The words dropped on his ears, softly exultant.

He stared in disbelief, finally found his voice. "Darla?"

She laughed at his shock. "Yes, they brought me back."

"Who?" he demanded sharply.

"Wolfram and Hart. The law firm that owns this building." With a wave of her hand, she established proprietorship.

"Why did you want to see me?" he asked abruptly, eager to be off.

She tilted her blonde head to one side, allowing him to take in the expensive suit and trendy haircut. Darla at the top of her game.

"I need your help."

He frowned thoughtfully. He and Darla had never really gotten along, despite a few perfuctory encounters in bed. He recalled the way she spoke of Dru, calling her a moron, a loony, a...slut; and his face darkened. No, he and Drala had never gotten along.

"What for?"

Darla's smile never faltered. "Same old Spike- still so impatient."

She was suddenly cold. "I want vengeance. What else is there to want?"

"Against Angel?" he asked, calmly lighting a cigarette.

"Of course. And against the Slayer."

Spike snorted. "The Slayer! Right!"

"She's not invincible," Darla purred. "Together...we could destroy them. Both of them!"

Spike eyed her with exasperation. "Once I knew a bloke," he began,"who was a super soldier type, all made up of demon bits and pieces. He found the Slayer 'interesting.' And so I told him, she'll make you interestingly dead! But he didn't listen."

Spike shrugged, glancing around the gleaming glass cubicle that was part of the corporate HQ of Wolfram and Hart.

"Look, Darla, you got lucky. You got resurrected. So, use that luck! Get out of L.A., far away from Angel and the Slayer. Go while the going's good!"

Darla strolled up to him and cupped his face, staring intently into his face. "Since when was William the Bloody a coward? Or did you lose your manhood along with Drusilla?"

He jerked free of her, blue eyes blazing. "Stupid bint!" he hissed. "What you'll lose is your life! You got lucky once; but sooner or later, everyone's luck runs out!"

He strode to the door. "That wanker I mentioned...his fancy HQ is a parking lot now!" His gaze raked their surroundings. "Wonder what this place will be? A hotel? A hot dog stand?"

Spike was gone, on an echo of mocking laughter.

"So much for his help," Lindsey McDonald came out of the adjoining room.

Darla shook her head. "I got what I wanted."

"Oh?" Lindsey raised his brows. "He didn't exactly sound eager."

"You don't understand." Darla laughed, a silvery ripple of laughter that nonetheless made the hair rise on the back of Lindsey's neck.

"We have what we need from Spike." She held out her hand; and he could see several strands of hair gleaming between her fingers.

Lindsey began to smile.

It was not a pleasant smile.

"I can't!"

It was a despairing whisper that made Darla smile.

"You have to. You know what I'll do...otherwise."

"But, what if something goes wrong?"

"See that it doesn't," Darla's smile faded. "You know what I want; you know what to do. So- do it!"

There was a long silence; then the hooded figure slowly nodded.

Darla handed the gleaming green vial to Lilah. "Right then, off you go!" she said cheerily.

Lilah nodded briefly. then headed out.

"Your turn." Darla told Lindsey, handing him a twin vial.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Lindsey said, gingerly holding the vial.

Darla grinned maliciously. "Oh, I do."

Buffy Summers took the cafe latte from Xander with a smile of thanks.

"Here we go again, back at the good old Bronze!"

"Are you meeting Riley?" Willow asked.

"Uh-huh," Buffy kept her voice carefully casual. "He should be here soon."

"Soon, as in now," Xander nodded towards the door.

Buffy bit her lip. She couldn't understand why she felt so wigged. Surely she should be happy? She hadn't seen her boyfriend for three months, and now- here he was.

"Hi, Buffy," Riley Finn smiled down at her.

Buffy smiled back; but she was grateful for the presence of her friends.

A presence that didn't last long.

"Anya, let's dance!" Xander grabbed his girlfriend and hustled her off, just as Willow piped, "Tara, want to go to the ladies' room?"

"Well." Riley stared ruefully at the empty table. "Is it me?"

Buffy laughed nervously. "Their version of tact. They're giving us some alone time to get reacquainted."

"Oh? And we need time to get reacquainted because..." Riley paused inquiringly.

Buffy's unease increased. "Oh, you know...summer separation."

He studied her. "Is that all it is?"

"Of course!" Buffy took another sip of her latte, wishing it wasn't so hot. "Why..uh...don't we dance?"

Riley nodded soberly, aware that something was making her uncomfortable. Still, he couldn't wait to hold her again.

"What have you been doing?" he asked once they were on the dance floor.

"Ohh!" Buffy's tension eased and she said excitedly, "We found a house to rent! Xander, Willow, and me...and Spike, of all people! He needed a place to live; and Giles pointed out it was better to have him where we could keep an eye on him."

"Tell me about it," Riley said mechanically, trying to hide his hurt. She had never once hinted that she'd like living with HIM.

Buffy searched his face, dimly aware of what he was thinking. "You understand, right? That I need my friends?"

"Yeah," he conceded. "I know. It'll be good for you; and I only want what's good for you."

The tension between them evaporated suddenly.

"Let's sit down, and I'll draw you a picture of the layout," Buffy urged.

Back at the table she lifted her mug and sipped cautiously, finding it considerably cooler. She drank it thirstily; then grabbed a napkin and began to sketch. "The living room is on the left..."

In the shadows above, Lilah watched, eyes narrowing in satisfaction as the blonde girl drank. Lilah didn't know what the vial was supposed to accomplish; her years at Wolfram & Hart had taught her not to ask questions.

She'd fulfilled what she'd be ordered to do; silently she slipped unnoticed out the door and walked around the corner to where her car and driver waited.

Lindsey replaced the telephone. "Lilah. Mission accomplished."

"One half," Holland said pleasantly. "Lilah's half."

Lindsey heard the insinuation in the caramel-smooth voice.

"I'll do my part," he said defensively.

"Good," his boss responded. "I know you wouldn't want to disappoint Darla."

Lindsey shuddered at the thought.

*************************************************** "Wesley, do you like the sage green or the french blue?" Cordelia squinted at the paint samples on her coffee table. "I have to let David know today if we want the office ready by the end of the week."

"The green, I think," Wesley said, after a perfuctory glance. Cordelia nodded. "We'll have the blue."

Wesley sighed in exasperastion, but forbore to argue. "It is very nice of Mr. Nabbit to finance this enterprise."

"It's great! Especially with kate the Queen Bitch of the LAPD these days. I feel like filing a complaint against her; she's harassing us!"

"Se has issues," Wesley pointed out. "Although, I must admit she has made things difficult lately."

"I'll say. And you know why?" Cordelia leaned forward confidentially.

"She blames Angel for her father's death?" Wesley hazarded.

"No!" Cordelia said scornfully. "It's because she wants him, and can't have him! That always makes a woman do crazy things."

They were in the hushed, elegant bar of one of the finest hotels in the city. An exqquisite carafe of wine rested on the table between them, and the young lawyer reached for it and casually filled two glasses. He'd thought long and hard about the best way to get Angel to drink the potion; and finally concluded that he'd have to drink some himself in order to allay suspicion.

"You're nervous," the dark-haired vampire watched him closely.

"Why not?" Lindsey held up his still-bandaged forearm.

"Why did you ask me to meet here?" Angel fingered the stem of the wineglass.

Lindsey shrugged. "Mostly because we're not likely to be spotted together; and this is neutral territory. I have a deal for you."

"What deal?" Angel demanded.

"I can get Kate Lockley off your back," Lindsey said, taking a sip of his wine. "For a price."

"Why do I get the feeling your price will be too high?" Angel lifted his own glass to his lips.

Lindsey relaxed. "Not at all. We merely ask that you mind your own business. Difficult for you, perhaps, but we'd make our appreciation known."

A year ago, her apartment had been bright and attractive, welcoming to the few men she brought home, or the friends who sometimes dropped by to share a drink or a meal.

But no longer. Now the place was cluttered with her "special files"- and with weapons that would not have been out of place at the Crusades.

And- no one came here anymore.

Well, it was the base for a crusade; her own personal crusade against the vile things that had murdered her father and robbed her of any lingering innocence. She added the file to the sizable collection she was gathering on the demon that she'd once desired- and now hated bitterly.

Soon...very soon, she'd have enough to move against him.

"There! All moved in!" Willow exulted. "We need to celebrate!"

"A housewarming?" Xander suggested.

"Good idea! People will bring gifts and you'll get free stuff," Anya approved.

"So who's bronzing tonight?" Xander asked.

Buffy was about to nod, and then remembered Riley. He'd probably be at the Bronze, wanting to talk to her; and she didn't know what to say to him. Maybe it was a bit cowardly, but she decided to avoid him for one more night.

"I'll pass, guys. I'm really tired."

"Me too," Willow said reluctantly. "I'd better check on Tara; she hasn't been feeling well lately."

"Good," Anya said cheerfully. "Now we don't have to bother going to the Bronze at all, we can just go back to the basement and have sex."

"Uh, Anya, I don't live there anymore," Xander protested.

"I know!" his girlfriend responded. "Just think of the nostalgia!"

He lounged comfortably on the couch; time for a spot of telly.

Then his eyes widened- he couldn't believe his luck! Monty Python and the Holy Grail was on!

Grinning in anticipation, he took a big swallow and leaned back.

"What are you watching?"

Spike started as the Slayer wandered in. Much to his surprise, she sat down on the couch beside him.

"I never saw this movie before," she said chattily.

"And you're not seeing it now,' he snapped. "Go on, sod off! I was here first."

She looked at him just long enough to show the hurt in her big eyes. Slowly she started to get up.

"Wait!" he burst out. "Uh, Slayer, if you want to...it IS good telly, at that. So you might as well stay."

Buffy brightened at his grudging invitation. She promptly kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch, tucking her feet under her.

And- leaned against him.

Spike swallowed hard. His whole body reacted to her touch. He turned his head, expecting to meet her eyes.

But she was concentrating on the television, giggling at something on the screen.

"I love that killer bunny!"

Spike's head whipped back- his favorite part! And here he'd gone and missed it, all because the sodding Slayer chose this particular moment to act like she'd forgotten she hated his guts!

Was she doing this on purpose? He studied her through narrowed eyes.

"Here!" he burst out. "You...you're cuddling!"

She was too; he could distinctly feel her little hands grasping his arm. She dropped her hands, but didn't move away.

"Spike?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Why do you hate me so much?"

No way would he ever, ever tell her the truth- that he hated her because he was scared of what would happen, should he ever stop.

He thought about her so bloody much; but it was all right, it was even reasonable, to think about your mortal enemy.

Spike fell back on the standard, "Why do you think, Summers? You're the Slayer!"

Buffy considered this. "Did you hate the other two Slayers you fought?"

"Of course!" he lied, unable to recall anything about either.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, bollocks!" Spike growled. "Enough talk! Settle down now, Slayer, and we'll watch the end of this...I can't believe you haven't seen it before."

"I..." she avoided his gaze. "Maybe I'll go upstairs. I'm cold."

"No need on my account," he said quickly. "Here, put this fuzzy thing over you."

She obeyed him, pulling the afghan over her legs. Spike decided to say nothing about the fact that she was once more snuggled up aginst him; besides, the warmth felt good. It was definitely a bit chilly in the house.

"Here Slayer, give me a bit of that fuzzy thing," he coaxed.

"'Kay," she agreed amicably. "You want the inside or the outside?"

Spike felt a sudden need to breathe. Did she mean...but he'd never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Inside," he muttered. He stretched out- and she did the same, spooning back against him.

Under the afghan her tiny feet tangled with his in a way that suddenly seemed breathtakingly intimate.

"Ooo!" she squealed, "your feet are like ice!"

He felt affronted; had she forgotten he was a vampire? At any rate, it didn't stop her from cuddling against him.

Spike put one arm around the Slayer- for the sole reason that he didn't want her to fall off the couch and then blame him.

It was nice to hold someone this way, he decided. Dru was always so restless, a whirling column of manic energy- except when she was ill, and needed him to care for her. Poor bloody wanker, he'd mistaken her need for love.

Spike swore he'd never make that mistake again. Harmony was the way to go- easy, enjoyable sex, with no heartburnings.

He glanced down at the Slayer to find she'd fallen asleep. He felt unaccountably irritated that she was missing his favorite movie, until he realized it had ended without his noticing.

"Summers," he said quietly.

She stirred slightly but her eyes didn't open.

He rolled her gently onto her back. Buffy smiled in her sleep, and reached for him. Who was she dreaming of? Her soldier boy? The pillock in L.A.?

He surrendered to the lure of her touch, clutching her to him with a kind of desperation.

And a bitter recognition of the answer to her question. It wasn't her that he hated.

It was the effect she had on him.

"Darla," he croaked.

She looked at him through tear-filled eyes. "I don't know how it happened; or why I should have come back...with a soul. But if they find out...they brought me back to kill you, Angelus! But I, I could never do that, especially now. I don't want....I mean, I can't kill anymore! But I don't know how to live without killing!"

He reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of blonde hair back from her face. "I'll help you."

"Will you?"

"Yes. You'll never be alone, Darla. You have my word." Angel bent forward to kiss her cheek; but she turned her head swiftly so that the kiss landed on her mouth.

"Angel," she whispered. "My Angel."

But he missed the flash of triumph in her eyes as she said those words.

Someone else had seen, though.

Across the dark street, sheltered by the tall pillars of another building, Lindsey McDonald watched jealously.

"She's not for you," Lilah's voice came matter-of-factly from behind him. "Remember what she is."

"Do YOU remember, what HE is? " Lindsey snarled.

"Oh yes," Lilah nodded slowly. "A vampire."

"One with a soul," Lindsey pointed out.

Lilah smiled. "Some people claim that tigers can be tamed. They never actually are, they remain true to their nature- beautiful and deadly."hr>

Willow's worried face bent over her friend's bed. "I think you should see a doctor."

"NO!" Tara sounded panicked. "I'll be fine, it's just a touch of...flu, or something. In fact, you should probably go, before you catch it!"

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, hovering uncertainly.

"Yes, just go!"

"All right." Willow made no attempt to conceal her hurt. She paused at the door, glancing back.

But Tara huddled closely under the covers and never even looked at her.

Spike paced restlessly- living room to hall, to dining room- back again to hall. He was relieved there was no one around to observe him.

But they were all out- the witch visiting her girlfriend, the boy probably shagging that demon, the Slayer patrolling.

The windows rattled from the wind, a storm was blowing up. If the Slayer was out in this, she'd get drenched.

Not that he cared.

Especially if she'd been having him on last night, thinking it was a big chuckle to tease him and get him all worked up.

Spike's anger flared as he considered this. If it turned out to be true, and she'd played him, then he WOULD kill her, chip or no chip.

Then the front door opened, and Buffy walked in.

"Spike!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up at the sight of him. There was no possible mistake, she really was happy to see him.

He relaxed a little, then noticed she was soaked and shivering.

"Here, you go get some dry clothes," he ordered. "I'll put on a pot of chocolate."

"With little teeny marshmallows?" she giggled. But she ran off to obey.

Spike put the mugs of chocolate on a tray and carried them into the living room. He reached for the remote. The television came on, then flickered and died.

"Bloody hell!" Spike said, startled. "Spike?" Buffy edged slowly into the room. "What happened? All the lights are out."

"Power failure," Spike decided.

"Oh no!" Buffy groaned, "I can't see a thing."

"Here, give me your hand."

His vampire vision adjusted faster than her Slayer sight would, he knew. Her hand felt soft and warm in his, like a little bird nesting. Her smallness always appealed to him; it was such a piquant contrast to her super strength.

Spike guided Buffy over to the couch.

On the mantle were a collection of candles the witch had arranged; he crossed over to them and pulled out his lighter. The soft golden glow filled the room.

He turned back to Buffy; and his stomach clenched. The Slayer was wearing a pair of drawstring pants and a pale blue tank top, and she just looked so...edible!

Spike swallowed, and sat down resolutely beside her.

Instantly a sense of comfort and warmth spread through him as they sipped their chocolate together.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

"How edible you look," he answered honestly.

Her big eyes widened. "You mean...biting me?" she asked in a small voice.

"No!" he answered indignantly. It was true; it was a long time since he'd fantasized biting her. Perhaps his chip was responsible; but nowadays his fantasies were of a different sort.

"I meant, you look...smashing," he finished lamely.

Buffy blushed as red as a rose.

Spike watched, fascinated. Vampires never blushed; only humans could do that. Drusilla had been moon-pale.

With a start of surprise, he realized he hadn't thought about Drusilla in weeks. There'd been a time when she'd occupied his every thought. But that was before he'd become obsessed with the Slayer.

Lightning flashed outside; thunder continued to rattle the windows.

Buffy edged closer to Spike. "It's sort of chilly," she complained.

He reached for the afghan and pulled it over both of them. His hands lingered on her slim shoulders.

She lifted her face to meet his kiss.

Then, before their lips could touch, the door slammed.

Xander charged into the room. "The weather's like a monsoon out there! What're you doing?"

"We WERE watching telly," Spike nodded toward the moribund set, which made a crackling noise, and flickered back on.

"Oh, hey...this is American Pie!" Xander yodelled. "I love this flick!"

Eyes glued to the screen, he sank onto the couch next to Buffy, who sat up primly.

Spike cursed his luck. Just when he'd decided to put it to the test and see if the Slayer fancied him...

Beneath the afghan, her hand grazed the back of his. His head whipped around to stare down at her; and she smiled again, straight into his eyes.

"Yeah, here it is, the pie scene!" Xander yelled. "This is so cool!"

Holding Buffy's hand was a lot better than shagging a pastry, Spike decided. Xander didn't know the meaning of the word cool.

"Jealous, Cordelia?" Wesley asked wryly.

Her hand came up to slap him, then quickly dropped. "Well, maybe a little. But I REALLY don't trust her!"

"Yes, you've mentioned that," said Wesley sardonically. "Why? Because you don't believe she has a soul?"

Cordelia raised one arched brow. "Do you?"

"I'm...uncertain," Wesley admitted.

"Well, I know what I am going to do," declared Cordelia. "Tell the Other Woman all about Darla; and let her handle it!"

Wesley looked alarmed. "You really think it's wise to bring Buffy into this?"

She shook her glossy dark head. "Not Buffy. Kate!"

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Because, it's a war," Lindsey said softly. "And I really don't want to see the demons win."

Kate snorted.

"I know what you're thinking," he added quickly. "But just because I defend them doesn't mean I like them."

She got to her feet, hanging onto the folder. "Playing both ends against the middle again? Or is it just that some of your clients even scare YOU?"

He shrugged. "Oh, they do. But what has that to say to anything?"

Kate turned on her heel and strode out.

Lindsey smiled as he watched her go. He hadn't thought it would be that easy to get her to take the bait; but her obsession came close to rivalling his. The difference was that he would make no mistakes; and he knew that she would.

She was surprised; yet grateful for the diversion- less chance of being disturbed.

Safe within her room, she locked the door and lit the candles. Something was troubling Tara; and Willow was determined to find out what it was.

She began chanting...suddenly the candles elongated, and flames exploded outward to lick at Willow's clothing!

She screamed, beating desperately at the fire with her hands. Abruptly the flames died out, leaving scorched spots on the freshly painted walls.

Willow stripped off the charred remains of her skirt and top, sobbing in pain and fear. She was relieved to find just two small burns on each leg. She tended them in numbed disbelief; then put on her favorite plaid pajamas and slipped trembling into bed.

I won't sleep, she thought, I'm way too scared to sleep tonight.

But she did at last, even though the sky was turning gray by that time.

The sun was high overhead when Angel finally woke; and he smiled with the joy of seeing her blonde head on the pillow beside him.

"Yes," he said out loud, "do you know how much I've missed you?"

She turned toward him, smiling radiantly. "Not as much as I've missed you, my love," Darla said.

"Not half as much!"

"Trouble will come of this; we feel you should be prepared," Wesley said carefully.

"I'm prepared." Kate grinned, showing all her teeth. "You don't GET more prepared than I am!"

"Uh-oh," Cordeleia said aloud, "You've got issues, as Giles would say."

Kate practically leaped to her feet. "Listen to me! I know all about Daral; and I'll deal with her in my own time, my own way. But don't think I consider that boss of yours to be any better! He's an abomination; and I'm going to make sure he and all creatures like him are destroyed! Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Cordelia replied curtly. "Let's go, Wesley. If we need help, we'll get it from somebody with at least an average amount of brains!"

Wesley sighed as he followed two enraged women out the door. He and Cordelia turned in the opposite direction from Kate.

"It's plain we can expect no assistance from that quarter," Wesley said.

"So we'll get help someplace else. I'm going to Sunnydale to see Giles."

"I don't know," Wesley was dubious.

"We've got no choice! Look, I won't bring Buffy into it. Although Darla might."

"All right, we'll go to Sunnydale," Wesley capitulated.

"I will! You'll have to stay here to keep an eye on Angel," Cordelia instructed.

Wesley sighed again. "Give my regards to Mr. Giles."

"Cordelia!" Xander's voice reflected his shock at seeing his former girlfriend standing on the doorstep.

"Hi Xander," she said quietly. "I need to talk to Giles. He wasn't at the apartment, so I had to come here...."

She followed him down the hall to an old-fashioned kitchen. "I like your place."

"Cordelia! What's the matter?" Giles nearly dropped his tea cup.

"I don't know," admitted Cordelia. "I mean, I don't KNOW anything is the matter, there's no visions or anything. BUT, my gut tells me there's something wrong!"

"Yeah, that happens to me a lot," Xander quipped. "Usually whenever Anya does the cooking."

"Xander, please," Giles frowned. "If Cordelia senses something wrong, then I am prepared to take it very seriously indeed. Perhaps you should call Buffy."

"No!" Cordelia yelled. "How do you think she'll react, finding out that Darla and Angel are back together?"

"Angel and Darla are together?" Buffy repeated, walking slowly into the kitchen.

Cordelia dropped her head onto her hands and groaned. "I didn't plan on telling you."

"Why not?" Buffy asked in surprise.

Cordelia's jaw dropped. "You mean- you don't mind?"

Buffy reddened. "Angel and I haven't been tgether for a long time. Darla's not exactly my favorite person, but if she's got her soul back..."

"That's just it!" Cordelia interrupted. "I don't think she does. Angel might believe it, but I don't."

"Er, why don't you?" Giles inquired.

Cordelia stared at them blankly. "I don't know. It's basically a...a..."

"We know," Xander nodded, "a gut feeling."

Cordelia flushed angrily. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Buffy glanced worriedly at Giles. "Is there a way to tell for sure whether a vampire has a soul?"

"I always thought not murdering or torturing people was a good indicator," Xander put in.

"We need something more," Buffy insisted. "Like, a spell or something! Where's Willow?"

"Here I am," Willow, still wearing her pajamas and robe, padded down the hall. Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Are you getting up late; or going to bed early?"

"I...I've been feeling sort of..off," Willow stammered. "But I'm fine now, it was probably a cold. So you need a spell to tell if a vampire has a soul? I can do that."

"Hey Will, maybe you can get Tara to help you," Xander suggested.

"NO!"

Willow's sharpness made them all jump. "Uh, I mean, Tara has it too, this cold or whatever, she's too sick to help. But I have an idea."

"What?" Buffy asked expectantly.

"There's a way we might find out."

"I hope this works," Cordelia said, glancing at Xander in the car beside her.

He hunched over the steering wheel. "Angel's not going to like this."

"It's for his own good," Cordelia said virtuously. "He shouldn't be sleeping with soulless demons! But, I wish Giles had come."

"I can get the job done," Riley said firmly.

Cordelia leaned closer to Xander. "Tell me again why he came along."

He shrugged. "He insisted."

"Besides, this Darla won't recognize me," Riley said with satisfaction.

That was true, but Willow couldn't help wondering whether Riley's true motive was to see Angel looking foolish if Darla was proved to be still soulless. He had all but forced his company on them; and Willow thought Buffy wouldn't be happy if she'd known. But she'd gone off patrolling with Spike, and short of ordering Riley point-blank to get out of the car, there seemed no way of getting rid of him.

Xander caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. "You sure you feel up to this, Willster?"

The four of the were driving to L.A,. Cordelia sat up front next to Xander while Willow and Riley shared the back seat.

"I hope we do this fast; I don't like leaving Buffy alone too long," Riley said importantly.

"She's not alone," Xander pointed out. "Spike is patrolling with her."

"That's something else I don't like." Riley snapped.

Cordelia laughed scornfully. "Don't be silly- Buffy and SPIKE?"

Then she noticed that neither Xander nor Willow had cracked a smile.

"What? You don't think..."

"Nah. Of course not." Despite his words, Xander's voice sounded uncertain. "They don't get along, they...well, they're mortal enemies!"

She sat down on the park swing, staring up at the blond vampire.

Spike's mouth twitched. "That we are, pet. We've got a regular love-hate relationship, we have."

He stepped behind her and gave her swing a gentle push. "Only somehow, lately, when we're together..."

"The hate part sort of evaporates and the other part kicks in?" Buffy suggested timidly.

"That's it, ducks." Spike pushed her higher, glad she couldn't see his face.

It gave him the strangest feeling, hearing the Slayer talk about "love."

Well, humans....

Not that she WAS entirely human, Spike was convinced of that. Since he'd started hanging around her, he'd found startling similarities between them.

She was laughing now, enjoying her ride on the swing. The swing moved slower and slower...he stopped pushing and walked around, waiting to help her off when it stopped.

Instead, she leaped forward, into his arms. He staggered back, barely managing to stay on his feet.

Buffy giggled, flung both arms around his neck, and kissed him.

After his first startled reaction he kissed her back, cautiously at first, but then with increasing passion. Soon they were both caught up in a rising tide of emotion; it was Buffy who finally broke the kiss, staring at him with shining eyes.

"Wow," she said, trying to catch her breath.

He chuckled; then it turned into a full-blown laugh, in which she joined. Buffy reached out and took Spike's hand, linking their fingers companionably.

"We'd better slow things down."

"Why?" Spike demanded harshly. The last thing he wanted was to try to cool the blood now boiling in his veins.

Her large eyes twinkled at him. "We're in a public place, pal," she pointed out. "We don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure."

"Then...let's go home," he commanded, awed by his daring.

She stared at him for a moment that seemed longer than his 127 years.

"Let's," she said at last.

She smiled her feline smile, in control as always. "What is it you want of me?"

"Your love," Lindsey said, stammering in his eagerness.

Her laughter rippled thoughout the room. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Lindsey responded, almost shouting. "Make me...one with you!"

Darla's lovely eyes were hooded and secret. "Perhaps, dear boy. But, not yet."

"When then?" Ardently he captured one of her slender hands and pressed it to his lips.

"How can I tell?" she teased. "After I have had my revenge, we shall see!"

"Revenge? Against Angel, or...the Slayer?"

Her lips curved in an enigmatic smile. "Both. He staked me for HER sake. But I've already begun my revenge, by making her love that which she should hate."

"What about Angel?" Lindsey dared to ask. "Will you do the same, to him?"

"No!" Darla snapped. "I am going to restore him to his true nature. Then, he'll kill her. Unless Spike already did the job! That's how I shall be revenged on them."

"And afterwards?" Lindsey insinuated.

"Why then...I'll need a new lover, won't I, Lindsey?"

He moaned with plesure at her words, covering her hand with more kisses until she wrenched it away from him.

Go now," she ordered.

From her balcony, she watched him hail a cab.

Then, and only then, did she allow herself to go into her luxurious bathroom and scrub her hand clean.

"Mangy human," she muttered in disgust.

She had often thought Buffy's treatment of hhim was terribly unfair; it wasn't his fault that he'd gotten in over his head.

Now, though, he was different: more competent, more confident in his ability to cope with the dark forces.

"You've changed," she blurted, then could have kicked herself.

Wesley smiled at her reassuringly. "It's all right, Willow. I feel I cut rather a poor figure in Sunnydale."

"No," Willow placed her hand on his arm. "It's just that you were sent to replace Giles; and we love Giles."

"I envied him," Wesley confessed. "He was everything I ever wanted to be."

"But you are," Willow protested. "You've both devoted your lives to fighting demons. It's a selfless thing to do."

"Isn't it what you are doing?"

"Not really," Willow said honestly. "We got into it to help Buffy; but mostly I just wanted to study magic and learn all about what it would do. And sometimes, I use my magic to try to make things turn out the way I want. That's pretty selfish, isn't it?"

Wesley hesitated. "It's understandable. It's ...human. And mostly, what you want is for the good, isn't it? If the chips were down, I feel you would always use your magic for the right cause; and that's what counts."

She returned his smile, both surprised at his understanding and grateful for it.

For the first time, she noticed how young he was...not all that much older than she, actually.

And rather attractive....

She'd probably expect to be held for a while...

Experimentally he pulled her closer, settling her head against his shoulder. It felt nice, he decided.

He wasn't used to cuddling; Dru hadn't allowed it unless she was ill, and Harmony just wnated sex and plenty of it.

But a human girl, even a super human like the Slayer, would still demand some snogging. He smiled. Snogging and shagging...he'd gne too long without either.

Impulsively he kissed the top of her head. Then he frowned...was he growing soft?

Defiantly, he kissed her again.

She was his now; he could kiss her if he wanted to.

Didn't mean anything.

He'd still destroy her when the time was ripe.

Smiling, he shut his eyes, still holding the Slayer close.

Cordelia glanced up. "Will you please calm down? It's Riley and Willow who have to do the hard part. You're just an observer."

"Well?" he asked expectantly.

Cordelia was puzzled. "Well what?"

"Aren't you going to crack wise about how observiing is the only thing I'm good for?"

"No." she shook her dark head. "Because it's not true. Buffy can't function without you and Willow and Giles."

Xander was amazed. "You really think so?"

"No," Cordelia shrugged. "She can, of course. It's more accurate to say she doesn't want to."

He grinned. "Sometimes, I realize how much I've missed you."

Cordelia blushed, but kept her voice steady. "Sometimes...I miss you too."

"Ready, Willow?" Wesley asked quietly.

She nodded, visibly trembling.

"Me too," Riley said impatiently. "Let's get this show on the road!"

"Patience, big guy," Xander advised. "Will knows what she's doing."

The front door of the law office opened, and Darla emerged, trailed by Lindsey.

"Oh perfect!" Cordelia flung up her arms in disgust. "The smarmy lawyer's with her."

"So what? A human can't be affected, right?" Riley asked.

"No," Willow answered. "It's just a mild version of the soul-destroying spell...Riley will toss the liquid on her, I'll start the chanting, and if she feels any pain whatsoever, we'll know she has her soul and we stop. If she doesn't react, then she has no soul and never did."

Darla and Lindsey were almost opposite the mouth of the side street where the others waited.

Willow signaled, and Riley raced forward with the potion as she began chanting.

Two things happened simultaneously- an unmarked police car skidded to a halt, disgorging Kate...and Angel.

And a hooded figure appeared in the street beyond Darla, arms extended. A hooded figure that began chanting louder than Willow.

"Stop!" Angel shouted, running toward Darla.

Lindsey threw himself on Riley, trying to block him, but Riley's momentum sent them both careering into Darla...and Angel. The liquid splashed both vampires.

Angel screamed in agony, sinking to his knees.

Kate drew her gun.

"NOOO!" shrieked Willow. She started forward; but Wesley seized her around the waist and jerked her out of the line of fire.

The hooded figure vanished as Kate's gun spoke.

Riley lurched...then slowly toppled as the bullet ripped the top of his head off.

Angel scrambled to his feet as Kate fired again and again, emptying her gun at what she could only perceive as the crowd of demons before her.

But none of her bullets found the heart, and Angel fled into the night with Darla and Lindsey.

Kate ran after , still firing.

Cordelia was first to move.

"Wesley!" she hissed. "We have to leave- now!"

The ex-Watcher didn't hesitate. Still clutching Willow, he started herding them back into the darkness, away from the sound of approaching sirens.

They piled into Xander car; Cordelia behind the wheel.

"Your keys!" she barked.

Xander handed them over, and Cordelia peeled away, rounding the corner just as the first squad car turned in.

"Where are we going?" Wesley panted, trying to fasten a hysterical Willow's seatbelt.

"Where do you think?" Cordelia said grimly.

"To the Hellmouth!"

SHE was in class; and he hated those times when she wasn't with him. It was like he didn't trust her- like he felt she'd stop fancying him if he let her out of his sight long enough.

At least the sun would be down soon, and he could go meet her.

The doorbell rang.

Spike hesitated; he rarely answered the door even at night...that was a chore he preferred to leave to the others. But it was just possible that the Slayer had forgotten her key.

He wrenched it open, fumbling with Xander's deadbolt...

And froze.

"Hello, Spike," Angel smirked. "Going to invite us in?"

Darla laughed mockingly as Spike slammed the door in their faces.

Darla- and Angel! No, not Angel, but Angelus! Angelus was back, and he would...

Spike ran to the phone, dialing frantically.

"Rupert!" he yelled into the receiver. "They're here! Darla and Angelus, and they'll be after the Slayer! You have to find her, warn her..."

Giles' eyes closed in despair. He had hoped for a little more time.

Instead, Willow huddled, sobbing, in the armchair, with Wesley hovering solicitously over her. Xander and Cordelia both appeared to look like their nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

They had arrived on Giles' doorstep not ten minutes earlier; and he had barely grasped their account of the night's disaster.

And now Buffy was in danger.

Giles dropped the phone- and let Ripper out.

"Right! Darla and...and Angelus have turned up. Buffy...where will Buffy be now, Willow?"

Willow continued to sob.

"WILLOW!" Ripper's snarl brought her head up in shock.

"Giles," Wesley interceded. "Don't you think..."

But Willow answered, "She'll have American History. It should just be finishing...sometimes she stops by the Student Center, but lately she's been going straight home."

"I don't get it," Xander sounded bewildered. "How can they be standing outside when the sun hasn't gone down?"

"See for yourself," Cordelia nodded at the window, which showed a slate-colored sky and steady downpour.

Giles strode to his weapons chest and flung it open. "All of you take what you can carry. We need to move fast."

"You expect us to go out there?" Cordelia grimaced, pointing to the rain.

"Angel has access to my home," Giles told her bluntly.

The tall brunette leaned forward, scooping up a stake and three bottles of holy water. "What are we waiting for?"

Wesley tried to coax Willow to her feet, but she resisted.

Giles lost patience. "Carry her if you have to! We need to find Buffy!"

She'd decided that avoiding him was both cruel and cowardly. She would find him, explain that her feelings for him had changed, and that it was better for them both if they split up.

She sincerely hoped she could keep him as a friend; but she knew she had to tell him the truth.

Eventually she had run into Graham, who'd told her Riley had gone out of town for a day or two.

Disappointed at not being able to carry out her plan, Buffy decided to postpone patrolling and hurry home- to Spike.

She grinned at the thought of him; by now he'd be pacing like a caged panther, worrying about where she was.

"Hello, lover."

For an instant Buffy thought she was asleep and dreaming, because that voice was one she only heard in her worst nightmares.

She whirled, and Angel stood there smiling at her. An utterly cruel, malicious smile that chilled her blood.

"Angel?" she whispered in disbelief.

"Oh no," Darla stepped onto the path beside him. "Not your Angel. My Angelus."

Buffy stared from one to the otheunable to move...unable to even hold her stake.

He noticed. He always observed everything.

"You know you won't be able to use that, Buffy. Not on me."

Her resolve hardened. "Try me!"

"Shall we?" Darla turned to him, smiling.

"Ladies first," he bowed.

Darla vamped; and threw a punch at Buffy.

The Slayer blocked; then kicked Darla in the mouth, sending her spinning away.

Angel backhanded Buffy, slamming her against a tree. The image flickered into her mins of another time he'd hit her, to prevent her from attacking Faith.

She'd been unable to believe it, then.

She had no trouble believing it now.

Buffy launched herself forward, knocking Angel off-balance; but by now Darla was up.

Buffy felt a stinging pain in her side- and twisted away just as Drala drove in the knife. The gash was surface, but began bleeding profusely.

"Oops, better aim next time," Darla mocked. She ran at Buffy, knife extended, and the Slayer dodged again.

But this put her in Angel's reach; his big hands closed relentlessly around her tiny waist.

"That's more like it, lover," he growled, as he bent her backwards.

Buffy saw his jagged fangs coming closer to her neck....

Then- a scream from Darla made his head whip around, loosening his hold the slightest millimeter.

Darla was shrieking in pain, clutching her face; while Cordelia, having flung all the contents of her bottle of holy water, went speeding away.

Buffy took advantage of Angel's distraction to kick him hard, pushing him away from her.

But she'd lost much blood, and was too weak to really hurt him. He recovered quickly, punching her in her injured ribs.

Her legs buckled and she slid to the ground, watching through blurry eyes as Angel's huge hands reached for her again.

Something hit him from the side, and he went sprawling away from her.

Buffy saw Spike sitting on top of Angel's chest, punching him over and over again.

Darla flew at Spike, screeching and clawing, her face still red and puffy from the holy water.

Xander and Giles ran towards them, one hefting a taser rifle and the other a cross-bow.

But Angel was quicker; with a surge of force, he wrenched free of Spike, flinging him into the path of the tazer as Xander fired. Wesley flung himself at the gun enough to deflect it harmlessly into the bushes.

Angel raced off into the night, sparing no thought for Darla.

Darla scrambled away from them and grabbed Cordelia.

"Stay back,' she hissed, knife against Cordelia's throat, "or I'll kill her like I did the Slayer!"

But Cordelia had been in this position before; and she was a girl who believed in fighting fire with fire. In a flash, she turned her head to sink her teeth into Darla's wrist.

The vampire's shrill screams echoed loudly as she dropped the knife and fled.

Cordelia fell, skinning her knees on the gravel path.

"Cordy!" Xander yelled.

"I'm...okay!" she gasped. "Help Buffy!"

Giles was kneeling over an unconscious BUffy. "We must get her to safety at once!"

"Give her here!" Spike scooped up the Slayer.

"Damn you, Slayer!" he snarled as Giles stripped away the blood-soaked jacket and top.

"Damn you...don't you die on me, you little bitch! Don't you dare die...!"

Willow was crying again; Wesley sat with both arms around her, trying to soothe her.

Cordelia edged closer to Xander, swallowing hard, her dark eyes fixed on the still form of the Slayer.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Giles looked up. "It's all right. She's lost a lot of blood but she's going to be fine."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?" suggested Cordelia.

"No!" Giles said sharply. "She's safer here; Darla and Angel can't get in without an invitation. Right now she needs rest, to give her Slayer healing power a chance to work."

"We ALL could use some rest," Cordelia agreed. "I know I am exhausted!"

"Yes, but first we'd better take a few precautions," Giles decided. "Xander, you and I had better scatter some garlic on the windowsills. Er, Spike..."

"Go ahead, Rupert." Spike's burning blue eyes remained fixed on Buffy's face. "I don't plan on going anywhere tonight."

"Right," Giles nodded. "Xander, carry Buffy up to her room, please..."

"No!" Spike lifted Buffy, cradling her gently. "I'll do that."

Giles removed his glasses and polished them on the hem of his sweater.

"Very well."

Spike placed Buffy in her bed, stripping off her shoes and the rest of her clothing. He was careful not to touch the bulky bandage Giles had fixed over the cut.

She sighed and turned over, onto her uninjured side.

He stood watching her, willing her to get better.

As if in response to his wish, her eyes opened. "Spike?"

"Yeah, pet, I'm here."

She smiled, snuggling down into the bed. "Don't leave me."

"You know you'll never get rid of me, luv," he told her shakily. "Don't I always keep coming back to Sunnyhell, just to plague you?"

She gave a little gurgle of laughter, then promptly fell asleep.

He sat beside her for a while, watching as she slept. He had almost lost her tonight; might still lose her to the combined threat of Angelus and Darla- and his stomach clenched at the thought.

"No," he said aloud. "I'm not letting anyone take you away from me. You belong to me...you're all I got!"

The words were over loud, he quietened but she didn't wake. Slowly, he got to his feet and began to remove his clothing.

He slid into bed beside her, curling protectively around her body.

He intended to guard what was his.

They'd have to kill him to get to her.

Spike's mouth curved ruefully as he acknowledged there was every chance they'd do exactly that.

Willow emerged from the bathroom and got into bed.

Wesley was sitting in a chair and the foot of her bed; and he moved to tuck her in.

"Try to get some rest, Willow," he said softly. "Things will look better in the morning."

She laughed harshly. "Will they? Angelus is still back; and Riley will still be dead. So how will they look better?"

He sat down beside her. "You can't keep blaming yourself. You'll cry yourself sick!"

"No," she said dully. "I don't think I have any tears left."

He said nothing, just patted her knee sympathetically.

"Wesley, where...where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"Don't worry about me," he smiled reassuringly. "I can just stretch out on that sofa downstairs."

"No, stay with me! Please?" she begged, wondering what had made her so bold.

He hesitated. "Willow, I...that isn't a good idea."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because, you're overwrought; and ...and very lovely."

Her mouth curved into a tiny smile. "You really think so?"

"Anyone would," said Wesley with conviction. "Which is why I'd better get downstairs."

"But I don't want you too," Willow said stubbornly. "I want you here, in THIS room. In this bed."

Wesley drew in a sharp breath.

"I'm not a child," Willow declared, meeting his eyes. "I'm a grown woman who knows what she wants; and tonight, I want you!"

"Are you certain?" Wesley asked.

"I've never been more certain about anything," insisted the red-haired witch.

She lifted the corner of the sheet. "Now come to bed!"

Wesley smiled slightly. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Is this your room?" Cordelia asked Xander as he opened the door for her.

"Uh-huh. Like it?"

Cordelia looked around critically; it was like some retro sixties flower-child den, she decided, trying not to laugh.

"I love it," she told him sincerely. "But- where are you going to sleep?"

He shrugged. "On the couch down in the living room, I guess. It's very comfortable. "

He wouldn't, of course; he'd hand it over to Giles and make do with a sleeping bag on the floor. But there was no need to tell her so.

"Aren't you,um, worried about Anya?"

Xander shook his head. "She can look after herself. She's probably gone to ground until after the battle is over. She has a tendency to do that."

Cordelia dropped her eyes. "So did I, once. Remember?"

"You didn't tonight," he pointed out. "I think maybe you saved Buffy's life."

She shook her head. "Spike did that; the only life I saved was my own."

"That's worth something, isn't it?" Xander smiled at her.

Cordelia smiled back- then stepped past him, closed the door, and turned the lock.

"I'm glad you think so," she whispered; and kissed him thoroughly.

He eyed the living room couch with disfavor, then decided to leave it for Xander or Wesley.

Spike would not be using his bed tonight; and Giles headed down to the vampire's comfortable basement room.

The couch remained unoccupied that evening.

On the street below, a solitary figure watched the house.

One by one, the lights were going out. They would be weary, craving sleep. He thought it doubtful anyone would be standing guard- they knew no vampire could enter.

But he was human.

Lindsey smiled evilly; and settled down to wait until everyone was deep in slumber.

Then....then he'd find a way inside.

Buffy opened her eyes, feeling much refreshed. The throbbing pain in her side was gone, already nearly healed; and she was rested and strong.

She sensed a presence beside her and turned her head to see Spike, his body sheltering hers like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

Buffy grinned and lifted one hand to trace the prominent cheekbones.

It was almost dawn...

A tremendous crash shattered the silence.

Spike leaped awake, frantically clutching for Buffy, who was already off the bed.

"Downstairs," she gasped, dashing for the door.

They all converged in the front hall to find Anya standing over the body of a one-handed man.

On the floor was the shattered remains of the small lamp that had formerly stood on the hall table.

"Caught him sneaking in," Anya explained proudly. "He didn't notice me until I was right behind him!"

Then she looked, really looked, at the crowd surrounding her; and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Giles didn't blame her; the selection of nightwear was suggestive, to put it mildly.

Spike wore his usual leather duster- with apparently nothing underneath. Buffy was clad in Spike's red silk shirt, buttoned all wrong.

Willow was clothed in her favorite red plaid pajamas; but only the top half. The bottom half was covering Wesley.

But it was Cordelia and Xander who were responsible for Anya's look of murderous rage. Both were dressed in a pair of boxers and an undershirt....absolutely IDENTICAL in every way. And all too obviously Xander's, as Anya no doubt recognized.

Anya's mouth opened; but before she could say anything, Cordelia exclaimed, "It's Lindsey! The lawyer from Wolfram and Hart."

"Indeed," Giles clutched his blanket more closely around himself. "Xander- tie him in the living room! Everyone- get dressed!"

Lindsey stirred and opened his eyes. He found himself bound to a chair, and ringed by a crowd. He recognized Cordelia, sitting at one end of the couch to his left. Wesley and a red-haired girl occupied the other end. To his right, a man all in leather scowled at him from a chair; a tiny blonde girl was perched on the arm. Directly opposite were two men he didn't recognize, and a slender girl on a low hassock.

"Good, you're finally awake!" Cordelia adopted an aggrieved tone. "Now tell us what you're doing here!"

"I need help," Lindsey directed his speech to the older man in glasses.

Cordelia snorted in disbelief; but Lindsey continued, "I want to help you stop them- Angel and Darla."

"Oh, you do?" Wesley was openly skeptical. "And who brought Darla back in the first place? I was under the impression that it was your firm."

"Yes, all right,' Lindsey concurred, his voice jerking. "But we thought, we were sure, that we could handle Darla."

"And now you find you can't," Wesley concluded.

"Still, why us? Why not contact the police?" Xander asked.

"The police!" Lindsey laughed bitterly. "Did you see what that detective did to that boy? Blew his head off first, asked questions later!"

"What boy?" Buffy asked curiously.

Lindsey, missing Xander's frantic attempt to catch his eye, told her.

"Riley something...Flynn?"

"Riley Finn," Buffy repeated, getting slowly to her feet.

"Buffy, it was my fault!" Willow cried. "I didn't mean it, but..."

"It was NOT your fault, Willow." Wesley stopped her. "It was a tragic...miscalculation on the part of Kate Lockley. Buffy..."

But Buffy turned and ran from the room, swiftly followed by Spike.

"I can't go to the police," Lindsey insisted. "What we need is to break the spell!"

"What spell?" asked Cordelia blankly.

Buffy flung herself sobbing across the bed.

Spike hovered uncertainly, fighting his feelings of jealousy.

"Pet?" He eased down beside her, and began awkwardly rubbing her back.

Finally her tears stopped; she rolled over, eyes streaming.

"Spike," she cried, "It's my fault Riley's dead!"

He stared at her with dropped jaw.

"I got him involved in my world. It led him to his death."

"What utter rot!" Spike exclaimed, finding his voice. "He'd signed on with those demon hunters long before he'd ever met you, Slayer! His decision, his choice."

Miserably, she rubbed at her eyes. "I know, but..."

"But nothing!" he interrupted. "Don't feel guilty about the soldier boy, pet. Knowing you, you'll find enough to feel guilty about on your own account."

Buffy gave a choked hiccup of laughter; and threw herself into his arms.

"Oh Spike, I love you!"

Time stopped; the world tilted on its axis and then righted itself, leaving him to ownder if he was on his head or his heels.

Nothing seemed real to him, except the small girl in his arms.

It occurred to him he should say something, the Slayer would expect it; but he couldn't find his tongue.

She pulled away, a question in those enormous eyes.

"I..."Spike swallowed, and tried again. "I love you too, pet."

It was said; it was over with; now he could move again.

She tugged at his arm. "We'd better get downstairs and see what's going on with that lawyer."

But he had to have a kiss first; he held her back long enough to ravish her mouth.

They went down hand in hand, to find everyone in the room waiting for them in silence.

Giles nerved himself to speak; but Xander forestalled him.

"Buffy!" he yelled. "Get away from Spike- right now!"

Spike and Buffy exchanged astonished looks.

"What are you raving on about, you twit?" Spike growled.

"Buffy," Giles put his arm around her, "there's something we must tell you."

"You're under a spell!" Xander blurted. "That sleazy law firm hired a powerful sorcerer to steal Angel's soul and interfere with Willow's spell...and that's why you want Spike! Don't you see? They cast a spell on you!"

Buffy was shaking her head; her long hair flew out around her.

"No," she kept repeating, "No!"

"NOOO!" Spike shouted. "It's a bloody lie!"

He turned and dashed out the front door.

"Spike!" Buffy shrieked. "Don't- the sun's coming up!"

But the blond vampire was already gone.

Spike raced down the street, heedless of the lightening sky. A spell...she'd been under a spell the whole time!

She didn't fancy him, didn't wnat to be with him, didn't love...

He swallowed something that might have been a sob.

"Now what do we do?" Cordelia asked glumly.

Buffy was weeping in Giles' arms; Wesley was hovering over a distraught Willow; Xander was trying to speak with a hostile Anya.

"Lift the spell," Lindsey suggested.

Willow sat up in determination. "I'll call Tara."

Wesley stepped back from her, his face hardening. "Tara?"

"I...I just need her help," Willow argued unhappily, twisting her fingers together.

Wesley turned his back and strode over to the window, staring out into the dawning day.

Willow hurried to the phone. "There's no answer," she said at last. "But Tara's been sick- she wouldn't go anyplace!"

"Forget it, Will, and do the counter-spell without her," Xander ordered impatiently.

"Go ahead, Willow," Giles instructed. "I will assist you."

The two of them began the ritual...

"Unh," Lindsey picked his head up. "I feel different. I'm not in love with Darla anymore!"

Cordelia's mouth opened in awe. "YOU were in love with Darla?"

"It was the spell." Lindsey glanced uneasily across at the little blonde Slayer, huddled in one corner of the couch.

"But, it's gone now."

"Buffy?" Willow asked anxiously.

"I'm ok, Will." Resolutely, Buffy stood and started for the front door.

"Buff? Where are you going?" Xander demanded.

"To slay a vampire!" Buffy snapped.

"Wait!" Xander shouted.

Anya marched over to him. "I want to talk to you!"

Xander quailed. "Later!" he promised, and took off after Buffy.

Buffy sighed; she emerged from the old crypt feeling very discouraged. Where could he have gone?

She was beginning to be frightened. What if he'd failed to take shelter? She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She refused to accept that! But where else to search?

Suddenly- a thought flickered in her brain. Buffy started running.

Willy's place was almost empty; but Buffy only had eyes for the blond vampire at the bar, his head slumped onto his hands.

"Spike!" she said premptorily.

He didn't move.

"Spike!" she repeated, loudly.

She didn't hear a sound, so intent was she on the unconscious Spike.

Then pain exploded behind her eyes; and the floor came up to meet her.

"Buffy? Buffy!" the voice was very familiar indeed.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Ooh, head hurts."

She was in a small cell under Willy's bar.

"They knocked you out," the voice explained.

"Angel?" Buffy recognized the voice in the next cell. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I think...it was a spell of some sort, but now...it's gone. And I'm myself again."

The ironic applause came from just beyond Angel; and Buffy knew it instantly- she'd heard it before.

"Spike, is that you?"

"Yeah."

It was definitely Spike but his voice was slurred, almost unrecognizable. It took Buffy a moment to realize that he was very very drunk.

Slowly she tried to sit up, but the excruciating pain in her head made her stop, moaning.

"Buffy?" Angel leaned out as far as he could, trying to see her. "You're hurt!"

"You're a fine one to croak about that,peaches! Not twenty-four hours ago you almost killed her!"

"Stop, Spike," Buffy managed. Her head was throbbing so that she felt confused; and their angry words were like needles stabbing through her brain.

But her admonition was like pouring gasoline on a smoldering fire.

"Oh yeah, guess I forgot! Peaches here has his soul again, and he didn't quite kill you, THIS time! You can go back to making googly eyes at each other; only THIS time, Angel- I got there first!"

Buffy said nothing, which infuriated Spike more. "I knew all about the spell! And I was planning to kill you, after I got sick of shagging you!"

"Shut your mouth, Spike," Angel growled angrily. "Buffy, listen! It was a spell, just a spell, that Darla invoked! And you're not responsible for anything that happened because of that, any more than I am! It doesn't matter."

Buffy closed her eyes, unable to deal with anything more. She heard Angel's words through a white haze of misery. Spike didn't care about her, he had only meant to take advantage of the spell.

A love spell....

CRASH!

Darla kicked open the door to Willy's basement. "They're in here," she said to the cloaked figure behind her.

They walked into the room, along with five of Darla's minions.

"Everyone awake? Good!" Darla turned to the big male vampire on her right. "Karl, you may have the Slayer, to do with as you wish."

The vampire's eyes gleamed as he looked at the slumped, dazed Buffy. He started for the cell, but Darla said sharply, "Wait!"

"Leave her alone!" Angel yelled. "Take me instead!"

"Oh, I plan to, my Angelus," Darla hissed.

She turned to the hooded figure. "Restore the love spell," she ordered.

"I can't!" It was a despairing whisper. "The spell was completely destroyed by a powerful witch; it can't be recast."

Buffy frowned, surely she knew that voice?

"Then cast another!" Darla insisted. "The soul-destroying spell that will return him to me."

The figure bowed its head in assent. "But I can't do it here, there's not enough room."

"Upstairs," Darla decided. "Karl, clear out the bar!"

Karl was reluctant. "What about her?" he pointed at Buffy.

"Now!" Darla gave him a blazing look, and he complied.

The other minions unlocked Angel's cell and dragged him away.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Darla asked impatiently. She tugged at the cloaked figure- a gesture that caused the hood to fall.

Buffy's breath caught- Tara!

"I can't think where Tara can be," Willow told Giles worriedly.

Wesley cast a quick glance at her; then averted his eyes.

"Perhaps she's out of town," Giles suggested absently, searching through his weapons chest.

"No, she's not!" Willow argued. "I told you, she's been sick!"

"If she's sick, she's not liable to be much use," Wesley said coldly.

"I'm inclined to agree," said Giles calmly. "The important thing is to find Buffy immediately."

"And Xander," Anya insisted.

"Thought you were mad at him," Cordelia sniffed.

Anya turned such a basilisk stare her way that even Giles noticed.

"Right then, let's be off," he said hastily. "Everyone choose a weapon."

As Wesley reached for one of the taser rifles, Willow reached out to touch his arm.

"Wesley, please...about Tara..."

"I think this isn't the time to discuss it," he said stiffly.

"But I wanted to tell you..."

"Argghhh!" Cordelia screamed and slumped over.

With the smoothness born of long practice, Wesley caught her before she hit the floor.

Her lashes fluttered. "I saw...Angel! I know where they are!"

Buffy made another effort to get to her feet- and this time she succeeded. Grasping the bars of her cell for support, she looked around for a weapon. Nothing!

Spike laughed harshly. "Forget it, Slayer! Can't rescue the bloody nance this time! He'll be Darla's toyboy again."

Buffy knew he was deliberately baiting her. It hurt- but she sensed something else, something beneath the brutality.

Her failure to answer enraged him. "And don't come crying to me when that lout Karl comes to get you, I'll tell him he's welcome! Or do you expect some ruddy great guardian angel to descend from on high?"

There was a resounding crash-

and Xander fell though the ceiling.

"Xand! You ok?" Buffy exclaimed.

"Yeah, Buffster, I'll make it." Xander got to his feet and limped over to her cell door.

"I climbed up the drainpipe to the roof and got into the ceiling."

"Huh!" Spike sneered. "Pity you didn't have enough sense to stay there. That racket will have everybody in here in a tick!"

"He's right," Buffy urged. "Hurry, Xander!"

Xander shoved back the bolt just as the sound of running footsteps was heard. Buffy gestured frantically to Xander, who slipped behind the door.

Karl and two minions exploded into the room- and Buffy sent one spinning into the other.

Xander lunged out and staked one; then struggled with the second while Buffy faced Karl. Normally he wouldn't even make her breathe hard; but she was still dazed and had no weapon. She slowed a fraction; and his hands closed around her tiny waist.

"Slayer," he hissed, " I could kill you right now, break your back!"

Buffy felt herself losing consciousness- then suddenly, the big hands dropped her. Sprawled on the floor, she saw Karl clawing at his neck, where Spike's belt improvised a garotte.

Buffy grabbed the stake Xander had dropped and plunged it into Karl's heart. As he disintegrated, she whirled to finish off the one about to bite Xander.

Xander got slowly up from the floor, brushing himself off. "Let's get out of here!"

"We can't, there's Angel!" Buffy said desperately. In one smooth gesture she unlocked Spike's cell; but the blond merely glared at her.

"Thanks anyway," she told him softly; then ran up the stairs, followed by Xander.

In fornt of the bar was a large circle ringed by candles; Tara stood in the center, opposite a chained Angel. She held a small glowing orb in her hands, chanting the ritual that would finally strip Angel of his soul.

Darla spotted Buffy and Xander, and screamed a warning...five minions attacked.

The back door of Willy's bar buckled, and Buffy saw her friends race in.

Willow was in the lead; she saw Tara and screamed "No!"

Tara glanced up and faltered in her chanting.

"Tara, stop!" Willow shouted. "You can't do this!"

"Go back, Willow! I have to!" Tara cried. Frantically she resumed chanting; while the orb gleamed.

Willow's hands flew up, forming a shield to block the blast of power channeled through the orb. The orb shattered; and Tara, with blood dripping from her lacerated palms, screamed like a banshee.

Sahken though she was, Buffy managed to stake another vampire; but it took all her strength.

Flames from the overturned candles were licking at the bar while Giles worked frantically to free Angel. Anya was down- and Cordelia and Xander were struggling to subdue a hysterical Tara.

Buffy started forward; but a searing pain in her injured head brought her to her knees.

"Going somehwere?" Darla wound the golden hair more tightly around her hand. Buffy cried out in agony while Darla grinned.

"Hurts, hmm? Well, it won't for long!" The wicked blade of her knife glittered in the dimness. "Too bad I have to kill you so soon; I'd have enjoyed torturing you for awhile. Oh well, take it like a man!"

She raised the knife to slash Buffy's throat- and then her eyes widened in shock.

"Angel?"

The fingers holding Buffy's hair went slack, and the Slayer rolled free...

Just as Darla exploded into dust.

Beyond her stood Spike, clutching a stake.

Their eyes met for a long moment; then he disappeared into the surrounding darkness.

After that, events were a blur to Buffy.

She slipped in and out of consciousness on the trip to the hospital; then on the trip back home after the doctor concluded she did not have concussion.

Giles settled her into her bed; but she caught at his wrist. "Is everyone..."

"Fine. Everyone is all right," Giles assured her. "Angel wants to talk with you; but not until morning. Now, you get some sleep."

Gently he placed an ice bag on her aching head. He turned out the light, leaving only a small nightlight to cast a golden glow over the room. Then, he closed her door and went downstairs.

Buffy lay quietly for a few minutes.

Then..."You may as well come out, Spike. I know you're there!"

There was a small scuffling sound as Spike emerged from her closet.

Buffy smiled sickly. "Out of the closet at last?"

Spike strode over to the bed, and stared down at her with burning eyes.

"What?" she said at last, tired of waiting for him to speak.

"I hate you!" he exploded. "You're a little blonde bit of... nothing! I never loved you, never!"

"Will you...stop shouting?" Buffy held her throbbing head.

"Sorry," he said automatically; then began to curse under his breath as he heard himself apologize.

Buffy sighed. "This wasn't a great time for you to get drunk, you know."

"Shut your gob!" he snarled, rubbing his forehead. "You may think your head hurts, but compared to the hangover I've got, it's a bleedin' Sunday school picnic!"

She gave him a long unscrutable look, then patted the bed beside her.

Spike stopped swearing in sheer astonishment.

"Well?" Buffy managed. "Or are you going to stand there all night?"

Like an automaton, he stripped off his clothing, and climbed into bed beside her. He lay still for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling in grim silence.

Then he turned to look at her.

"I hate you," he repeated, in what sounded remarkably like a whimper.

Buffy took off the icebag and plopped it on Spike's head.

"Let's just...go to sleep, now," she mumbled. "Here in this nice, nice bed."

She went quiet; and Spike was almost sure she'd drifted into slumber, when all of a sudden she said, "Spike?"

"Yeah?" he asked eagerly, heart jumping.

"G'night." she snuggled warmly against him.

He waited until her steady breathing told him she was asleep; then brushed his mouth over hers.

"'Night, Buffy," he whispered.

Spike paced restlessly at the foot of the stairs.

"Right, mate," he told himself bravely, "You can do this!"

Above he could hear footsteps, then voices.

"You're sure you're okay, Buffy?" Willow asked. "Because otherwise I won't go."

"I'm fine, Will," Buffy assured her friend. "Say hi to Wesley for me!"

"I'm not going to L.A. to see Wesley." Willow blushed. "Well, not ONLY to see Wesley. I'm going to vsist Tara too."

Buffy was surprised. "Tara?"

Willow sighed. "We still haven't talked. I realize Darla forced Tara to help by threatening to reveal stuff about her brother..."

"David Nabbit," Buffy mused. "He was supposed to be some computer genius, but it turned out he was a pimp with a whole chain of demonic brothels! Lindsey said Wolfram and Hart have been blackmailing him for years!"

"I understand that Tara felt trapped," Willow said somberly. "But I can't forgive her. She could have come to us for help, and instead she decided to work for Darla."

Just then Xander charged down the steps; and Willow picked up the small case she carried.

"I'm ready, Xander."

"Great," he replied happily. "Time to hit the road; Cordy said she's got us all tickets to her play tonight."

"What?" Willow looked at him in alarm. "All of us? Uh...I mean, that's great!"

"Yeah, she's doing Waiting for Godot."

"Uh, there's no women in the cast," Willow objected.

"There is in this version," Xander was blissfully oblivious to the look of mounting horror on the redhead's face. "It's an all-female cast, in tutus! It's a musical!"

Ignoring Willow's protests, Xander hauled her out the door.

Spike cleared his throat, making Buffy give a surprised little squeak. She whirled to face him, and their eyes met.

"So what happened to demon girl?" he asked at last.

"Anya? She's helping Lindsey hunt for an apartment. He's decided he'd better stay and practice law here in Sunnydale, or Wolfram and Hart are liable to kill him."

"They don't have a good track record so far," Spike pointed out.

"Lucky for us. Anyway, at least Lindsey is distracting her from what's going on with Xander and Cordelia. "

Spike shifted uneasily. "How come you're not off to L.A. for the weekend, with the rest?"

Buffy's eyes twinkled. "I didn't want to see Waiting for Godot."

He took a deep unneeded breath. "What about The X-Men?"

Her luscious pink mouth quirked at him. "What are we waiting for?"

Deliberately she linked their arms, sliding her hand down into the pocket of his duster.

"Uh, pet?" Spike managed.

"Hmmm?"

"How much...was the bloody spell, and how much...wasn't? I want to know; I...need to know."

She gave him a sidelong glance from under her long lashes. "I guess we'll never be sure. But, you know what I think?"

Wordlessly he shook his head.

Buffy giggled. "I think....that Tara must be a pretty pathetic witch! Because, I don't feel a bit different than I did before Willow destroyed the spell!"

With a muffled groan he lifted her off her feet, holding her close against his chest.

Buffy sighed happily, and kissed him. "We'll miss the X-Men," she reminded.

"Sod the X-Men," Spike growled.

"No way! You promised to take me to the movies, and we're going," Buffy tried to sound severe.

Spike sighed, and cast a longing look up the stairs. Followed by a pleading one at the Slayer.

He looked so appealing and so needy that Buffy melted.

"Oh, fine," she caught his hand and pulled him toward the steps.

"I guess we COULD always catch a later show!"