Apparently not.

"No, no spells this time. I'm handling my grieving the old fashioned
way. Pass the cookies!" They all laughed at that. "But Buffy, if my
memory serves, last time we were going to have a girl's night to
celebrate my broken heart, you promised me we'd watch `Steel
Magnolias' and you'd tell me that at least I don't have diabetes. Why
don't we do that?"

"No, Wills, it's truth time. Come on, you agreed. You answered the
question, so it's your turn to ask one." Dawn replied. There were
some questions she had been dying to ask all the girls, and she
wasn't about to be cheated out of her chance to find out the truth
from the horse's mouth, for a change.

Spike settled in comfortably for the long haul. Buffy ate another
cookie. Anya examined her recently painted nails. Dawn bounced in her
seat, eager to continue. Willow sighed. It was going to be a very
long night.
-----------------

Section 16:

Spike sat with his back against the wall of the house, and lit up
another cigarette as he thought about the girls in the house who were
now fast asleep. The game had continued for over two hours, with a
break in the middle when the girls had decided to make fudge. He had
caught every word and nearly ruptured something he had laughed so
hard. He had learned far more than he ever wanted to know about the
sexual life of the moron and the demon and he now knew precisely how
much the little Niblet liked him. It was, in fact, when the demon had
asked her to describe her fantasies about him that she had stopped
answering questions. She would be doing laundry for a month.

On the plus side, he had learned exactly what the slayer enjoyed in a
lover; information that he carefully filed away. He had also learned
that she wasn't precisely as immune to him as she liked to pretend.
She would be kissing him for ten second the next time she saw him.
Niblet had asked what she enjoyed most from the day of the will-be-
done spell. The slayer had blushed scarlet and refused to answer.

The demon, it turned out, was to be spared the experience of petting
a rabbit. They had been unable to find any question that she wasn't
willing to answer. That had been expected. But they kept asking her
questions, not in hopes of tripping her up, but to find out more
about her. They realized that in all the time she had been involved
with Xander, in all the time she had been a part of the Scooby gang,
they had never bothered to really find out anything about her. If
they had ignored the chance before, they had certainly seized it that
night. They asked her about her life before vengeance, about how she
enjoyed her new life after vengeance, and yes, they even asked a few
questions about things she had done as a vengeance demon. And for the
first time, they started to see her not just as Xander's girlfriend,
or the ex-demon, or the blunt and literal minded member of the gang,
but as a person.

And the witch. the witch was a whole different story. He grinned as
he remembered how she had played her friends. She answered their
questions, but she always managed to do it in such a way as to hold
back information. No matter how they phrased the question, she
replied to it in such a way as to keep something unsaid. She told
them whatever they wanted to know about concrete subjects. Any action
she had ever performed was open to dissection as she clearly
recounted the what, when, where, why, and how. But her dream world,
she kept to herself. Her fantasies and the objects of her fantasies
remained unnamed. She answered every question, but she kept her
secrets safe.

He grinned as he remembered how she had manipulated her friends. It
was gracefully done; like some kind of dance. Spike sighed in pure
appreciation. He wasn't used to being around intelligent women.
Female vampires are turned based on their beauty, not their brains.
Exhibit one: Harmony. The girl was pretty enough and a decent fuck,
but he'd rather bathe in holy water than have a conversation with
her. Dru had been smart enough, maybe, but it was kind of hard to
tell with all her blathering about stars and dolls and whatnot. Darla
had been cunning, but not all that bright. She had a one-track mind.
She never weighed the consequences, or figured out different angles
of approach. With her, the shortest distance between two points was
always a straight line. Buffy was the same way. The witch, despite
that act of sweet innocence, had a devious mind. His thoughts were
interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. It caught him off-
guard. He had thought they were all asleep. He picked up on the
scent. It was the witch. She had seated herself on the back porch.

"You might as well come and keep me company." she whispered. "I
brought you hot chocolate."

Was she talking to him?

"Oh, come on, Spike. I know you're there. Come out, before your hot
chocolate gets cold."

Spike pinched out his cigarette and stood, walking over to where she
sat. She smiled at him and wordlessly handed him the mug of hot
chocolate. Extra marshmallows; just the way he liked it. She motioned
for him to sit next to her. He did. They sat in silence for a moment,
both sipping their mugs of hot chocolate.

"How long have you known I was here?" he finally asked.

"I felt you walk up at the end of `Say Anything,' when Diane goes to
visit Lloyd and begs him to take her back. God, I love that part. Had
you seen the movie before?"

"No." he answered, still in shock over her reply. She had felt him
from the moment he arrived. Why hadn't she said anything?

"You should rent it. Great movie."

"How did you."

"Know?"

"Yeah."

"Bond."

"Right." He cursed himself silently. He had thought the bond was too
new for her to read it yet. Most people took a day or two before they
understood what the bond was doing well enough to be able to
interpret it. Once again, he had underestimated her. He sipped the
hot chocolate again.

"This is good."

"Thanks."

"Tastes different."

"I add cinnamon."

"Oh."

Long pause.

"Why didn't you tell her?"

Willow shrugged. "I picked up on you through the bond. If Buffy had
been paying attention, she'd have picked up on you through her slayer
sense. It's not my fault she wasn't paying attention."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She grinned. "Ah, you noticed that?"

"Yes."

"Most people don't."

"Yeah, I heard."

Another pause.

"You still didn't answer the question."

"No, I guess I didn't."

"Are you going to?"

Willow sighed. For a moment, he thought she really wasn't going to
answer. But then she spoke again. "Buffy didn't need slayer sense to
know you were out there. You have a history of watching her through
windows."

"How did you know."

"If you don't want people to know you've been around, take your
cigarette buts with you when you leave."

If it were possible, he would have blushed. Since it wasn't possible,
he merely looked uncomfortable.

"What are you saying?"

"After the argument back at the crypt, she should have known you'd
show up tonight. With or without slayer sense, she should have been
on guard, keeping on eye on the windows. But she wasn't."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that there's a part of her that knew you were here and
didn't want you to leave. If I had mentioned to her that you were
here, I'd have forced her to get rid of you. I left the choice up to
her. She chose to leave you here." Willow shrugged. "If she wanted
you to hear her secrets, it makes no difference to me. And I don't
think the others would mind too much. Anya certainly won't care that
you overheard. Dawnie might be a little embarrassed if she finds out
that you were listening, but she'll get over it. Besides, she stopped
before she said anything too bad."

"What about you?"

"I knew you were there."

"That's right, you did. Will you answer a question for me?"

"Are we playing truth or dare?" she answered, smiling at him again.

"Would you like to?" he answered with a grin of his own.

"Doesn't matter." she answered with a shrug. "Ask away, but I don't
promise I'll answer."

"Fair enough." he replied. "Here's something I'm curious about.
You've always been scared of me, even when I got chipped. When you
first came to visit me this morning, you were still scared of me. But
now you're not. First question, why aren't you scared of me anymore?"

A slow smile crossed her face. "Lots of reasons, really. First of
all, I know you can't bite me, but that doesn't mean you don't have
friends who can. When I came over this morning, I didn't know if I'd
find you alone." Her fingers unconsciously rubbed against a spot on
her neck. When her fingers moved, he saw the very faint scars from
the beginning of a bite. A memory flashed back to him of Harmony
complaining while he tried to ignore her. Something about how she had
started to bite the witch and had gotten stopped.

He reached out and gently ran his fingers over the scar. "Harmony?"
he asked. She shivered slightly from the feel of his cool fingers
against her warm neck, but didn't pull away. She nodded.

"So that was my first reason. Second reason: I was coming to ask a
favor from you, and I didn't know how you'd react. Third, I knew I'd
probably be waking you up. Angel was always grouchy when we woke him
up."

"And fourth?" he asked. She grinned in reply, a grin that was
decidedly devious.

"You like it when we're scared." she answered. "It makes you feel
like the Big Bad. So I played it up just a teensy bit to put you in a
good mood."

He chuckled. Yes, the chit was certainly smart.

"But why aren't you scared of me now?"

"Why should I be scared?" she answered. "I belong to you. No one will
hurt me when they sense your claim. Besides, you're not doing me any
favors now. We have a deal. A trade, right? Something I want for
something you want. I'm not worried about you rejecting me when I
know I have something you need."

"Clever girl." he said with a smile.

"Not really, just sensible." she answered.

"Why did your witch leave?" he answered, hoping to catch her off-
guard. He wanted to get an honest response out of her. He watched her
closely and saw her flinch. The pain in her expression passed
quickly, but he caught it, nonetheless.

"She left because she had no reason to stay." Willow answered, her
expression deliberately blank. "She hasn't liked this town since she
found out what goes bump in the night. She stayed and helped to be
supportive of me, but she finally reached her limit. I've been trying
to teach her to stand up for herself, you know? Not to let people
walk all over her. Well," she said, with a slightly bitter laugh, "it
worked."

Spike winced in sympathy. To that, he could relate. He remembered all
the time he had devoted to taking care of Drusilla and bringing her
back to full strength. And then, when he had finally succeeded in
restoring his princess, she had used her newfound strength to push
him as far from her as possible. "What happened, pet?" he asked, and
neither of them noticed how gentle his voice had become.

"She didn't like the idea of the bond." Willow answered. "The way she
saw it, it was Buffy's problem and we didn't need to be involved. She
said Buffy had options; that she could either suck it up and agree to
bond to you, or she could summon the First herself, and chose to die
after the ritual instead, but that either way, it wasn't our problem.
I told her that I had a chance to save the world and that I was going
to take it. She told me that if I bonded to you, it was over between
the two of us and she'd be leaving town on the next bus." Willow
sighed. There was no bitterness in it now, just sadness. "She's long
gone by now. It's probably for the best. I had no right to drag her
into this kind of life. She was right. There was no reason for her to
stay."

Spike was overcome with the unfamiliar urge to comfort her. He
struggled for something to say. "She did love you, you know."

Willow turned to face him and smiled again, a smile that was so
incredibly sweet and so impossibly sad that it wrenched something in
his dead heart. "I know." she whispered. "She loved me. Just not
enough to stay. They never love me enough to stay." She looked away
so he wouldn't see the tears welling up, yet again, in her eyes. She
didn't realize he could smell them.

His mind raced, trying to come up with a way to stop her tears.
he thought.

"So, pet, what happened with Xapper and that pig?"

"What?" she said, turning to face him again. He hid a grin at the
sight of the complete bewilderment on her face. He was rather proud
of himself. For once, he had caught her totally off guard.

"The yarn you were telling me about the moron when he turned into a
hyena. So what happened then?"

He could tell that she knew why he was doing this. He could tell that
it surprised her. And he could tell that she decided to relax, and
just go with it. She continued her story.

Spike had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard by the time she was
done. He hadn't tried to hide his enjoyment of the story this time
around, and she was smiling, smugly, content in knowing she had told
a good tale. She stretched and yawned.

"Tired, pet?" Spike asked.

"No, not really." she answered.

"You should be." he replied. "The spell alone must have worn you out,
not to mention how long you've been awake tonight."

"I don't sleep much." she responded. "Back in high school, I'd be up
all night researching or patrolling and then I'd still have to go to
school in the morning. I got in the habit of doing without sleep."

"Doesn't seem to have stopped the others." he said, nodding in the
direction of the living room, where he could hear the slayer snoring
softly.

Willow giggled. "Buffy and Xander always fell asleep during the
research sessions. Maybe if we'd woken them up, they'd have gotten
used to doing without sleep, too, but Giles and I got more research
done when they were.ahem. out of commission. So we figured we might
as well let them get their rest. Not to mention the fact that they
had no problem falling asleep during class. I was the one who always
tried to stay awake and eventually I got used to it. I've gotten to
the point where I get sluggish if I sleep more than a few hours a
night. Tara used to-" She cut herself off abruptly. "Besides, I'm not
used to sleeping alone." she finished, softly.

He sighed. He knew exactly what she meant. Maybe part of the reason
he was working so hard to keep her there on the porch with him was
because he didn't want to go home to his empty crypt and go to sleep
alone again. But he knew it was time for him to leave. He stood.

"Well, pet, tired or not, you should try to get some sleep. Keep in
mind, you have a date for two o'clock."

"That's right." she answered with a grin. "Have to rest up for that."
She gathered the mugs and moved back toward the door. She turned when
she reached it to smile back at him one last time. "Good night,
Spike."

"Good night, pet." he answered, and watched a moment longer after she
disappeared into the house. Then he pulled out another cigarette, lit
it, and walked away.

------------

Section 17:

Buffy had been talking continuously for the past twenty minutes.
Willow had stopped listening after five. Willow was currently running
through her vowel-sounds-noncommittal responses, whenever a response
seemed to be called for. Um, ah, oh, eh, uh-huh, unh-unh, etc. Buffy
didn't seem to notice. Willow felt a little bad for tuning out her
friend, but Buffy had been ranting unendingly about being forced to
kiss Spike, and Willow was more than a little tired of hearing about
it. They were, in fact, on their way to the crypt. Buffy had decided
it was best to get it over with, so she was joining Willow for her
two o'clock "date" with Spike. On the bright side, Buffy was carrying
some of the heavy ingredients that Willow had had to bring. Slayer
strength on trips like this was definitely a plus. On the down side,
Buffy had not stopped complaining.

Willow didn't see what the big deal was. Sure, there's the whole I'm-
kissing-a-corpse-with-no-body-temperature thing that comes into play,
but that didn't seem to be a problem for Buffy after all those make
out sessions with Angel. Willow was sure that Spike was a good
kisser. After all, the man had over a century of experience and he
didn't need to breathe. He could kiss a girl for days. Willow
shivered slightly at the thought. Anyway, it was just for ten
seconds. So why all the whining? much.> Willow thought. But it didn't matter. They were at the crypt
and, complaints or not, it would all be over soon.

Spike could hear the two heartbeats outside of the crypt. The witch.
And the slayer. Spike grinned. the dare> he thought sweet.> He waited for a knock. None came. Remembering last time, and
the witch's pledge of punctuality, he checked his watch. Two o'clock
precisely. So what was the hold up?

Outside the crypt, Buffy was trying to back out.

"Maybe I shouldn't do this now." she said. "You need to do your spell
thing and I'll just be in the way, so I can come back some other
time. Tonight, maybe! Or tomorrow! Or you know, this isn't urgent, it
could wait till next wee—"

"Buffy, stop it." Willow replied, trying to keep from laughing at the
sight of the fearless slayer attempting to subtly run away. "You know
that Dawn will never leave you alone till you do this. Besides,
waiting will only make you stress over it more. Let's do this and get
it over with."

They heard Spike's voice yell through the door.

"Come in already! If you're waiting for me to come out and greet you,
you'll be waiting a bloody long time. Sunset isn't for hours."

Buffy still looked uncertain. Willow sighed.

"Well, I'm going in. You can come in with me or you can stand out
here all day. It's up to you." And with that, opened the door and
walked inside. Buffy stood in the doorway for a moment, alone, still
searching for an escape clause to get her out of the whole situation.
When she didn't find one, she gritted her teeth, and entered.

Willow was seated on the floor, setting up a circle for the first
part of the spell. She didn't look up when Buffy finally shut the
door and joined them inside. Spike was leaning against the end of his
bed, smoking a cigarette.

"Slayer." Spike purred. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Buffy flushed and turned pleading to look at Willow. become designated interpreter?> Willow wondered. She started to say
no, to tell Buffy that this was something she would have to handle
herself, but Buffy looked at her so very beseechingly, that she
finally gave in.

"Spike, we were playing Truth or Dare last night and Dawn dared Buffy
to kiss you. That's why she's here. It has to be at least ten
seconds, with tongue, and if you try to take any kind of advantage of
the situation, she'll beat you until you beg to be staked. Does that
about sum it up?"

Buffy's blush had turned scarlet, but she managed to nod in agreement.

"How very… interesting." Spike stated, in the same silky, purring
tone, stalking forward slowly until he was standing directly in front
of Buffy. He reached up to brush back a lock of hair from her face.
Her jaw clenched, but she remained still. "So you expect me to stand
idly by and keep my hands to myself, while you spend ten seconds
trifling with my… affections? What's in it for me, slayer?"

Buffy was still blushing bright red, but she was getting angry now as
well.

"You get to kiss me." she spat out. "Isn't that what you want?"

"I'll be kissing you anyway." he said. "Sweeten the pot a bit.
Motivate me."

"I can't believe I have to put up with this." Buffy murmured.

"You don't." Spike replied, walking away from her to resume his
position, leaning against the bed. "If you can do this without me,
then there's the door. Don't let it hit you on your way out."

"You don't need to be awake for this, you know." Buffy replied,
storming forward to get in his face again. "I can beat you till you
pass out and then kiss you when you're unconscious. If I'm not going
to enjoy this, why should you?"

"You enjoyed it last time, pet. Don't you remember how you moaned
when I—"

"That was a spell!" Buffy hissed.

"The spell made you love me, slayer. There was nothing in there to
make you want me. You did that all on your own. When you begged me
for more" he whispered, leaning forward to speak directly into her
ear, "it had nothing to do with love. It was need. A need no one has
been filling since soldier boy left, right?" He leaned in a little
bit closer, let his body just barely brush against hers, taking in
the way she was gasping for air and stammering for words to
respond. "Am I right… love?" he asked, slowly.

Buffy started searching frantically for a stake. Willow stood. Things
had gone far enough.

"Conglacio!"

Buffy and Spike froze in place. Literally.

Willow was ready to scream. She simply could not believe that with
all that was going on, they would waste her time and their energy in
such ridiculous behavior. She closed her eyes and lofted a quick
prayer to the Goddess to give her patience. She took a few deep
breaths to calm herself enough to speak coherently, and then walked
over to the frozen pair.

"Buffy, your sister is the key to a mystical portal that will unleash
hell on earth. Spike, you have agreed to perform a ritual that could
conceivably destroy you. The world is trying to end. I really don't
think this is the time for bickering and acting like children. Buffy,
if you stake Spike, he can't save the world and you will either have
to die, kill Dawn, or watch the world end. Spike, if you keep
taunting Buffy she will beat you to a bleeding pulp and there won't
be a damn thing you can do about it. Buffy, you want to get the dare
over with. Spike, you want to kiss the slayer. So shut the hell up
and get it over with so Buffy can leave and we can move on, already!"

She walked back over to where she had set up the ingredients, and
reseated herself on the ground. As she continued to arrange the
different herbs and potions, she spoke again.

"If the destruction of everything you value isn't enough motivation
to keep you from acting like spoiled children, then remember this.
I'm a heart-broken, pissed-off witch who is sleep-deprived, sick from
too much chocolate, and still sore from the ritual last night that
bound me to a soulless demon. Believe me when I say you do not want
to make me cranky today." She sighed. "When I snap my fingers, the
spell will end and you'll be able to move again. I do not want to
hear a word out of either of you. I want to hear ten seconds of
kissing and then I want to hear the sound of the door shutting as
Buffy leaves. Blink if I have made myself perfectly clear." They both
blinked. Willow snapped her fingers.

Buffy started to open her mouth to speak. Spike noticed and
immediately attacked her mouth with his. He was not about to piss off
the witch, and he wouldn't let the slayer do it either. He kissed her
hard, completely distracting her from whatever she had planned to
say. She didn't have the chance to shut her mouth and he took
immediate advantage of the opportunity presented. She kissed him
back. Hard. Still angry. Fighting him, like she always did. He fought
back, attacking her with his lips and tongue and arms clasped tightly
around her.

From her position on the floor, Willow rolled her eyes. everything have to be so daytime drama between the two of them?> she
wondered.

"Alright." she said quietly, wondering if they could even hear
her. "The ten seconds are over."

Buffy showed no signs of noticing, but Spike pulled away, releasing
the slayer who was shaking with… anger? passion? fury? or maybe all
three. As smirk crossed his face as he watched her standing there,
speechless at last. He nonchalantly walked away from her,
deliberately turning his back to her, as he went to get a cigarette
off the table. He lit it and turned to face her again, exhaling the
smoke in her direction. He saw her face turn a furious red and knew
she was approaching her boiling point.

"Goodbye, Buffy." Willow said softly, without looking up. "I'll come
back by your place later, once I'm done here."

Buffy turned to look at Willow in surprise. It is quite possible that
she had forgotten the other girl was even there. She opened her mouth
to speak, but then closed it again. She did this a few more times,
looking remarkably like a fish. Finally, her mouth snapped shut, and
she bolted out the door, slamming it harshly behind her. Willow
winced at the bang that it made, but did not look up.

Section 18:

Spike strolled over and seated himself across the circle from Willow,
still smoking his cigarette as he watched her begin at last to
combine the ingredients in the small, portable cauldron she had
brought. For a few long moments, they sat in silence. She ignored
him, concentrating solely on the items in front of her. Spike was
growing impatient. He hated being ignored. But he knew he had to let
her speak first, unless he wanted to put the little witch in a very
bad mood. When she finally spoke, he expected it to be about the
ritual. Maybe she'd tell him exactly what she was brewing in the
cauldron of hers, or maybe she'd describe the processes and stages
they had to go through. Or maybe she would scold him again for how he
had treated the slayer, telling him he was being childish or cruel.
But she surprised him, yet again.

"You'll never get her to love you if you keep kissing her like that."
she stated without looking up, as calmly as if she had commented on
the weather.

By chance (or was it deliberate?) she made her comment right as he
was inhaling his cigarette and he starting coughing as the shock made
the smoke go down the wrong way. She still didn't look up, but when
he looked closely, he saw a slightly wicked little smile on her face.
Whether she was deliberately trying to make him choke or not, she was
unquestionably pleased with the result.

"What did you say?" he demanded, when the choking finally stopped.

Willow looked up at him with a single eyebrow raised. She held his
gaze for a moment, then rolled her eyes and returned to what she had
been doing.

"Well?" Spike asked, when he could stand the silence no longer.

"Give me a shirt." Willow said, looking up at him at last.

"Is that some new way of changing the subject?" Spike asked.

"I need a shirt." she answered, impatiently.

"What's wrong with the one you're wearing?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I need one of your shirts. Doesn't matter which
one, but you should pick something comfortable. It'll have to be the
shirt you wear when you fight Glory."

"Fine." he replied, placing his cigarette on the ground. In a smooth
motion, he pulled off the black t-shirt he was wearing. "Will this
do, pet?" he asked, smirking, pleased to have the chance to throw her
off balance. His smirk grew when he saw how she blushed, and tried to
avoid looking at him.

Willow chanted over and over
again to herself. vampire sitting only a few feet away from me may be. Not gonna look.
Nope! Not me. Not interested. Gay now.>

"It'll do." she mumbled, taking the shirt from him and laying it out,
still refusing to look at him.

"So what is it you're doing to the shirt, anyway?" he asked. As
amusing as it was to embarrass the witch to the point where she was
speechless, he was decidedly curious about what she was doing.

"Blessing it." she answered.

"Um, pet. That blessing wouldn't happen to include holy water, would
it?"

"Now, there's a thought." she muttered.

"Come on, witch. I know how you love to play teacher. So tell me what
you're doing, already. You know you want to." Spike wheedled in his
best teasing/manipulating voice.

"It's being blessed by my Goddess, Spike. No crosses, no holy water,
no Christianity whatsoever."

"So why are you blessing my shirt?"

"You can't call on the First and expect an immediate answer. It takes
a week of petitions first." Willow explained patiently. "It's the
same petition every day, and on every day, you have to form a link.
The shirt will provide a link. Your shirt, blessed by the Goddess,
will allow you to directly call the First. It starts off with your
shirt for the first day. I anoint it with the potion and then you
perform the petition. Tomorrow, we'll do the same thing to your skin.
Fingernail clippings would work. Do your fingernails still grow?" she
asked, and he smiled at the curiosity in her voice.

"They keep growing. Don't know why, really. They're supposed to stop
six months after you die. Hair keeps growing, too. Bloody annoying,
really. With no mirrors, I have to count on other people letting me
know when I need to re-bleach my hair."

She giggled at the thought of Spike beating up another vamp, bending
over the guy while pummeling him into the ground and asking him if
his roots were showing.

"Okay, so fingernail clippings tomorrow. Third day, we'll mix the
potion with some of your blood. The fourth day, I bless your hand.
The fifth day, I bless your mind, anointing your forehead,
specifically. The sixth day, I bless your heart. The final day, you
drink the potion. The link will be in place and you will be able to
call the First directly into you through the link you've formed."

"Well, that's just…" he took a pull off the cigarette, then exhaled
slowly, letting the smoke drift out, "neat." he concluded, the smirk
firmly back in place.

"Glad you approve." she replied, dryly.

"Alright" she said, standing up and brushing off her hands. "The
shirt is done. Now you need to make the petition. Can you read
Latin?" He nodded. "Good. Which direction is east?" He pointed to a
corner of the room. Vampires never get lost; they can always feel the
direction of the coming dawn. Better than a compass. Just one of the
perks of being a soulless demon.

Willow pulled four candles from her bag and set one up in each
direction: north, south, east and west. She lit them carefully,
muttering a brief incantation over each one. Finally, she pulled the
book out of her bag and opened it to the carefully marked page.

"Here's the incantation." she said, handing the book to Spike. "Read
the first section facing east, the second section facing south, third
section to the west and the fourth section facing north. And put out
your cigarette."

Grumbling, he pinched out the cigarette and tossed it to the side. He
took the book and skimmed over the incantation. He fought the urge to
shiver. This was really happening. He was really going to call the
First. For a moment he felt almost… nervous. But he forced himself to
shake it off. He could handle this. He was the Big Bad. He was
William the Bloody. He was one fourth of the Scourge of Europe. He
could do this. Hell Goddess? The bitch was going down. In a steady
voice, he recited the incantation. It was surprisingly
straightforward and to the point. this better damn well know what they were getting themselves into.>
he thought.

When the incantation was finished, the candles flared. Spike felt a
rush go through him, and then a fiery sensation, like holy water or
daylight. He looked over to where the witch was standing. The light
illuminated her, and the sight of her was breathtaking. He wondered
if that was what she looked like in the sunlight. Before he had a
chance to analyze the sight, it was gone. The candles blew themselves
out. Willow walked over to him and took back the spellbook. Calmly
and methodically, she began repacking her bags.

"Could I leave the ingredients here?" she asked. "It's a pain in the
neck to drag them back and forth."

"Sure, pet. Not a problem." Spike replied automatically, as he stood,
unmoving. He was still disoriented from the feelings the ritual had
caused.

"Well, that's all that we can do today." Willow said, standing and
lifting the backpack she was taking with her. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure." he answered, still in a daze.

"Then I guess I'll see you then." she stated, heading for the door.

"Witch!" he called out before she could leave.

"Yes, Spike?" she answered, turning to face him again.

"How should I kiss her?"

"What?"

"You said I'll never get the slayer to love me if I keep kissing her
like that. So how should I kiss her?"

Willow's brow furrowed as she thought this out.

"Kiss her with the man in you, not the demon." she finally answered.

"What?"

"You kiss her like you're trying to break down her resistance by
force. She's the slayer, Spike. If you try to break her down, she'll
just fight you back. She'd never let a demon defeat her. Don't make
it into a contest, or a battle of wills." He looked confused. She
rolled her eyes. "Be gentle with her. Kiss her like you love her,
instead of like you're trying to break her apart."

Now it was his brow that was furrowed in thought.

"I'm not sure I know how to do that." he admitted softly.

Willow looked at him and sighed. He looked so lost. In his defense,
she knew that this was a new thing for him. Most vampiresses probably
liked it rough. Courting a human was unfamiliar territory.

A wicked thought entered her head. Her good sense tried to banish it,
but it wouldn't go away. After all, she was on the rebound, he was
convenient, he looked damn fine without a shirt on, and he seemed to
require a demonstration of how to kiss. Why not? It was just one
kiss. It wouldn't mean anything.

Putting down her bag, she walked over until she was standing directly
in front of him. Tilting her head back, she looked up into his eyes
and grinned at him before sliding her arms around his neck.

"It goes something like this." she whispered, pulling his lips down
to hers.

Spike was shocked at the rush of pure pleasure that shot through him
when the witch slid her soft, warm hands over his bare shoulders and
around his neck. He could not remember the last time he had felt warm
hands on him intent on giving pleasure instead of pain. It felt
heavenly. But that was wiped away a moment later when he first made
contact with her very soft, very warm, very tempting lips.

She kissed him gently, just brushing her lips over his. Her
fingertips traced small circles on the back of his neck as she pulled
him closer. He responded by wrapping his arms tightly around her and
attempting to deepen the kiss. She let him hold her close, but pulled
her lips away from his.

"Gently." she whispered in his ear. "Show some control. Kiss me with
the man in you, not the demon. You have eternity; what's the rush?
Humans who know what they're doing take their time." It's possible
her words were wasted, since all thought flew out of his head as she
placed a series of small, wet kisses from just below his ear across
his jaw and back to his lips. She began slowly kissing his mouth,
tracing the shape of his lips with small darts of her tongue followed
by smooth pressure from her own lips, as if she was trying to absorb
the precise flavor and texture of his mouth. Following her example,
his grip on her became less harsh. His lips moved gently against
hers, letting her set the pace. He shivered with pleasure as her
hands slowly explored his back, memorizing that as well. Finally,
breathless, she pulled her lips away. Still in his arms, she looked
up into his eyes and whispered the last of her explanation.

"That's how you kiss like a man. Don't make it into a battle. Don't
try to force her into submission. It won't work. Don't make it about
winning and losing. Kiss her softly." She pulled out of his arms and
headed over to the door, picking up her bag. Just before she walked
out the door, she spoke one more time, facing him with an impish grin
on her face.

"Leave her wanting more."

Then the door was shut behind her and she was gone.

Willow felt her blush darken with each step that she took away from
the crypt. She couldn't believe she had just done that. What on earth
had she been thinking? Was it some kind of buzz from the incantation?
Did it have to do with the bond? What would he think of her now? What
would the gang think if they heard of it? Would he tell them? Did he
enjoy it? (Well, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that. She
had felt his… enjoyment rubbing against her lower stomach when he
pulled her close.) Would she ever be able to look him in the eye
again? Was he even now comparing her to Buffy? Oh, Goddess, what
would Buffy think? These questions and a million more rushed through
her brain.

Meanwhile, back at the crypt, Spike stood shock still right where she
had left him. Only one thought ran through his mind.

"What the hell was that?"