Spike's Quest

by AngelsLame

So, Buffy got to go on a quest, Right? This is my take on Spike's journey. Based another story, but Spuffy style.

SPIKE'S QUEST

(Do I still need to say spoilers? This takes place sometime in S6...you'll figure it out.)

---

"Uumph! Christ! Lay off, mate!"

"I am NOT," slug, "your," punch, "mate!"

"Damn it, Angel, I haven't hit you yet, but I swear, I still can, and I will!"

"You were never able to beat me before, and you never will be." Punch. "How dare you say you love her!"

"'sn't like she belongs to you. She's available. Ugh!"

"You don't deserve her. Never have. Never will!"

With one final smash to Spike's face, Angel laid him out. The larger man stood over his blonde "grandchilde" for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. "Get up!" he shouted. "Fight like a man." But Spike was out cold, a different kind of cold than usual. Angel was frustrated and kicked the lifeless body once before he turned and walked away into the night muttering to himself about claims and rights and women.

Spike's body lay still in the dark alley.

A rat approached him, a large brown rat, looking for something to eat. It sniffed all around the duster which spread out underneath the vampire then cautiously the large gray animal stepped up onto the coat, then onto Spike himself. The man remained unconscious. The rat grew braver and began to crawl up the body until creature and creature were nose to nose. The rat wiggled its whiskers.

With a grin and although Spike's eyes were still shut, he swept a pale hand across his chiseled face. "That tickles, Buffy. Cut it out."

The rat stepped back onto Spike's chest and sat down on its haunches. Washing its face and waiting.

Spike's eyes flew open as he remembered that he was in the middle of a fight. Then he saw the rat and he screamed, scurrying backwards until he was up against the garbage cans. When Spike moved, the rat jumped down to the street, but instead of running away, it sat still and looked back at the man as if it were amused.

Quickly, Spike realized what he'd done. He looked around to make sure that he was alone, then stood up and brushed off his clothes. "Bloody Hell. Bad ass vampires don't scream like girls 'cause of some ol' sewer rat!" he muttered as he tried to regain his dignity. The rat stared up at him with round black eyes. Spike met his eyes for a second then looked up and down the alley again. "So, did that sire of mine make tracks, mate?" he asked, rubbing his aching jaw. The rat looked around the alley too, silently then blinked. Spike smiled. This rat had character.

"Well then I best be off m'self," Spike said. Then he rubbed his jaw. "Damn. How'll I explain away this one?" He sighed and leaned up against the brick wall of the alley. "Maybe he's right. Maybe I should just leave; give up on her and head outta town. Not like she'd care anyway. Probably be the best for us both." He looked up, surprised to find that he was still talking to an overgrown mouse. "Like you give a…, oh Hell." He began to stride down the alley.

The rat followed. Spike stopped. So did the rat. "Now, listen here. You go home. Your home. I've got no patience for a pet." The rat sat still staring up at Spike…who stared back, deciding. "Oh, bugger it. C'mon then, if you insist." Spike laid a pale hand on the ground and the rat ran confidently onto his palm, then nosed its way through Spike's duster sleeve, climbed up his arm and finally peeked out again at his neck. Spike laughed at the antic in spite of himself then he cocked an eyebrow at the rodent, "Now, if you're going to be hangin' around me, there's things you should know…"

Spike pulled his duster closer to him as raindrops began to fall and he walked home. Along the way he shared secrets with his pet about how Dawn would probably want to hold him, how the kittens in the crypt weren't scary, they were just for poker night and how when the bedroom was otherwise occupied, the rat would have to make itself scarce. "Don't think the Slayer takes too kindly to rodents…saw her atop a chair once 'cause of a teeny li'l mouse. You'd probably send her through the roof." With a sly smirk he added, "But don't. Got it? That's my job."

As they walked off into the dark, Spike asked, "Well, mate, what'll I call you? How 'bout…Bob?"

---

PART 2

"…making sure you have taped your windows and all loose items are secured. Again, a severe thunderstorm watch has been issued for all of central California, centering on the Sunnydale area."

"Great," sighed Buffy. "Just wonderful."

"Buffy, I don't believe these are actual storms, there seems to be something unusual about their structure." Willow was sitting at her laptop, studying the latest weather maps. "Look," she gestured to Buffy to come look over her shoulder, "This front came up way too quickly…"

"Uh, huh," Buffy answered absently. Then she looked up at her friend quickly. "Really? A mystery? Maybe there's something happening that I should do something about?"

"Well, yeah. I kinda figured that's why I was all with the net…"

"I should go see…um…see what's up." Buffy stood up and headed for her coat.

"I don't know, Buffy, I think we should know a little more before you just go dashing out into this weather. Winds are gusting up to 90 miles an hour and its rained 4 inches in the last half hour. They're forecasting hail." Buffy slumped down into a chair. She wanted to get out of there. She did not want to be cramped up in the house with sad, break-up Willow and grumpy, klepty Dawn. "Now," Willow continued, "let's see what we can find through the satellites at…."

Suddenly the back door in the kitchen slammed open and Spike threw himself into the room. He was drenched and he lost his footing on the now slick tiles, crashing to the floor. "Sod it all."

Buffy jumped up from her chair and made her way toward the vampire, "Spike!" she shouted above the slamming door and yowling of the wind. "What are you… and you're dripping all over the kitchen floor! Now I'll have to…no, YOU'LL have to mop up!" She folded her arms and stood in front of him, her face a mixture of anger and amusement.

"Sorry, luv." He was so wet. His hair was disheveled, his clothes clung to him and his Docs squished as he got to his feet.

Buffy looked at him again and sighed, "I'll get you some towels."

Dawn walked into the kitchen. "Spike."

"Niblet."

Dawn checked to make sure that Buffy had left the room, "No points for messing up the kitchen."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I know." He shook his head and water sprayed out around him. Dawn yelped as big drops caught her in the face. Spike interrupted his own laughter. "Oh, Hell. I hope he's all right."

"Who?" Dawn asked, curious.

Checking inside his coat, Spike breathed a sigh of relief, saying, "C'mere, li'l bit. Got somethin' to show you." Dawn inched closer. "Can't tell big sis though. I'm in it deep enough already." Spike opened his coat to show Dawn a dry and sleeping Bob.

"Oh!" Dawn whispered. "Cool! Can I…"

"shhh…," Spike warned as he covered Bob. "So I thought I'd come here, but I didn't account for the stor…."

Buffy walked back into the room and threw him two dry, but mismatched towels. "Guess you can use these. We can always burn them later, if we need to." She looked at Dawn and Spike who were clearly sharing some kind of secret. Silence. She let it go. "When you're dry, the mop is over there." She pointed to the corner of the room then stalked out, convinced there had to be somewhere better than here and now.

Dawn rolled her eyes in apology for Buffy's attitude and Spike caught the towels deftly in one hand so as to not drop Bob in the process. "Can I hold him?" Dawn begged.

"Well, I just found…uh, got him, I don't know how he'll take being handled…," but Dawn had taken the creature from Spike's hands and was holding him close already.

She held him up and looked into the rat's now open, bright eyes. "He's so cute! Is he smart? He looks smart," she crooned and leaned closer. "A little smelly though," her nose crinkled and Spike laughed.

The phone rang. "I've got it," Buffy called from the other room.

"Oooh." Dawn continued, "I think there's an old hamster cage in the basement. It might be a little small for… What is his name?"

"Bob."

Dawn acknowledged the name with the same nose crinkle as the rat's smell. "Bob?"

"What's wrong with that? 's a perfectly good name."

"For a rat?" Dawn quipped. "Anyway, let me get that cage so we can keep him out of harm's way."

"You mean out of Buffy's way."

"Yeah," Dawn grinned back as she handed Bob back to Spike and headed into the basement.

Buffy came back into the kitchen just as the rat found its way into Spike's pocket. "That was Giles. He heard about the storm all the way in England and was just calling to make sure we were all safe and warm and dry. He's talking to Willow now about charts and graphs and…. Hey, where's Dawn? And, by the way, what are you two hiding from me?" Spike shuffled his feet and started to answer when, mercifully, the doorbell rang. "Now what?" Buffy asked, dismissing Spike and walking to the front of the house. Spike didn't follow, waiting for Dawn to come back with Bob's new home. Softly, he whispered to himself, "Someday Buffy, you'll look at me and see the man, not the monster. I swear it."

Buffy flung open the door and standing in front of her were Anya and Xander. Their raincoats dripped onto the welcome mat, an inside-out umbrella at their feet. "Come in guys! What were you doing out in this?" Buffy asked as she pulled them in and pushed against the now raging wind to secure the door again.

Anya walked into the room, muttering, "I don't know why we had to stop here. I don't even know why anyone would want to live here. Not when it's swarming with…those things. Infested. That's what it is. Horrible little hoppy things." She was shaking visibly.

"Xander," Buffy pulled him aside nervously. "What's up with Anya? She looks like she's seen a ghost."

"No, Buffy. No ghost." He shook his head sadly. "Just that…well, we were out looking at wedding stuff when the storm hit. Your place was on the way home and so we pulled in. There was a…rabbit hiding from the storm under the bushes out front and she saw it. You know how she is about…them."

"Oh," Buffy answered, nodding and trying not to smile.

"Ahn, hon, it was harmless," Xander tried to calm his fiancée.

"Harmless?! Why don't any of you get it? Rabbits are not harmless they're…conspiratorial."

"Conspiratorial, sweetie? They're cute, fluffy…."

"Sure, that's what they want you to think. Devious, nasty little…"

"Okay," Willow offered from the door to the other room, and determined to change the subject. "How's about we all play a game? I talked to Giles and it looks like these storms aren't going anywhere soon, and nothing, good or evil can go out in them, so we're stuck here. How about Scrabble?"

"Scrabble? What's that?" Spike asked from the doorway.

Dawn was behind him turning out the lights in the kitchen but she answered the question, "Boring board game. You get some tiles with letters on them and you spell words."

"Pffft. Count me out then."

"Afraid?" Buffy taunted.

"Slayer, I can beat you with one dictionary tied behind my back," Spike answered. "It could be fun, after all, a friendly little competition."

"Oh, yeah, a poet. I forgot," Buffy taunted too quickly.

"A poet?" Xander laughed. "An honest to God poet? Is that what you were?" He fell on the couch, cackling.

Spike rolled his eyes at Buffy. "Thanks a lot, pet."

Buffy shrugged off Xander's laughter and looked questioningly at Spike, "So?"

"You're on."

Dawn cleared the coffee table and Willow brought the game box into the room. They laid out the board and Willow took charge of the bag of tiles. "Everybody pick one. Closest one to the beginning of the alphabet makes the first word."

Buffy reached into the bag first and turned over a tile on the board. "Ha! Beat that, bloodsucker. A "D"!"

"Xander are you and Anya a team?"

"Honey? What do you say? Can we beat these guys?"

Anya, who still would not look at them, shrugged and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"All righty then, we're in." Xander answered. He reached into the bag. "Damn, an "N"."

"You're next Spike."

"Okay, Red." He reached into the tile bag and pulled out a tile. He smiled and slid the tile across the board to Buffy. "An "A" pet. Looks like I start."

"Wait. I get to pick too," Willow reminded him. "Oh, poop, just an 'E'. Okay, you go first, Spike. Now pick out six more tiles and put all seven on this wooden stand. Your first word has to run vertically or horizontally through the star in the middle and if you use all seven letters you get an extra 50 points."

Spike raised an eyebrow. He was much more interested in winning than he wanted the others to know. He wanted so much to show Buffy that he was more than evil undead. Setting up his tiles he sat in silence, staring at them.

"The rest of us can get our tiles now, too," Willow offered and they each set up their boards.

They all sat I silence for five minutes before anyone said anything. Then it was Anya, "Aren't we supposed to be playing? I mean, taking turns? Or are we supposed to all be staring at our tiles like Spike is?"

"Got it!" called Spike from his place at the table. "Extra points for using all the letters, huh? Well, then. V-A-M-P…"

Buffy rolled her eyes as Spike placed his tiles on the board.

Xander, who had been arranging the tiles on their stand, chuckled. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Anya questioned immediately, staring down at their tiles. Then she screamed. "'Bunnies'?! There are millions of words and you…. You think this is funny?" she turned on a grinning Spike. And although he quickly lost his smile and shook his head, his blue eyes still twinkled with amusement.

"It's just that bunnies, usually, don't represent any threat to people. No real danger there." Willow tried to explain. "So I guess we just don't understand why you feel the way you do."

"No real danger, Wil, unless you're searching for the Holy Grail." Xander chimed in. Willow threw him a warning glance…one that said "We almost had you out of this you idiot." But he didn't see it. "Well that's no ordinary rabbit," Xander quoted. "That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on. That rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide, it's a killer!" Xander laughed at the thought of the Python team on screen playing out this scene. His laughter grew louder and Anya's temper grew hotter as he continued, "Oh, yeah?! What's he do, nibble your bum? I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't it? No, that rabbit's dynamite!" The other scoobies, who had often enjoyed this movie with Xander over the years began to quote and laugh along, but Anya was on her feet now, decidedly NOT laughing.

"Some things are just NOT funny Xander Harris. When will you understand that?" Anya picked up her dilapidated umbrella and headed for the door. "I can't believe you're all encouraging him."

"Anya, you can't go out there," Willow began.

"Wait," Buffy called.

But it was too late. Anya had a head start on them all. Spike, however, had the angle on her, and with vampiric speed, got to the door at the same time as the ex-demon. "Don't think they want you to go," he explained as he leaned on the door, blocking her way.

Anya gave him a defiant stare then sighed, "Oh, all right." Spike nodded, gave her a stern look and began to walk back towards the game. Before he could realize he'd been deceived, Anya unlatched the door and with the combination of her pull and the hurricane raging outside, the heavy wooden door on the front of the Summer's home burst open.

Anya was immediately drenched with the horizontal rain that now flew inside, as was Xander who had been following her. They both lost their footing and fell to the floor. The Scrabble board flew into the air, floor lamps toppled, cushions rose and curtains tore at their rods. The force of the blow had ripped open the door which now hung, flapping wildly on its hinges. Everyone immediately began to crawl toward the entry to re-secure the area. It took all of them to get the door back in place.

"Good solid doors on these old houses. Keep all sorts of weather out as long as they're shut." Xander was explaining to Anya as they accessed their dampened condition.

"Spike!" Dawn screamed.

---

PART 3

Spike woke up with a headache. He sat up and rubbed his head. "Damn. What happened? Oh, yeah, the storm, the door…." Outside was dark and a soft breeze rustled the leaves on the tree outside Buffy's room. "Buffy's room?" he thought to himself. "Always wanted to sleep here. Not so much alone," he grinned. "Everyone else must be sleeping. I wonder what time it is." He picked up the alarm clock on her nightstand. "I should go on home."

He picked up his duster, which had been thrown across the end of the bed and put it on. "Bloody pain in the head. I should have some aspirin." He made his way across the hall into the bathroom and helped himself to two pills…no water.

He walked back into the hallway. Something wasn't right. He stood still, waiting for it to come to him. "Nothing," he thought, "Nothing. That's it. I don't sense anyone. I can't hear 'em breathing, no heartbeats, no storm. Nothing." He began to open doors in the hallway, the wiccan's room, empty. Dawn's room, empty. Guest room, the same. He was alone.

"Well, maybe they're all off researchin' somethin' at the Magic Box." He took the stairs three at a time and pulled open the front door.

It was as if the dynamic of the world had shifted. The house didn't appear to be on Rovello Drive anymore. From the porch where he stood, Spike no longer saw the tree with his well worn outpost below Buffy's window, the bushes, the sidewalk. The world he'd known disappeared at the bottom of the Summers' front steps. The neighbor's houses were gone and replaced with small, brick residences, huddled close together along a dark, winding lane.

And then, suddenly, there was cheering. Spike stepped backwards, into the house, startled. The cheering got louder and someone came forward. "Welcome warrior!" Spike hesitated, then still not understanding, but sensing nothing wrong, grasped the small man's outstretched hand and was greeted with a hearty handshake. "I am the mayor here. Welcome to Munchkinland."

"Munchkinland?" Spike laughed. "Like in The Wizard of Oz?"

"Well," returned the man in a deep, shaky, voice, "this is Oz and we do have a wizard. You've probably heard of him. He's very powerful."

"No, there's this book…," but Spike was interrupted when three miniature motorcycles pulled up in front of Buffy's house. Their noise rumbled deeply into the center of his being. "Hogs," he thought approvingly.

"We represent the local gang and we're here to say 'thanks' for doin' in Kerke."

"Kerke?" Spike shouted over the noise their engines emitted as they drove away.

"Kerke," the older man at his side confirmed.

Spike was now so confused, all he wanted to do was go back inside the house, take more aspirin and wish for this to be gone. Suddenly, up the street he saw two familiar figures. A short, redheaded woman arm in arm with a taller blonde woman. They each looked beautiful and were obviously revered by the munchkins as they were greeted with kindly welcomes by each of the small people now emerging from their homes. Even the "biker dude-ettes" stepped back.

"Red? Tara?" Spike asked tentatively.

The two travelers looked at each other then back at Spike. They spoke in turns, "No. You must be confused." "We're Rhonda and Wanda, witches in this land." "You've probably had a long trip."

"Trip?"

"Yes, where is it you came from?"

"Same place as…," Spike began. Then he realized that that probably wasn't quite true. "Sunnyhe…I mean Sunnydale, California."

"Sunny-dale?" "It sounds delightful."

Spike began to argue, but just then he felt a movement in his pocket. "Bob?" He reached into his duster and came up with the rat. Much to his surprise, each of the members of his now numerous audience, greeted the rat with 'Ooohs' and 'Ahhs', no fear or disgust.

"Aww, you've brought a friend with you," the witches acknowledged. "How wonderful." "What are your names?"

"Oh, me? I'm Spike. William to some. And this is Bob."

"Welcome to you both, Spike and Bob. You have an invitation to stay in Munchkinland as long as you want. Seeing that you've killed Kerke and all," the mayor piped up again.

"Who's this Kerke guy anyway?" Spike asked.

"More exactly, who was he." The mayor added. "Kerke was a nasty ogre. He terrorized our small community morning, noon and night. Attacked our families, ate our children. You know, the whole demon bit. But you've killed him and we're very grateful."

"But I didn't do anything."

The witches walked around the side of the house and called him to follow. There he saw two claws protruding from under the house. They were still twitching, but something else was happening. They were becoming human looking. The scales fell away, replaced by rough, hairy skin which began to turn to dust as they watched. A glint of metal caught Spike's eye.

"The Ring of Amara," the witches whispered to each other.

Spike's ears perked up, "What did you say?"

The witches spoke to each other, for the first time. "What do you think?" "Do you suppose?" "He might be the one." "It's not the time." "If not now, then when?"

"What?" Spike asked.

"Well, Kerke certainly doesn't need it." "He only ever abused the privilege anyway." "What's the harm in trying?"

"What are you two bits gettin' on about?" Spike was frantically trying to hear their whispers. "There was a Ring of Amara where I come from. Does that ring have the same powers?"

The two women nodded to each other, "Okay," they were talking in turn again. "Spike, is it?" He nodded in affirmation. "Vampire, right?" Another nod. "It seems that your house has landed on Kerke the Ogre." "As the mayor explained, this demon that has been harassing their small community for the last 50 years." "They are obviously glad that you have done this. However, Munchkins aren't ones to be appreciative for long so we'd suggest you head out."

"Leave? To where?"

"Anywhere you wish."

"But I don't know where I am. How can I know where I want to be?"

"Look into your heart, vampire. What do you want?"

Spike hesitated, looking at the gentle, familiar faces of the two witches and into the compassionate eyes that returned his gaze. Softly he answered, "I want it to stop hurting."

"More specific?" "Please?"

Spike looked away thoughtfully for a moment. "I want to stop loving her…Buffy. I don't want to want her anymore. I want the pain to stop."

They read assent in his silence. "We're pretty powerful, Spike, but even the two of us can't grant that wish." "It's a bit beyond us."

To each other again, they began to question, "Do you think he could?" "Do you think he would?" "Should we suggest?" "Would he be willing?" Then together they nodded, "Yes." "Spike, here, take this." And the witches pulled the Ring of Amara from the quickly disintegrating claws. "We give you this, the Ring of Amara, to return to its rightful owner, the wizard." "The safety it affords you on your journey is the Munchkins' gift to you in gratitude and our gift to hasten your departure."

"Thanks," Spike said, slipping the ring onto the only finger it would fit, his thumb. "Again, departure to where?"

"To Oz." "To the Wizard." "To get your wish."

"To get my what?"

"Your wish." "If you want to stop loving Buffy," "You must go to Oz."

"How do I get there?" Spike asked with new determination.

"That way." "Down the Long, Scary Path."

"The Long, Scary Path?"

"The Long, Scary Path. It begins here."

Spike looked down and saw that there was a road below his feet. A black, asphalt road that lead as far away as his eye could see.

"Got it." He took another look at the Ring of Amara on his thumb, shook his duster into place, making sure that Bob was safely tucked into his pocket again, and started out.

Without warning, the earth began to rumble beneath his feet. The munchkins began to scream and run towards their homes. Spike held his ground. Whatever this is wasn't going to frighten him away from his only chance to be free of Buffy. "What th'?"

Suddenly, the dark, brooding figure of Angel appeared in front of Spike in a puff of smoke.

"Angel?" Spike asked, surprised.

"Not hardly," laughed the newcomer evilly. "My name is Derke. As in Kerke's brother, imbecile. You will find that I am not so easily defeated." Derke lunged at Spike who deftly dodged the move.

"Stop!" the witches commanded and Derke immediately lay helpless on the ground. "He's right, Kerke was an idiot, but Derke is meaner and craftier." "We can control him only briefly." "He's after the ring."

"Remind me to thank you for not telling me that the Ring came with a curse," Spike remarked as Derke lay snarling at his feet.

"It's supposed to be a hero's reward, but it was stolen and has been lost to the Wizard for many years now." "Once it's back home with him in the Emerald City, he'll know how to make it safe again."

"We'll hold him as long as we can." "You'd better…"

"Outta here," Spike called out already jogging in the direction of Oz.

---

PART 4

The night was just beginning to fade as Spike sat on a large rock by the side of the path with his boots off. He was pouring small rocks out of one boot in his hand. "Hell," he said to Bob, who was quietly washing his whiskers beside him. "Who'd've thought that we'd have t' walk this far? Don't look at me like that. Why didn't you ask?" He had walked all night through the darkness, but now in the soft promise of dawn, he was beginning to see the country around him. It appeared to be the skeleton of what had once been a lush, forested land. Dead tree trunks reached gnarled fingers angrily into the sky, dry grasses waved stiffly in the already hot wind, fields once rich with top soil lay cracked and broken. Spike put his boots back on and watched for several minutes as the sky lightened.

"Well, Bob, this is about my bedtime, usually." He looked down at the Ring of Amara and spun it once around his thumb. "No shelter in sight. Hope this thing works." As he said this, the first rays of sunlight came over the horizon and shimmered over his pale brow. Spike let his eyes slip shut and waited. No burning, no smoking, no tingling even. The Ring was protecting him from harm. Instead of being turned to dust, Spike felt a surge of power through his veins, remembered power from times past and specifically from when he wore another Ring of this kind. That time he had wanted nothing more than to defeat Buffy, to pull the Slayer her down off her high-horse and drink her blood and the Ring had promised him that. Suddenly, Spike realized that in reliving the memory, he had vamped unwittingly, that he had wanted to taste human blood again, yet again, there had been no pain. He wondered if the Ring's power stretched into his brain and overrode the signals from his chip. "Yes!" he shouted. "I'm back!" But he got no further.

As soon as he stood up and opened his eyes, he realized that "he" would, in fact, never be back. That he was no longer the monster he had been. He'd said it before, but only for Buffy's benefit. He hadn't really believed it…that he was no longer a monster, but here, he knew it. Sure, he had felt the desire for blood, but unlike his previous self, he now understood that the fulfillment of that lust would be transitory, that his need for drink was intrinsically less important to him than the life he'd have taken. This self-acknowledgement sat him back down on the rock next to Bob, stunned. If he were no longer a monster, then what had he become? If he were no longer evil, then how much more could he be? He wiped his misted eyes. "What's become of me?" he asked out loud.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sunrise again. Colors more vivid than any he could recall, played on the edges of the golden ball; pink, orange, yellow, lavender, blue. And there was warmth. He raised his palms toward the sun and basked in the feeling. Long lost feelings stirred within him and he suddenly regretted that the last Ring had been all about revenge and not recapturing some of his own human memories. As he sat now, he was awash with them, holidays at the beach, splashing gaily at the seashore with countless cousins, picnics in the park with his parents, laughter, family. Again, his heart soared, but this time with a new emotion. Sunshine, self-respect and self-knowledge, were all things which had alluded him for the past 120 years. But somehow, on this rock in the desolate countryside of Oz, they were his and he was…happy.

"Wha'cha doin'?" came a voice from nowhere.

Spike nearly fell off the rock. He hadn't been aware of anyone approaching, he had been so thoroughly enraptured. "Bloody Hell," was his trademark response. Then he heard it. The voice was laughing. Not the kind of laughter he was enjoying in his reverie, but derisive, ridiculing, mean. He stood to face his assailant but was taken aback. "You!?"

"What about me? I'm great. I'm fine. You're the one falling down!" and the laughter continued.

"Xander?"

"Xander? What is that?"

"Kind of name for a wanker like you."

Then the idiot was laughing again. "You sound funny! 'Wanker', 'Xander'. Got any more like that?"

Spike looked him up and down. His clothes were loud and baggy, his hair was limp and uncombed. His eyes a little too wide open. He'd had enough already. "Listen, you blighter…"

"Another one! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Stop that now," Spike growled. Something in how he said it made the other man stop laughing. His noises slowed to a quiet giggle. "Better. Now, tell me who you are before I do something I won't regret."

"Me? I'm…well, I'm…shoot. Huh. I always forget this part. Oh! Oh! I know. I'm Jester. I laugh. I make other people laugh. Always on stage, you know!" He did a pirouette and bowed in Spike's direction.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why make 'em laugh?"

"Hmmm. Reckon that's cuz I just looooooove 'em," Jester answered, snuggling up to Spike.

"Back off, whelp," he warned, pushing him away.

Jester came back for more. "Hey, what's your name, anyway?

"Spike."

"Spike? What a funny name! Hey, Spike, why did the zombie cross the road?"

Spike refused to answer.

"Tough crowd. Well, the answer is, drum roll please…To get to the other died! Get it? DIED!?"

Now lost in hysterics of his own making, Jester rolled on the ground, doubled over and arms hugging his aching sides. Spike shook his head. It was just too pathetic. "Okay, listen, junior. I'm going to see this wizard guy. Supposed to grant me a wish. Maybe he can give you a sense of humor. You can go with me if you want, but there's no guarantees that I won't decide to kill you along the way."

Jester sniffed and wiped away his tears of laughter. Taking a cleansing breath, he said, "I don't think I need a sense of humor, though. I mean, I'm pretty funny at parties, always ready with a quip, a clever turn of phrase. No problem there. But in between audiences, which happens a lot around here, I think a lot. And there is one thing I do want."

"What?"

"I want," and he couldn't not laugh anymore. Giggles broke out into hysterics. Finally he was able to calm down again. "I want…," and then he paused, "…to be a man."

"A man? You?"

"Yes. I want to think serious thoughts and do important things. Live a full life and share it with someone. Ridiculous, huh? That I could do that? Makes you want to laugh, doesn't it?" Jester let go of a few quiet chuckles and sighed.

Spike shook his head. Maybe they had more in common than he first thought. "Well, maybe I won't kill you after all. Maybe Derke will."

"Derke?!" Jester shrieked, jumping up and waiving his arms wildly.

"Yep, bugger's after me," Spike threw out, then he stood up and began to walk down the road. After a few paces, he looked back, "Comin' then, Jester?"

Jester, dropped his arms, thought a moment and then, sprang with a laugh to follow the blonde vampire through the bleak landscape of early morning Oz. "Hey, stop me if you've heard this one…," he began.

---

PART 5

"…so this horse walks into a bar and the bartender says…," they'd been on the road for what seemed like, to Spike, years, but he and Jester had only traveled a few hours when they decided to stop for something to eat. The road they were taking lead them through many small towns, each had its own characteristics but the one they now found themselves in seemed to be on the friendly side of things. In fact, the sign outside their village limits read "Machinista, A Friendly Town." Jester and Spike entered and looked over the diner.

"Seems okay to me," Spike pronounced.

"Nothing the two of us can't handle," Jester agreed, throwing an arm over Spike's shoulders.

"Hey!" Spike shrugged the arm off and they walked up to the door. A large-lettered sign in the window read, "A Jester-Free Environment." "Seems they've heard of you, mate," Spike smiled.

"I'm sorry. It's okay, I'll just wait out here," Jester indicated a bench to one side of the doorway.

"Like Hell," Spike surprised himself with his reaction to Jester's slight. "C'mon," Spike commanded as he held the door open.

Jester pointed to himself and mouthed, "Me?" silently.

Spike nodded and then tilted his head to indicate that Jester'd better move it before he changed his mind.

They walked into the entryway of the small diner and were greeted with scornful looks from the patrons. But they could smell the good food and their stomachs were rumbling already. Spike poured on the charm and some more of that effective English accent, "Gotta table for me and him, luv?" Spike leaned on the counter by the cash register, acting like he owned it and the hostess too.

"Well, sir," she paused, "Um, you see…we could seat you," the young girl was obviously new at her job and nervous. Her uniform was crisp and the ends of the bandanna she used as a headband stuck jauntily up into the air.

"Damn," Spike thought, "She could be Dawn's twin." Out loud he replied, "Oh, c'mon pet. Be a doll an' let us both in. Been walkin' a long time an' we're famished."

"Er, um…" Spike leaned closer and purred. She stepped back, "All right."

Jester jumped up and down, "Yeah! Food, here we come!"

"Stop it you idiot. We're not in yet," Spike hissed.

"This way, please," the hostess picked up menus and indicated a table in an out of the way corner. "Keep him in line, okay? I don't want to lose my job."

"You bet, Niblet," Spike was surprised how easily Dawn's nickname had slipped out. "Thanks."

She set the menus down on the table as they slid into their chairs then she hesitated. "You've been walking all day? Where are you from?"

"I'm from just down the road," Jester replied. "Hey do you know why the zombie crossed the road?"

"Never mind him, can't help himself. I'm not from 'round here. Just picked him up along the way to the Emerald City. How far do we still have to go?"

"Oh, that's a long way still. Are you going to see the wizard?" the young girl's eyes sparkled.

"Yep. Hopin' he'll help us out a bit."

"Yua-ha, I want to be a man," Jester said too loudly.

"Long shot," Spike joked with the hostess, who returned his comment with a nervous laugh. "Everybody has somethin' they want. Don't they…," and then Spike noticed her name tag, "…Botty?"

She looked around nervously then shuffled her feet and nodded. Softly she replied, "I suppose."

Spike waited expectantly. He wasn't sure why he'd started this conversation. Probably just because he missed Dawn and here was this girl that reminded him so much of…someone he used to know. "Well?" he encouraged.

"I want…. Oh, this is ridiculous, I have work to do and this is just futile." He waited. With the air of giving in she answered, "I want a family. You know? People to care about me. People I care about. I've been on my own since I was manufactured, and…well, look around you. This isn't exactly Warmth Central."

Glancing around the restaurant, Spike noticed things he hadn't before; the patrons were all a little rough and worn looking, the staff looked tired and put out. And, it looked like the trend wasn't going to change any time soon. He looked back at Botty. "Manufactured?"

"Sure, see?" and she pulled up the sleeve of her sweater to reveal a metal pad engraved with serial number, name, model number…and Manufacturer; Ozland Robot Works. "All of us here are robots. Didn't you know that?"

Spike was taken aback but he managed a whistle.

"Oh, you didn't."

"Well, my only other experiences with robots were a little less, shall we say, public. And less emotional."

"Yes, well, the robots at ORW have had Imbedded Emotion for the last decade. We're pretty complicated now."

"So I see." Spike took a few moments to understand it. Then he responded, "So, do you want to walk with us to Oz, then li'l bit?"

"Really?!" Bot asked, program set on disbelief.

"Yeah, just as soon as we've had a bite to eat."

"Sure, of course. I'll get your waitress to come over. Stick to the right side of the menu. Left side is ORW rations. I'll get my things together. Wow! I can't believe it! I'm going to Oz!"

"She coming with us?" Jester asked.

"Yep. Looks that way."

"Good. She'll be useful and she'll know stuff about Oz. We can use her help."

"And she wants to come."

"Yeah, that too."

A few minutes later they were served with their meals, a bologna sandwich and a rare burger. Halfway through his sandwich, Jester started to laugh. It was small at first but soon grew out of control. "Shhh, Jester! What 're you laughin' at? Wanna get us thrown out? Stop laughing you fool!"

"S—S—Sorry," Jester spit out between guffaws. "I just can't help myself. I laugh when I'm happy and having food in my stomach is making me happy."

"Well think about something sad then. Like plague, death…anything," Spike hissed. Botty was looking at them from her station by the counter. She shook her head and held a finger to her lips. Spike shrugged back to her. He couldn't help that Jester had gone off the deep end. Suddenly Spike saw another man approaching their table.

"What seems to be the problem here?" the burly man asked.

"Huh? No problem, just got a little bread stuck in his craw. Does it all the time."

"No…," the man drew out. "Sounds like laughter to me. Jester laughter."

Jester, who had almost gotten under control, lost it again. "Jester laughter!" he imitated the man in a ridiculously low voice. Then he giggled to himself and repeated "Jester laughter."

"Okay, that's it. Both of you are outta here!" The manager picked them both up by the scruff of their necks and walked them to the front door. Spike managed to grab his burger as he struggled but the manager was a robot and soon held them at the door. "No Jesters are welcome in my joint, and no friends of Jesters, neither." At that, Spike and Jester found themselves out in the street.

"No Jesters or friends of Jesters," Jester mocked again.

Spike stood up and dusted himself off, shaking his head all the while. "Why can't you just shut your gob?!"

"Hey! Don't forget about me!" a voice called out behind him. "I'm coming too, remember?"

Spike pulled the rest of his sandwich out of one of his pockets. "Not goin' t' let this go t' waste," and he took a bite. Then he broke off a corner and dropped it into another pocket for Bob. Next he began to walk down the road they'd left only minutes before. Jester and Botty looked at each other and shrugged, then went in the same direction.

---

PART 6

Spike kept following the path, unwavering from his desire to no longer be in love. Since it was unnecessary for him to breathe, he never tired. Botty, of course, ran on fuel, but Jester kept falling behind. "C'mon!" he called back when he started up another hill, well ahead of them again. He looked ahead of him on the path. The hills had been getting steeper for the last few miles and now they were entering a thick tangle of trees, which grew up and over and through their path, threatening injury with abundant three-inch thorns. "Great," he thought.

Behind him, Botty walked downhill with Jester, encouraging him to keep up. "He'll leave us if we don't hurry," she whispered. "He'll go on without us and we'll be left here." She looked ahead at the same forest Spike contemplated. They'd been walking for hours and with night setting in her emotion chip was screaming "fear". She'd suppressed her anxiety so far, concentrating on helping Jester.

"I'm trying," Jester whined, his breath coming out in puffs of steam in the cold that had taken the place of the day's heat. "But, I'm only human, you know. Not like you two. Itty bitty human abilities, teenie weenie muscles."

"I know," Botty agreed. Then she called, "Please wait for us, Spike. Jester needs to rest."

"Soddin' ponce," Spike mumbled and he sat down on a tree stump to wait. He reached into his pocket and felt for Bob. The rat was asleep and Spike stroked his pet's hair absently and his eyes drifted shut. "We've gotta nearly be there. We've walked for miles today."

"Doesn't matter. I'm going to kill you now."

Spike's eyes flew open. He'd been caught off guard but he quickly fell back on sarcasm for defense. "Derke, mate. How nice to see you. Where you been all day?"

"Some of us don't have the luxury of traveling in daylight. But your timing is good, you've arrived in my neighborhood just at sundown."

"Your neighborhood?"

"Yes," laughed the ogre. "This is the border to my neighborhood, which by a happy coincidence, lies between you and the Emerald City." Derke's hunched body took a step closer, and he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his overcoat.

"Emerald City?" Spike feigned ignorance.

"You know. Where you're going? Where the Wizard lives?"

"Oh, there," Spike bluffed.

Derke snorted, "Give me the Ring and I'll let you go," Derke lied. "It's all I want anyway."

Spike considered it. He could give the man the Ring, go on in safety to Oz, get his wish and live "happily ever after" without Buffy. No skin off his nose. Somewhere off in the distance, Spike heard the faltering steps of Jester. "What 'bout them?" he asked, not knowing exactly why.

"Inconsequential to men like us," Derke replied with an evil grin.

Spike hesitated. There were days, no decades, no there was a whole century, when this would have been his answer too. But funny, not today. "Wish I could, pal, but it was a gift. Can't go givin' away presents, now. Don't get all that many."

Derke snarled. "Give me my brother's Ring."

"Well, now, I understand that your brother wasn't the rightful owner."

"You bastard!" Derke yelled as he dove toward Spike.

The larger man may have been stronger, but Spike was quicker. He darted to the side and let Derke run head first into the old tree stump. Spike lifted his arms and brought down his fists on the ogre's back, knocking him unconscious, face-first into the dust.

"Damn! I'm good." Spike smiled, bouncing on his toes and taking a moment to revel in his victory. Then he realized that he wouldn't have the element of surprise next time and that he'd best be on his way or suffer the consequences.

Just then Jester and Botty caught up with him. "Is that Derke?" Jester asked, frightened. Spike nodded. "Did you kill him?" Jester asked, impressed.

"Nah, just out cold."

Botty, who had been leaning over the body heard Spike's reply and drew herself back quickly. "We'd better leave then, huh?"

"Just thinkin' that m'self, ducks," Spike answered as he spun on his heel and led them into the forest.

---

PART 7

Once they'd entered the forest, they soon realized that Spike leading the way wasn't necessarily the best idea. He was clearing their path and after the thorns had cut into his hands several times, he relinquished that duty to Botty who, of course, didn't bleed. She made quick work of a narrow path now, for Jester who followed her and Spike who took up the rear and kept listening for Derke.

Spike looked ahead in the dark and his vampiric sight allowed him to see Botty working away tirelessly. Her bandanna, still standing up cheerfully on her head despite her efforts, was silhouetted in the gloom. It was all pretty absurd, everything that had happened the last two days. Absurd, that is, if you compared this to anywhere other than Sunnydale, CA. Spike found himself amused, at least, until Jester started in again.

Jester's whining had been annoying at first, then it had become so frequent, it was like white noise. Now it was infuriating. "Why did we have to come this way? Huh, Spike? I'm really tired now and it's cold. Can't we stop for a while and rest? How about here? This'd be good, don't you think? We could sit together and make a fire, keep warm, stop the hypothermia thing?" It was incessant and maddening.

"See here, you foolish little…runt," Spike growled. He had vamped before he could stop himself. Jester looked back at him and pure panic filled his face. The frightened man fell to his knees.

"Oh my God, a vampire! I didn't know. Oh my God, I didn't know. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Please don't eat me. Please don't eat me. Please don't eat me," he repeated, fear filling his voice as he curled into a ball at Spike's feet.

Immediately Spike shook off his game face. He hadn't attacked Jester. He was just trying to give him a little adrenaline rush. Get him through the next few hours. Shut him up! But now he felt funny with this "little" man, simpering before him. He'd happily fallen upon men in this position before, relishing their panic, getting a phenomenal head rush by tasting it in their blood as they died, but now…was that pity?

"Botty? Spike called. She stopped and came back to them.

"What did you do to him?!" She yelled as she neared the two men. She knelt at Jester's side and comforted him. "What did you do?"

Spike was confused and in his uncertainty, he chose not to defend his actions, but to change the subject. "We'll stop here for the night. We can find a hiding place for the night, Jester can rest and in the daytime, when Derke can't travel, we'll be on our way."

"Sounds like a plan," Botty smiled, brushing back a lock of faux hair that had fallen out of place. She even has Dawn's mannerisms, Spike thought, neat to the end. The resemblance was uncanny. "I think I saw something a ways back, a cave near the road."

Spike stepped off the path, out of her way and swung his arm back toward where they'd come from. "Lead on m'lady," he offered.

Botty laughed. "I've only known you for a day, Spike. But I know that your English accent didn't come from that part of history." She brushed past him. Spike grinned and leaned over to help Jester up off the ground. "C'mon ponce, we're gonna spend the night dug in like gophers." Jester pulled away but finally took Spike's outstretched hand and rose on his still trembling legs. They all made their way back down the road about 200 yards.

"There," Botty called out. There was nothing to see except a wall of dirt.

"I don't see anything," Jester was already whining again.

"Me nei…no, there, on the left. See? 's darker. Here, I'll go in first. Check it out." The cave entrance was small, so that Spike had to get down on all fours to crawl in. He knelt there at the opening for a few minutes, listening, but when he heard nothing, he moved forward down the short burrow. Soon the tunnel opened up so that he could almost stand upright. As he did, he felt something brush by him in the dark. Something alive. "Wha' th' Hell?" He flicked open his lighter and illuminated the cave with its light. He saw a shadow scurrying across the floor. His eyes followed it to a dark corner where it disappeared. "Well, now, wha' d'we got here?"

Behind him he heard Botty coming through the tunnel and he stepped aside. "Watch out, Botty, there's somethin' in here." Botty popped he head out into the cavern slowly, her bandanna still raised high. Suddenly a shriek filled the space around them. High pitched, shrill, continuous, it lasted for minutes. Spike covered his ears. Botty's auditory system shut down instead of overloading and Jester, who waited in the tunnel froze in fear. It was as if a huge air siren had gone off within their heads, one that included fingernails and a blackboard for extra measure.

Finally it stopped and Spike took his hands away from his head slowly. At first he could hear nothing…his senses had been so overwhelmed. Then he heard it. There was a snuffling sound coming from that dark corner, ragged breath mixed with murmured words, or parts of words. Spike took a step in that direction. "See here," he started but he got no farther as he was being pelted immediately by what seemed like hundreds of small rocks, being flung toward him from that same spot. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted, as he sought shelter somewhere, anywhere. He fell to the floor and covered his head. "Botty," he called to the robot, "Stop those rocks!" But Botty wasn't listening, her systems were still off.

In the silence between the noise and before the rocks, Jester had moved forward into the cave. Since Spike now seemed to be under fire and Botty was not listening, it was up to him. Silently he felt his way along the walls to the source of the rocks. He stopped when he nearly tripped over what he would have once thought of as a fort; one like he had made in his youth, playing war games with his friends. He'd often played 'the spy' and here, now, those skills came back to him.

The rocks continued to be aimed toward Spike as Jester knelt down on the outside of the fort wall and slowly peered over the top, to size up the enemy. It seemed like it was taking forever, but he didn't want to draw attention so he only moved bit by bit until his field of vision drew in the contents of the fort. Then he smiled. He quickly covered his mouth, knowing that smiles in Jester only led to giggling and laughter. He tried to stop, really he did, but he couldn't help himself, a snort escaped. The rocks stopped as their enemy realized the situation and adjusted aim. Jester ducked under the shelter of the wall, hysterical.

With rocks going in Jester's direction and his enemy distracted, Spike quickly got up and with a yell, threw himself bodily into the fort and on top of his adversary. He landed on something…soft. It gasped. It kicked and it tried to draw in air for another screaming assault. Spike reached past claw-like nails and put one hand over its mouth and the other behind its neck. "Oh, no. Not again," he warned as his grasp tightened. "And wha's wrong wi' you?" Spike asked the amused Jester.

"It's just a girl!" he managed to sputter. "A little, human, girl stopped a vampire and a robot single-handed! And very well too, I might add!"

"'s not a girl. She's full grown, idiot. This is a woman and I'd guess she has some kind of power that she'd be happy t'share with us, given the chance. Right, luv?" He looked down at the eyes of his prisoner. They shone with fear but they blazed with fury. She nodded defiantly, still trying to inflict damage with nails and feet. One of her kicks connected and Spike let go. "Ow! That hurt!" Their eyes had finally adjusted to the cave and they realized it wasn't completely dark, a single oil lamp burned in the corner of the room, in the fort. Spike looked over his adversary. She was about his height, and dressed in animal skin. She wore a myriad of charms and talismans around her neck. She stared back at him, triumphantly.

Jester was laughing harder now, holding his sides in pain and the woman turned on him. "What's so funny? I don't see what's so funny! You invaded my home. Walked in uninvited, grabbed me, hurt me. But worst of all you brought that in here!"

"You mean Botty?"

"Botty? What kind of name is that?"

The robot had come back online by now with basic programming. "Hi, I'm Botty. Will you be my friend?"

The woman glared at Botty, "Like hell!"

Despite a new wave of hysteria, Jester stood up and led their hostess across the room toward Botty explaining, "She's a robot."

The woman was incredulous. "Huh?"

"A robot, you know, all nuts and bolts and wires."

Correcting herself the rock-thrower commented, "Course, I can see that, NOW. But when she crawled in…" the woman pointed at Botty with a shaking hand and could actually could only get out one word, "Bunny."

"Bunny?!" Spike and Jester repeated simultaneously. Then Spike saw it and Jester fell to the floor, laughing. The bandanna had appeared to this woman to be the ears of her most dreaded phobia. Spike reached up and pulled the bandanna off Botty's head and tucked it in his pocket.

"Hey," Botty protested, more sentient now.

"Sorry, pet. One for all, you know." He turned back to the woman. "Listen, we need a place to bed down for the night. D'you mind if it's here?"

The look on her face was priceless. A mixture of fear, surprise, relief. "Do I have a choice?""

"Sure," Jester answered. You could say no and he'll eat you, or yes and he might not."

"Eat me?"" the woman responded incredulously. "You mean this gets worse? I say no and you kill me now, or I say yes and you kill me in my sleep?"

"We wouldn't do either. I promise. He's just teasing. Jester you stop that now." Botty reassured her fully back on line now, but as she stepped closer, the woman drew away, terrified. The woman's back was up against the wall in a corner of her cave, which turned out to have plenty of room for all four of them. She was trembling and seemed to be trying to process it all. Spike and the others each took a seat and waited.

Spike was rubbing bruises where rocks had caught him on the arms and head.

"You got quite an arm there... What is your name anyway?"

The woman shook her head. blonde head, "Not telling."

"Okay then, I can't keep callin' you 'you', now can I? So I'll call you…Kitty instead."

"Kitty?"

"As in 'fraidy cat?"

"Oh."

"Oh, that's rich!" Jester laughed.

"I kinda like it," Botty added.

"So, Kitty, we need somewhere to stay tonight. Reckon this is it. Sorry if it ruins any plans you might have made for other entertainment."

Kitty slid down the wall that had been holding her up and sat on the floor.

Spike and Jester went back out through the tunnel to secure it. They erased the footprints they'd left from the road to the cave entrance then they reentered the cave, pulling in several dead and twisted branches after them.

"That ought to keep Derke out for the night."

"Yep. It oughta. Hey, these branches remind me of a joke!"

"Doesn't everything?"

"Well, yeah. Pretty much,"" Jester admitted. "Did you hear about the lonely rose gardener? He was always thor…"

---

PART 8

After they were secure, the drew into a circle in the cave, to await dawn. "Never thought I'd be waiting to go out in the daylight." Spike mused.

"Never thought I'd have the opportunity to have a family,"" Botty said.

"Or that I could be a man," Jester finished.

"What are you all talking about?"" Kitty had been listening to the other's banter with interest.

"We're going to see the Wizard," Botty explained. "We're going to ask him to grant us each a wish. A family is mine. Jester wants to be a man and Spike, well, his is a little more complicated," she whispered to Kitty behind her hand, "He's in love."

"Really?" Kitty's eyes grew round, but softened when she saw the pain on his face.

Spike, of course, had heard the conversation, "Yeah. Nuts, huh?"

"No. No, really Spike. Love is never 'nuts'. Kitty spoke from her heart. "It might make you nuts, but it will find its true destiny no matter where you end up hiding."

Spike considered that, and his surroundings. Why was he here again? What was it he'd told the witches he wanted? He wanted to be out of love with Buffy. Did sitting in this cave have anything to do with that? A feeling of resentment washed through him. If he were traveling alone, he'd have taken on the ogre and defeated him. He'd have triumphed and would already be knocking on the Wizard's door. But instead, here he sat, hiding in the dark like a frightened bunny.

"How 'bout we change the subject, Kitty? What 'bout you, luv? What do you wish?"

"Who me?" Kitty looked around at each of the other's faces and she understood, there was no hatred here. They were offering her friendship and acceptance, despite her..."Fear." She blurted out the word and they all turned to look at her.

"Fear?"

"Yes. I'm sick of it. I hide here in this wood, in this cave, afraid of everything. Everything is an effort, a hardship to overcome. Each event brings so many other things to consider. Like, for example, …morning. Waking up is good, but will your first view of the day be sunny and bright or dark and dreary? Then there's the actual getting out of bed to consider. Will the floor be cold? What do I have for breakfast? What's on the schedule for the day? Did I forget something today? Yesterday?" Spike, Jester and Botty exchanged glances. "Well, you see what I mean. Anyway, I'd really like it to stop. I'd like to be sure of my decisions, know that I'm doing the right thing. Be brave and fearless for once."

"You really feel like that?" Jester asked incredulously. "Scared? All the time?"

Kitty nodded.

"Spike? Can we… Do you think we could? Spike knew what he was being asked.

"Don't know. We've still got a long way to go. We might not even make it through tonight, what with the only things between us and Derke being a concussion and a few thorns."

"Derke?" Kitty shrieked. Is that who's after you? Oh, hell. We're toast. Well, Spike, you might just as well agree to take me with you then. We're dead anyway."

"Why?"

"He hunts all night, especially if he has something particular he's after. He never gives up. He's relentless and his senses are very keen. The only senses keener belong to his hellhounds. He probably knows where we are already."

"Well, we can't go anywhere else right now, so we'll just have to wait and see."

"Like sitting ducks," Botty worried.

Jester summed it up. "Quack."

They took turns keeping watch that night. Three slept while one stayed awake, checking on the thorny entrance, holding their breath, well, those who could. Spike sat in the dark, petting Bob, whose presence had, by the way, freaked out their hostess yet again. His vampire eyes trained on the cave entrance, his mind a whirl of recent events. Time seemed to stop when it was your turn.

His thoughts drifted back to the alley fight with Angel. Spike had been walking down the back streets of Sunnydale, making his way home from Willy's and Angel had jumped out in front of him. Spike knew immediately, as always with his grandsire, that he was mismatched, so he tried talking. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. What brings you to town, Angel?"

"Business, Spike. Personal business."

"Yeah? Anyone I know?"

"Intimately." The word came out of Angel's mouth like a bolt. He knew. Somehow he'd found out about Spike and Buffy, about everything. And Spike was afraid of Angel for the second time in a century. But damned if he'd give him the satisfaction. Knowing it would piss off Angel no end, Spike grinned. It was an evil, sadistic and self-satisfied grin that said, "I've gotten away with something." It wasn't true, of course, Angel was long over Buffy,

To his credit, Angel held his temper for a moment longer. "I'm just telling you now, leave her alone. If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"Hurt her? You mean like you did? Leavin' town? Breakin' her heart in two and leavin' her to pick up the pieces? Never."

Angel was taken aback by Spike's criticism. It still twisted his insides to imagine what Buffy had felt when he walked out of her life.

"But, if you mean like I did last night..." Spike continued.

Angel looked up at Spike's leering grin and knew exactly what he meant.

"Damn you!" He could hold back no longer and made for Spike's head.

"Hey. Where are you?" Kitty's voice brought Spike back to the present. She was sitting near him, holding the single cave lamp.

"Sorry, just thinkin'. What're you doin'' up?"

"Can't sleep. I keep imagining Derke being right outside the door." Kitty hugged her arms as she shivered.

"Here," Spike offered her his duster, but she shook her head. "You're cold," he offered again. This time she took the coat and slipped it on, savoring the warmth it offered.

"You know, I was wondering about you. You're not human either. Right? Are you a robot like Botty?""

Spike shook his head, "Vampire, well, sort of. At least that's what I was. I don't know any more."

Word of what Spike was, had obviously frightened her again, she managed a, "Hmmm?"

"Well, seems I have this computer chip in m'head. I can't bite people any more."

"Is that what Jester meant when he said you might eat me?" Spike shrugged. "But you can't?" He shrugged again. "Good," Kitty said quickly. Then she thought, "So, is that what makes you sad? Or is it like Botty said, you're in love."

Spike laughed gently, "Sorta gotten used to the chip, I guess. Just a new set o' rules. But, I've been in love three times in my entire existence. And those rules…well, I haven't figured them out yet. Just seems it always makes you sad, sooner or later."

"Who is she?"

"Buffy Summers…." Spike's voice softened. "It's complicated."

"How?"

Spike looked at Kitty. She seemed interested and he could sure use someone to talk to. Haltingly he told her, "She's a Vampire Slayer. Sworn to kill my kind. She only lets me live 'cuz of the chip. I hated her, then I fell in love with her. She doesn't love me though. After she died…I thought..."

"After she died?"

"Yeah, well, like I said, 's complicated." Spike leaned back on his elbows and continued almost to himself, "She jumped into this portal, kind of an energy mass, to save the world. It worked, but she died. Then her friends, witches and whatnot, brought her back…147 long days later. Since then she's been sharin' things with me, important stuff 'bout herself, even sharin' her bed. But she isn't herself. I know that, just like I know that she's just usin' me to make herself feel better. Don't mind though. I kinda figure I've been usin' her too. Usin' her to forget…what I am. Anyway, I figure it'll pass and we'll move on t' it bein' somthin' better. Told myself I could wait, but it's takin' so long. It's killin' her, killin' us both."

Kitty sat silent for a moment, trying to understand. "So you're going to the Wizard to end that? To make an end of it?"

Spike nodded. Suddenly he looked up at the entrance of the cave. He heard noises beyond their thorned gate. "Did you hear that?" he asked Kitty. She had.

"Hellhounds," she agreed, whispering now. "They're looking for us. Sniffing us out."

"Will the thorns hold?" Spike wondered.

"Not if they catch our scent." Spike moved back from the cave opening.

"Kitty," he called out, but the woman had taken the lamp and was crawling toward the opening, not away. She'd moved up into the tunnel about five feet. "Kitty, come back from there," Spike hissed.

In a harried whisper, Kitty called back, "You don't think I've been living in the Ogre's neighborhood for the last…well, long time…without learning a few tricks. Do you?"

"But they'll…" Spike's voice faded as he watched Kitty pull off one of her talismans and touch it to the fire of her oil lamp. "You're a witch?"

"More like a medicine woman," Kitty whispered back, "but I'll take what I can get." Quickly a cloud of smoke arose from Kitty's amulet. "Smell it," she offered.

Kitty smiled with a little revenge as Spike began to gag almost immediately. "What the Hell is that stench?"

"That's the smell of a female blue ginzer in heat."

Spike held his nose and managed to cough out, "A what?"

"A ginzer is a large lizard-like predator that used to be common around here. They were top of the food chain, until they began to die off mysteriously a few years ago. Personally, I think that Derke was killing them for sport, or because it was the only thing his hellhounds were afraid of, but whatever the case, they're all gone now. I know, because I've checked. But the smell of them still intimidates the hounds, even when they're on the hunt. They'd rather look anywhere else than where a ginzer lives. Especially an ill-tempered female."

Spike was impressed. Necessity might be the mother of invention, but he was beginning to think that maybe fear was. He watched as the smoke made its way through the thorns at the entrance of the cave and he heard yelps from the other side of the barrier as it slid through the branches. The snuffling he had heard disappeared.

The next morning, the motley foursome, gathered their meager belongings together and headed out. They crawled out into the sun and stretched. Spike was the first to see the prints in the dust around the entrance; huge paw prints. He knelt down and placed his hand inside of one. The new impression he'd made was dwarfed by the size of the paw print, which was easily twice the size of his hand, and they were everywhere. Obviously the hellhounds were enormous. And, from the look of the accompanying marks of booted handlers being pulled forward uncontrollably, "powerful" was also applicable.

"Impressive," Spike commented.

"You don't want to know," Kitty affirmed.

They took off down the path, continuing in the direction they had abandoned last night. Botty stepped up to the lead and began to break their way through the thorns again. Kitty watched in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"Making a path," Botty answered, arms swinging rhythmically into the brush.

Kitty shook her head, "There's an easier way, you know."

"If we knew of an easier way, don't you think we'd be using it?" Spike snapped.

Stepping up to the front of the line, Kitty asked Botty gently, "Do you mind?" and took her place. With a wave of her hand she spoke a single word, "Passage." Suddenly the thorns parted in front of them. With equal speed they sealed the path behind them until they were completely surrounded.

"What have you done?" Jester demanded wildly.

Spike spun on her but Kitty stood her ground. "Watch." She took a step toward the thorns the boundary of their space expanded to accommodate her. Another step, it got larger. "Come on," she urged the others forward. As they stepped forward, the thorns closed in around them. "See? It's easy."

Spike reached out towards the branches and smiled as they moved out of his way, "Cute. Kinda like travelin' in a tortoise shell."

"Tortoise?" Kitty asked.

"Well, it's a…," he began to make gestures with his hands and gave up. "Never mind. How fast can we travel?"

"It keeps pace with us, we set our own speed. We just all need to stick together, as one group, or it gets kind of confused.

"Confused?"

"It'll cut us off from each other, we could get lost or trapped separately."

"Right. Together then," and the branches made way for Spike as he led off in the direction of the Emerald City.

---

PART 9

They had traveled for hours encased in thorns. The forest around them became so dense at one point that they had lost their path for lack of illumination. However, because of Kitty's knowledge of the woods and Spike's keen sense of direction, they had now stood about ten feet from the edge of the wood and had come through without incident.

From their "bubble" Spike could look out through the remaining trees and see it, beyond the treeline lay a vast meadow. Tall blades created ocean waves in the gentle breezes and wildflowers shared the land and rode the waves like foam, bees and birds hovered over the seed tops like salt spray. Spike stared at it for a long time, halting their progress. Memories rushed back over him again, children making nests in the tall grass, laying down and looking up into crystal blue skies. Puffs of clouds being named as they sail by, "I see a ship. A duck. A locomotive!" The sounds were comforting, nostalgic, sad. Then he saw the children on horseback. A teenaged boy was in the lead, his brown hair tousled into his eyes again and the young girl with golden curls calling after him, "Billy, wait up! Miss Nibbles can't go that fast." The boy reined in his steed, pausing until the girl caught up with him, he reached out and pulled a curl teasingly, "C'mon Nancy. Let's go home." They took off at a gentler speed…

"Spike?! What IS that?" Botty was asking, apparently at least a second time.

Spike suddenly became aware of the thundering sound of hoofbeats coming toward them, no, not hoofbeats, but the rhythmic pounding of heavy pads headed in their direction.

"Back up!" Spike called. The group, as a whole, moved back into the forest as quickly as they could. Spike, stayed on the side nearest the meadow, whether it was because he didn't want to leave the sight, or because he wanted to be between his group and danger. Either way, he was the only one to see how close the hellhounds came to finding them at that moment. He was backing up himself, but the meadow was still visible when the hounds passed, and he stopped to watch. They'd been released and were running along the edge of the forest, no doubt doing a roundabout sweep to make sure their quarry was still contained before returning to the hunt. As the pack passed, and although still a good 10 feet away, Spike felt the heat of their breath, the rush of wind as they ran.

"Spike come on," the others called. "We've got to move back." But their voices grew further away as he stopped his backpedaling to stare at the beasts.

Without realizing it, some part of Spike wished he could join them; share in their excitement, the pursuit of prey. The days of hunting with Dru, Angelus and Darla, of encircling the quarry, of feeding off their fear were long over, but the feelings remained. That last bit of strength spent in ending the life you hunted. Spike's eyes swept the scene before him. Suddenly he was eye to eye with one of the beasts. A lone hound had stopped its trek at just this point, whether it sensed him or was just lucky, Spike would never know, but there they stood, looking at each other. The hound's eyes were level with his own and they burned with energy, flaming a predatory yellow. Spike met his gaze with understanding. The hound hesitated, took a step in Spike's direction, panting, drops of sweat dripping from its lips. Then the animal was on the move again. To him, Spike was fellow hunter, not hunted. And then it was gone...back into the flow, one of the pack again. And just like that, Spike was prey once more.

He turned to find the others but they were gone. "Kitty?" he yelled.

"Spike?" her voice was far away. "Follow my voice. We've gotten separated!"

"Okay, stay there," he hollered and he walked toward the voice in the thicket. They must have been near to each other, but it seemed like hours, before they had been able to rejoin their shells. In the process of finding each other they'd moved back into the forest and the sunlight was far away again. They took a moment to rest. Once they'd stopped, Spike turned his head away from the group, away from the haunting memory of the hellhound's stare. Images from the last two days, memories and longings were jumbled in his head. The meeting with the pack and forced him to face that it would never leave him, the exhilaration of chasing something was intoxicating. And at that moment he realized what it was Willow must be going through. Letting go of the strength, the pure power, how would he ever...

Botty placed a hand on his shoulder, joining him where he stood alone. "You okay?"

He couldn't answer, but wiped his hand over his face and nodded unconvincingly.

"It's all right you know. To want it." Spike turned to look questioningly into the robot's eyes. How did she know what he was thinking?

"I know what you were, and what you are. It's okay to miss parts of you that you've left behind. I think that each person's life is a balance of three things; what they were, what they are and what they want to be. You never exist completely in any one of those, but always somewhere in between. The trick is finding your balance. That's what makes you happy." Spike looked at her, warmed by her gentleness.

"Of course, we hope that you continue to like being friendly for the next little while at least," Jester finished.

Spike looked over at Jester who had his arms around Kitty, she looked frightened again. "For a while at least," Spike nodded. Mentally, then, he shook off the emotion and took a moment to access their situation. With a deep, unneeded breath he continued, "Well, they're gone. Seems they're going 'round once or twice. 's long as it took us to walk through it, it'll take 'em at least another hour to circle it. Now's our chance. You all game?" He looked around the group and they each nodded. "Right then, let's go."

He began to walk toward the meadow again. When they reached the spot they'd abandoned earlier, he stopped again and looked around. No daydreamin' this time, he thought and plunged forward into daylight.

The thorny shell gave way to windswept plains and the sweet smell of wildflowers. Each of them rejoiced in the feeling of openness now afforded them after their hours confined to their "passage". But soon they had regrouped and were walking with determination. The paved path, which had disappeared within the forest, now reappeared under their feet and they fell into step on its familiar surface. They crested the first hill and saw with delight the gleaming green spires of the Emerald City before them.

---

PART 10

Although it was in sight, it took the remainder of the day to reach the Emerald City and the sun was threatening to disappear before they finally reached the first signs of civilization. The path they were following began to take on a new aspect as ramshackle huts and shacks appeared on either side.

"It feels dead," Jester whispered to Spike who nodded.

There were no other people on their pathway, but Spike had sensed their presence for quite a while. "Yep, everyone's gone." He was uncomfortable, but refused to show it.

The shacks came closer together now and began to become two, three, even four stories high. There were signs of daily life all around; laundry hanging on lines between the buildings, children's toys left unattended, but it was still eerily empty and quiet. As they continued, lower stories of the buildings began to have signs indicating services sold there; printers, bakers, used books, collectables. Doors hung open on their hinges and curtains moved behind windows, but till there were no signs of life. "What is this?" Botty wondered out loud. "Did we frighten them all away?"

"Could be, I guess. But why?" Spike asked.

"Well, we are kind of funky looking, I guess," Botty pointed out. "I mean, look at you, all dressed in black and leather with your ash blonde hair, my hands are all dirty and cut from the thorns. We've been walking for most of two days and we could all use a shower and a good combing."

Spike took a critical look at the group. She was right. "Okay, then, first stop once we're in is to wash up," he agreed.

They neared the gate. It towered above them. And it was closed. Spike raised a fist to knock but just as he did, the door swung wide open and a pair of arms reached out and grabbed him and Jester by the lapels and dragged them inside. Kitty and Botty followed, concerned and ready for a fight. A little, round old man had the boys in hand. "It's about time you got here," his voice sang out. "We've been waiting for you!" He let go his grip and started searching his pockets for something. He pulled out a whisk broom.

"Waiting?" Jester asked.

"On us?" Kitty asked.

"Yes, oh my goodness. Yes!" the fussy little man pulled the girls in through the opening and reached around to close the door behind them. "Oh dear, you're all so late! The party was supposed to start an hour ago and now, well, everyone is growing impatient." As he spoke he swept each of them with the broom and ran a comb through their hair (except Spike who wouldn't let the man near his head). "My, my, my. Well, it'll have to do, that's all. It'll just have to do."

"Party?" Spike asked when finally able to get a word in.

"Yes! Of course! Of course. You don't know, now, do you? The people of Oz have put together a party for all four of you, in honor of your arrival."

"That's nice," Kitty explained their confusion, "but, why?"

"Oh, my. Well, I…I… I guess it's because…because…well, we just like parties," the man laughed and his eyes sparkled.

"Is the whole town in here?" Spike asked, "'cuz the streets are deserted outside."

"Certainly. Most certainly. Everyone comes to the parties!" The man looked them over again as the quartet exchanged curious glances. "Yes, well, that's better now. Time for your entrance. Time for your entrance." He shooed them into line by a large, green, wooden door. "I'll let them know you're here," he whispered, and then he disappeared. Several more curious glances later, and they heard a trumpet on the other side of the door blow a fanfare.

Kitty who, by chance, stood at the front of the line turned white with fear. Her eyes got huge and she looked lost. "What do I do?" she asked the others, who didn't know. Just then, the door in front of her opened and the little man who had greeted them was on the other side. "Welcome!" he called out to them so the whole world could hear and with that a roar of cheering began behind him. He reached out and took Kitty's hand, pulling her through the door. Botty, Jester and Spike followed automatically.

The little man led their group through a crowd of well dressed, Emerald City citizens to a small stage, in a room that looked to Spike, eerily like the Bronze did pre-troll. It was dark and industrial, filled with small tables, a bar, the stage, pool tables and a dance floor. In fact, Spike realized, it could be a replica of The Bronze. The noise was phenomenal, for a loud, electric band now joined the cheering throng. Flash bulbs went off around them, there were stage lights and spotlights on them, and confetti and balloons had been dropped from the ceiling somewhere. From the stage, Spike shielded his eyes, trying to get a look at the crowd. He saw one of the munchkin bikers front and center, and next to him at a half-empty table were the two witches. He cocked his head to one side, curiously. "What are you doin' here?" he asked, but they couldn't hear him.

After a few minutes, their host, signaled the band to stop and with the screech of guitar strings and few last thumps on the drums, they did. He raised his hands to the crowd and slowly gained their attention. With perfect timing, the rotund little man raised his voice, "Citizens of the Emerald City, I give you tonight's guests of honor!" Again, the crowd roared. It was deafening. Somehow above a lull in the noise, their host's voice could be heard, "Spike! Botty! Jester! And Kitty!" The sound swelled again. It was hitting them like waves.

Spike crossed the stage and looked down on the little man, "Listen, shorty, unless you want to be the bleedin' center of attention, explain this to me right now."

"Oh, my. Don't you understand?" They all shook their heads in his direction. "It's a party. We have one here in the Emerald City (or EC as we call it) every day for one reason or another; someone's birthday, the first day of spring, Monday. But today is special, we were told you would be here and why by our two friends, the witches," he waved his arm in their general direction. "The destruction of Kerke and the evasion of Derke's revenge are two very good reasons for a party, we think."

Spike shook his head in disbelief. This uninvited attention was exactly that, uninvited. And things were far from over. "When do we get to meet the Wizard?"

"Well, now. I just knew you'd ask that! Knew it!" he laughed. Spike stepped toward him again. Nervously the little man answered, "He'll be dropping in later, as he usually does."

"Later?" Spike growled. "What time, exactly?"

"I should say about three hours from now. Yes, three hours. That's when he usually arrives at the party. Why don't you sit at your table and have a drink?" the man indicated the table where the witches sat, watching what was happening with great interest.

Spike felt distracted by the things going on around them. They'd been so focused on traveling and staying safe for the last 48 hours, that suddenly having nothing to do but sit and wait was disturbing. And being here in familiar surroundings made Spike feel like Buffy could walk in at any time, also disturbing.

They sat down at their table. The band was decent, which was good because even for the guests of honor, service was slow. By the time the waitress finally showed up 45 minutes later, Spike was practically jumping out of his skin. He ordered something simple yet effective; double, JD straight up. The waitress looked at him like he was from another planet. He slammed his hands down on the table, threw out a couple of wonderful English epithets and went in search of a door. He needed a nice quiet place to smoke and think.

He opened several doors before he found one with cool, fresh air behind it. It led to the alley. Familiar territory again. Spike leaned up against the brick wall by the door and lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag and let it out slowly, watching his tension float away with the smoke. He hadn't been in this alley since Buffy and he had first kissed…that night after the "big group sing". Funny how many important things in their relationship had taken place in this alley, and here, millions, or trillions of miles from home, he found himself thinking the same thoughts. It was here that he had first felt there was hope. When he'd told her secrets about himself, he'd taught her to dance, he'd told her things about what it meant to be a Slayer and then she'd broken his heart, for the first time. Sure, they'd fought, knocked each other senseless. They'd had their differences, even hated each other, but she'd never been cruel to him before. To use Cecily's words against him had been merciless. It twisted a heart he wasn't sure he still had, and he'd wept. He couldn't wait for the pain to go away.

"Bitch," he muttered.

"Well, I was going to give you more credit, but dropping the other gender reference makes it shorter and more to the point."

Spike's eyes flew open. Derke was standing in front of him, had the jump on him again.

"Bloody Hell, An…Derke. Can't you make some noise? We'll have to get you a bell!"

"No, I like it this way, bitch."

"'nough o' that," Spike threatened. Behind him he heard screaming.

"Ah, right on time," Derke smiled evilly. "Those would be my friends. I told them they could have whatever they could catch, except you. You're mine." Spike's mind was reeling. "I offered to let you go once before, bitch. Have you changed your mind?"

Spike looked down at the Ring of Amara he still wore on his thumb. It was all he had to bargain with. "What'll you give me for it?"

"A chance to live."

"Too late. What 'bout them?"

"Idiot. Don't you get it? This isn't about them. Not about sacrifice or mercy. I want that ring. You don't want to get dusty."

"I won't let them die."

"Since when do you care about them? What has any one of them ever given you but grief?" Spike waited for an answer. "Fine. Them too. The deal covers them all."

"The whole roomful?" Derke rolled his eyes but finally nodded. "How do I know you can be trusted?"

"You don't." The screaming was intensifying inside and Derke held out his hand. "Better hurry. They're running out of time in there."

Spike pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled. "Funny thing, trust," he mused, throwing the butt across the alley. "Goes both ways." He brought his hands together and began to remove the Ring as he stepped toward Derke. "Bloody thing's stuck," Spike mumbled as he attempted to remove it. As Derke bent over his hands to examine them, Spike flung both fists into the face of his enemy; he was sure he heard the crunch of bone as his hands met Derke's nose, but his feet were already moving, back through the alley door into the Bronze. He threw the bolt on the door behind him and watched as the door began to buckle under the fury of Derke's blows.

He looked around him and found all that he could, tables, chairs, a vending machine, to place between himself and the infuriated ogre on the other side of the door. He moved all he could then turned back into the room, into chaos.

---

PART 11

The witches were in the center of the room. They had obviously thrown a protection spell around the main group of four hundred or so but around this, the ogre's "friends" circled, chasing down those who were unfortunate enough to be outside when the spell began. The bodies of those they'd captured littered the floor and others were in the arms of their captors, screaming, bleeding, dying. About fifty others still ran, hid and cried around him.

And then, it was if the world had stopped. Spike looked at the scene, panning his view around the room, taking in the detail, a vampire there, a Hyesse demon here. A woman with drops of blood dripping down from where her throat had been, had been their waitress. The people within the circle with fear on their faces, men, women, teenagers, infants. One man had broken up a table and armed those around him with the legs. He and his men stood at the perimeter of the circle, ready to defend their families. A woman was kneeling on the floor, shielding the eyes of her toddler from the violence around them, whispering in her daughter's ear. Spike could read the words on her lips, "Don't look baby. Don't look. Mommy loves you. Be brave. Remember we love you."

The witches stood chanting in the center of the circle and Kitty was nearby, saying her own words, bent low over magic of her own making. Botty and Jester were outside of the circle, fighting their own battles. Botty had obviously begun by taking on the strongest opponent, but she had suffered in the attempt, she had been damaged and her circuits were sparking, sending electrical arcs into the air even as she fought on. Jester was working his way around the back of the room, one by one, trying to find a way out for those who were in "no man's land". He had worked is way into a corner where he now faced two massive opponents, vampires whose bloodlust was obvious even from where Spike stood. There was fear in Jester's face, honest, mortal fear. And it made Spike…angry.

With no thought of himself, of good or evil, of destiny, heart, romance, myth, soul or prophecy, or of Buffy, Spike threw back his head and roared. As the last reverberations of his declaration died away, another frozen moment suspended around him, capturing each eye as it turned in his direction, each friendly face as it gained resolve from his strength, each demon who caught himself mid-action, abandoning prey for predator. Then, suddenly, the enemy was upon him.

Two demons who had been the closest, drew near to him, to Spike's delight, too near. He spun into the air and caught one of them under the chin with a well placed kick. The demon fell back upon four of his comrades, now approaching the battleground. The remaining demon stood to fight Spike hand to hand. He sent a fist in the direction of Spike's head, but it was easily dodged and followed by the blow of Spike's shoulder into the demon's stomach. Spike flipped the startled body over his back and rushed forward toward where he'd last seen Jester. The two vampires still stood there, but now they faced Spike with their backs toward the corner where Jester stood. "Fellas," Spike began with camaraderie. "You wouldn't begrudge another vamp a little of the spoils now would you?" The two oafs were confused. The looked at each other and that was long enough for Spike to produce the stake he had in his breast pocket. He lunged toward the demon on the right and was surprised to see both demons explode into dust as his stake found its mark. As the dust cleared, he saw Jester behind where the other vampire had stood, stake in his hand, surprise and glee on his face. Spike nodded in his direction then spun on his heel and turned his attention toward other evils.

With his success to encourage them, the armed EC'ers left their circle and began to win back their dignity. After several more minutes of intense fighting, the tide of the battle had begun to turn when the back door flew open and Derke strode into the melee. Spike understood the situation immediately and moved to position himself between Derke and the others, separating him from his pack and from the people.

Spike grinned at the ogre whose nose was bleeding and whose hands were torn up from clawing his way into the building. Derke was enraged beyond words. He stepped toward Spike, intent on killing him. Spike, who hadn't up until now, went game face and Derke hesitated. "I see you've decided to come out. I thought you weren't public anymore, vampire. Thought you were ashamed of your heritage."

"My 'heritage' is not my master. Havin' it was not my choice, but now its time and its purpose are mine to choose." Spike stood his ground.

"Your victory won't mean much if you rely on that Ring."

Looking around Spike agreed. "Right then, this fight's just you and me. Winner takes all."

Derke looked his rival over, grinned and nodded slowly. Spike removed the Ring and put it in the pocket of his duster. Immediately Derke was upon him. He had the weight advantage and it caught Spike by surprise. He was on his back before he knew what had happened. He rolled to the right avoiding Derke's next blow which broke through the floorboards as if they were toothpicks. Derke pulled his fist back and shook off the pain. With his other hand he reached for Spike who was able to avoid Derke's unbalanced grasp and roll out of reach. The smaller man was on his feet again in an instant. He bounced on his toes, waiting for the other man to stand.

As Derke got his footing and pushed himself up off the ground, Spike spun quickly and landed a roundhouse kick on the side of his head, sending Derke reeling toward the crowd. The ogre bounced off of the witch's protective circle and back into the fighting arena. He squared himself up throwing several unsuccessful punches at Spike who was obviously quicker, and who was staying just out of reach. In frustration Derke rushed Spike again but without the element of surprise, Spike easily sidestepped the other man's onrush. Derke fell against an unoccupied table and smashed it to pieces.

"Ready to quit?" Spike taunted his opponent.

"Not hardly," came the answer from the floor where Derke lay. He turned, face up and addressed Spike. "You can't get rid of me that easily." And with that Derke transformed himself into, or rather back into the creature he really was. His body expanded to shred his clothes. His face changed from human to reptilian, with scales and amber, slitted eyes. His arms became shorter and stronger, while fingers grew to talons. Legs grew twice their size in muscle mass and from out of his back a long, whip-like tail grew. Spike recognized the claws as the same ones that had disappeared under the Summers' house what seemed so long ago.

Everyone within the crowd exchanged glances. Should they help? Should they say something? But before they could answer, the beast bellowed, "I'll have what is mine!" His long tail swung almost instantly across the space between them, snapping at just the right moment to leave a deep cut from eye to jaw, across Spike's cheek. There must have been an irritant on or within this monster's skin for Spike could feel the wound beginning to burn. Then it tore through his skin like fire, digging its pain beneath the surface of the skin, to the muscle, the bone, his very center. The pain was so overwhelming that it dropped Spike to his knees. Suddenly pain was everything, there were no demons, no witches, no Jester, no Botty, no Derke; only searing, all uncompromising pain. His head fell back and his eyes rolled upward and Derke laughed in victory as he Spike's body ceased to move. "Know thy enemy, fool!" his voice thundered through the room.

As silence fell again, the sound of snuffling and quiet scratching drew Derke's attention. "Huh?" the creature stared in the direction of Spike's still kneeling body and cocked its head. He listened and waited. The crowd was motionless. In another second Bob's small nose appeared out of the pocket of Spike's long, leather coat. His whiskers twitched nervously and his small paws felt for the opening. His small head peeked out and Derke questioned, "A rat?" Then he laughed., "A rat!" He and his cohorts were all amused.

Bob, however, was unfazed. He pulled himself up out of the pocket where he had been curled up, hiding during the fight, and dropped ungracefully to the floor. This seemed to amuse the beasts even further and the laughter began to build. Bob waddled from where he fell, stopping occasionally to sit, wipe his face and sniff the air before continuing slowly until he reached Spike's open hand, which hung limply at his side.

One of the other demons chortled, "Aw, Spikey has a widdle pet." Derke was growing bored, but stopped to chuckle once more at the emotional attachment between man and rat. Bob was using his nose to nudge Spike's hand. "Look," another fiend sneered, "Ratty wants some wuv." "Fat chance," yelled out another.

Bob's movements became more and more insistent. Derke was turning his back when he saw it. From within Bob's cheek, he'd pulled something shiny, metallic. The rat now held it in his teeth and seemed to be fully concentrated on moving whatever it was into a particular position.

Again, Derke cocked his head toward the rat and then the realization hit him. "No!" he screamed as the rat slipped the Ring of Amara back onto Spike's thumb.

Instantly Spike's head lifted up and his eyes came to rest on Derke as strength flowed back through his body like life itself. The creature had checked himself in its astonishment of the event, and it was his undoing. Spike leapt to his feet and quickly crossed to his bewildered enemy. "That wasn't fair, now, was it?" He reached down and pulled a three inch diameter leg from the remains of the table Derke had fallen into before. He swung the bat slowly in his hands, testing the weight, the balance.

"No, Spike. It doesn't have to be this way. We can work together, you and I. You'd be unquestioned. There'd be destruction and devastation the likes of which you've never seen, plundering, the spoils of war. Our rule would be one of terror and fear, blood and lust. Don't you want that? To be in charge, to dispense your own justice?"

Spike lowered his gaze and walked slowly toward Derke. His duster flapping gently behind him. He strode softly, evenly, like the hunter he was. "Y'know, mate? There's a time I'd've taken you up on that offer. Maybe even yesterday. Cuz, I liked that stuff, loved it, reveled in it." Derke looked up hopefully. "But not today. Y'know why? Not for them," he pointed to the other people gathered throughout the room, "and not for the woman I love, Hell, not even for me. Do you know why?"

Derke couldn't help but watch as the man spoke, although he knew it wasn't looking good for him. He shook his head. "Why?"

"Because it would be wrong." And with that Spike swung his club. People across the room later said they had felt the breeze it created, but mostly they remembered the sound it made when it smashed through the arm Derke had raised for protection, and the subsequent "thwack" of cracked skull and mashed brain tissue.

With Derke's death the other demons saw little upside and fled, chased loudly by a contingency of EC "warriors". The people who remained began to collect themselves and to access the damage. Screams broke out intermittently as wounded and dead were identified. Spike just stood there, staring at the body of the demon he'd just killed. Bob sniffed around at his feet, but Spike didn't move and no one else dared approach him. He still held the bat at his side, and every so often there was a quiet tapping sound as blood dripped from it and hit the floor.

---

PART 12

Slowly order was regained. Friends and families found themselves again and comforted each other for their losses and their traumas. The bodies of the slain were taken away to their homes and laid out for their wakes, or their shivas, or whatever they had in Oz. But whatever tasks had to be done, whoever did them always returned to The Bronze. Those who had chased off the demons began to return telling stories of how they had chased the beasts to the edge of the forest where they'd lost each of them in the tangle of thorns. Still Spike stood unmoved.

Botty had regenerated enough circuits on her own to be able to make and hand out coffee to those who needed it. Kitty sat with the witches and discussed the long term ramifications of Kerke and Derke's deaths, what creatures might rise to take their place and how to defend against them. Jester organized the clean-up effort, arranging for crews to remove rubble, scrubbing blood from the floor, repairing and re-securing the back door. Each of them watched Spike as they attended to their duties, but they knew enough to leave him alone as remained standing still, staring at Derke.

As the activity began to falter and hushed voices became painful silence, no one noticed as a lone figure walked up onto the stage. The only announcement of his presence was the scrape of wood on wood as he set down the barstool he carried. All eyes turned to him, watching as he settled down onto the stool and lifted a guitar onto his knee. A few whispers broke out, "The Wizard." "It's him, the Wizard." The musician adjusted his spectacles and the guitar began to strum slowly, almost dirge-like. After a few bars, a gentle, almost hypnotic voice began to sing, "Where do we go from here? Where do we go from here? The battle's done and we kind of won…"

The crowd began to stir as the reality of what they had done crept in. They had won the battle. Derke was gone and his "friends" lost. People began to smile a little and feel good again. If anyone had been watching him, they would have seen Spike shiver and then raise his head and turn toward the stage, his first movement in hours. He stopped and stared intently at the singer who acknowledged him with a gentle smile and slight nod as he began the next verse, "Why is the path unclear? When we know home is near?"

Spike dropped his bat on the floor, strode toward the stage and pushed himself up to stand there, staring at the musician. "Understand we'll go hand in hand but we'll…," the music stopped. "Spike?" the older man lay his guitar down on the stage and rose to face the vampire.

"That song. Rupert?"

"No, no," he smiled. "Not here, m'boy. Here I'm Albert."

"Here? You mean, you know…you know 'bout Sunnydale and Buffy and all of it?"

Albert nodded. "Of course. It's my job. I know where you came from and," he reached down to where Jester, Botty and Kitty stood at the edge of the stage and helped them up as he continued, "who you met along the way," he turned back toward Spike, "what you've been…I understand…all of it."

"You'll help us then?" Spike asked. "Help us to what…what we came for?"

"Certainly." The Wizard smiled confidently and turned to Jester.

"So, you want to be a man?" All Jester could do was nod. Albert smiled. "Being a man is highly overrated. Men, and by 'men' I mean 'mankind itself', can be cruel, just as vicious as the monsters that were here today, even more so. Wars have been started because of men trying to prove they are men. Laughter, on the other hand, is highly underrated. I myself enjoy a good laugh at least twice a day, it's good for your cardiovascular and immune systems, you know. It inspires you to be optimistic and it makes people around you feel good too. You have a gift, son." Jester looked disappointed. "But that's not enough, is it?"

Jester shook his head slowly, "No, sir."

"Well then," Albert stepped to the rear of the stage and pulled open the heavy velvet drapes there to expose a mirror. It was nearly five feet in diameter and hung in mid-air. The mirror was old and had an elaborate gilded frame. The glass itself was foggy, damaged with age, and it refused to return an image. The Wizard stepped to the face of the mirror and waved a hand steadily across it. "Many times, we refuse to see ourselves for what we really are. We are hindered by self-doubt, low self-esteem, guilt. But here, see yourself for what you are."

Images of Jester's activities over the last two days appeared in the glass. His generous offer to bring Botty along with them on their trip. His discovery of Kitty within her fort. His help in sealing up their cave. The way he stayed outside the protective circle to fight the demons and his selflessness in helping others after the battle. "You see, Jester, I don't need to make you a man. You are one already." Jester's eyes shone brightly as Albert patted him on the shoulder and held out his hand to him. Jester grasped the Wizard's right hand and shook it firmly, standing taller.

The Wizard smiled and then turned, "Botty?"

The robot stepped toward the Wizard, "Yes?"

"You want a family,"

"Yes, sir. Very much."

"Now, of course, you, being a robot, can't have any 'real' family."

"I know," she admitted sadly.

"Families can be very hard. They are made up of people who are thrown together by fate of birth and who often think more of other people, outside their family. Family members will fight, argue, tease, nag, threaten, belittle, all in the name of love. But in the end, what it's about is having someone to care about and who cares about you, no matter what. Relatives comfort each other, help each other, offer kindnesses, fulfill roles and encourage each other."

As he was speaking, Albert waved his hand over the mirror again and images flashed forth of Botty letting Jester into the restaurant against the rules, staying with Jester when he couldn't keep up along the path, taking on the task of cutting through the thorns, comforting Spike when he'd wanted to join the hellhound pack, handing out coffee after the fight. "Botty, a family isn't just who you're related to, but who you relate to. Look around you. You already have what you wished for." Botty turned toward the crowd and was greeted with the most overwhelming sense of belonging. Each face smiled at her and voices called out to welcome her home. She covered her face behind her hands and cried for joy.

"How 'bout Kitty here?" Spike asked for the frightened woman.

Albert laughed. "Kitty, your wish is the easiest of all," and again he caused the images on the mirror to shift. "Fear is a good thing, Kitty. It keeps you alive, makes you aware of danger, real danger. And boldness isn't all it's cracked up to be. A bold man can still be a fool, in fact they often are. But valor, now that's something you don't find every day. Look, here."

The images became clearer, of Kitty defending her cave, crawling up the tunnel with her amulet to keep the hellhounds out, creating the passageway through the thorns, joining with the two witches to perform the protection spell. "See, Kitty, bravery isn't absence of fear, rather, it is the taking of necessary action in spite of your fear. And that kind of valor saves your friends and gives meaning to your life instead of posthumous honor."

The crowd joined Albert in a rousing round of "For She's A Jolly Good Fellow" and hip-hip-hurrah'd until Kitty absolutely glowed with pride.

Spike smiled as each of his companions discovered the truth about themselves, realizing all along that this Albert guy wasn't going to make him stop hurting. Bob had climbed up on stage with him and Spike reached down to pick him up. "Hey, fella. Thanks a lot for that back there." Spike ran his fingers over the rat's back and leaned on the proscenium of the stage as he wondered what would happen next.

---

PART 13

"What about Spike?" Botty asked Albert. "He certainly deserves his reward as well. He's sacrificed more than any of us.

"Have you?" Albert turned to ask Spike directly.

After a moment of silence, Spike shook his head. "No. I haven't sacrificed. Fact is that just like you, I found somethin' that I'd lost many years ago." Albert stood back to watch as Spike slipped Bob in his pocket and strode across the stage to the group. "I found myself. I've been a vampire for so long that it took shaking me out of my world for me to realize that I really wasn't one anymore. That part of me no longer rules my thoughts, or my emotions. My first instincts are no longer to kill, to feed, instead, they are…," he stumbled, looking for the words.

"…to help and befriend," Jester finished.

"…to care and encourage," Botty said.

"…to defend and comfort," Kitty added.

Spike was embarrassed now, but admitted, "Yeah. It's like the evil was never really me. The vampire stuff was just hidin' the re…." Spike nearly gasped as a thought came to him. "Is it possible, Albert? That I've gotten my soul back?"

Albert clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his feet, "Spike, that is something you never lost, it was always there. But you didn't believe that having it within your vampire persona was possible. None of us did, at least not in that world. And because you didn't believe it, you couldn't make Buffy believe it either." Then, as an afterthought he muttered, "No matter how much she wanted to."

Spike heard him though, "Hold it, Wizard. What d'you mean she wanted to? That woman hated me from the beginnin'. I stopped countin' how many times she tried to kill me. Then I got chipped and then, well, she tolerated me. 's all. She comes to me now but 'sn't outta love, 's self-loathin'. Comes to me cuz she wants to punish herself for bein' alive."

"Is that what you think, Spike? My God. You are as blind as she is. Watch," and the Wizard's hand swept lightly over the mirror's surface one more time.

The scenes that appeared this time were from Spike's past, in Sunnydale. Spike kneeling before Buffy, holding out a ring, Buffy sitting on his lap.

"Nope. Doesn't count, we were under a spell then."

"Oh, right. Sorry. We'll move on then."

The mirror went to static for a moment then cleared up again with Spike sitting next to Buffy on her back porch, his hand on her shoulder. Next scene, Spike sitting in his crypt, feet hanging over the side of his sarcophagus, face bloody and swollen, shirt torn, Buffy kissing him gently. The scenery shifts again and they're in the caverns below the city with Dawn. Spike remembered that day, when he'd admitted to Buffy that the pain he'd suffered by Glory's hand had been justified by love for the right person. Cut to the moment Buffy had come to Spike, asking him to drive the RV away from Glory. Spike recalled that she had actually asked. She'd been stressed and she'd needed someone, no, not someone, him. When she'd asked him to go with her to her house to prepare for Glory. When she'd invited him back into the house, into her life. The look on her face when she'd returned and he'd told her without hesitation that it'd been 147 days of hell without her. When she'd asked him to look at her finances. Her deer in the headlights look when she'd misunderstood his intentional "rough and tumble" comment in the basement of the Magic Box. Their first kiss. Mutual need. Mutual lust.

"Stop!" Spike screamed. "Stop it! Livin' through it was enough, now I have to watch the "previously on's"?"

"No, Spike. I told you, you're looking, but you're not seeing it. Keep watching."

He turned again toward the mirror and he saw himself slammed up against the wall in the entryway of the Summers' house, rain streaming in the door, Anya turning around, Dawn screaming. Buffy kneeling over him. Calling his name. Growing more agitated as he didn't answer.

In the background Anya wondered, "How do you tell if a vampire is unconscious or just...you know, dead, but not like usual?"

"I think one is dusty," Xander helped.

"Xander, can you carry him up to my room?" Buffy asked. "We can't just leave him down here until...who knows when."

"That's 'Xander'?" Jester giggled. The Wizard threw him a glance.

"Your room?! Wouldn't the basement floor do?"

"Xander, please?"

Spike watched as Xander begrudgingly did as he was asked. "Wanker," he commented. Jester giggled in the background and Spike's attention turned back to what was happening in the mirror.

Buffy followed them up the stairs. Xander dropped Spike's body down on Buffy's bed muttering about how somebody so skinny could weigh so much, and how Buffy'd have to burn the sheets. Then he stalked out of the room and down the stairs, but Buffy lingered. She pulled off Spike's Docs and set them on the floor then worked him out of his coat, hanging it carefully in her closet. She put pillows under his head and pulled the covers over him. Those tasks done, she turned the lights off and began to shut the door behind her, but then she hesitated and walked back into the darkened room. She walked to the bedside and stood there for a few moments.

"Buffy, are you okay?" called Dawn from downstairs.

"Fine. I'll be right down," she answered. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall of her room. After a moment she cleared her throat and began to talk, "It's nice to have you quiet for a while. Sometimes I think we can never talk without fighting. So now here's my chance to say something, I guess, while you're being all, well, "deader than usual". So here goes..." She stopped and took a breath "Spike, this thing between us isn't good. It was better before I...died. I mean, not so...physical, but there was more of a connection somehow. Now you and I we're...well, you know. I needed you to help me feel something and like always, you were there for me. So, now I do feel and what I feel is...well, I feel guilty because I screwed up "us". I used you and I hate what that's done to what we could have been. I know, you haven't complained. You wouldn't. But you'd have every right to." She sighed, "So, somebody's got to stop this lying, and I guess I have to be the strong one again."

Buffy turned to look at Spike's motionless face. "I'm going to call it off, break up with you for good as soon as you come around." Spike watched her in the mirror as she brushed tears from her cheeks. "But before I do, I want to tell you something, even if you can't hear me. No, wait. Who am I kidding? Probably because you can't hear me. I'd never be able to say this to you if you were awake. I want you to know that I've seen what you've become, how hard you try and how much you love me. I want you to know how much having you around has meant to me, how you made me happy again, made me laugh, made me care. In the end, I guess I do trust you, soul or not..."

"Buffy?" Dawn called again.

"Coming!" Buffy called out the open door. Then she turned back to Spike. She reached out and brushed a lock of unruly platinum blonde hair off his brow. Her fingertips stayed there, tracing the outlines of his brow, his face. She watched as though trying to memorize every line of his chiseled features, her hand caressed his cheek and lingered there for a moment then she stood. "One last thing you need to know, William," and bending over him, she kissed his unmoving lips tenderly, "somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you."

The emotion that ripped through Spike now was something that even the Ring of Amara could not protect him from and his knees could hold him no longer. He fell to the floor, his face in his hands.

"Ah," Albert acknowledged quietly. "But now," he stepped up to Spike, "Now, back to your wish to no longer be in lo..."

"No! Hold on!" Spike called desperately. He wiped away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and held onto the Wizard's arm with the other. "I want to…change…my wish. I want to go back home."

"Ah, well," the Wizard shook his head sadly. "That one I can't do,"

"What!?" Spike was desperate. After what he'd just seen, he knew where he belonged, where he needed to be. "There the bloody Wizard. There must be somethin' you can do!"

"If you don't mind, sir?" the red-headed witch offered, "We might know a way."

---

PART 14

The witches consulted with the Wizard and together they reached a solution they thought might work.

"I won't lie to you, boy, it's a bit risky." Spike could think of nothing he wouldn't risk for a chance to be back home. "Well, then, say your goodbyes and stand here in front of the mirror, then concentrate on your destination. We'll do the rest."

"Well, I guess this is it. I'm not one for long goodbyes so…," Spike shook Jester's hand and smiled softly as Kitty kissed him on the cheek. Then he looked at Botty, thinking back on what she'd told him and he smiled, "Off to find balance, then." She winked at him and he smiled again. Forcibly he shook off the emotion, dropped his eyes and turned quickly toward the mirror, "Right."

Moving to where he'd been directed, Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on Sunnydale, the Bronze, his crypt, the old high school. He remembered the mansion where he'd stayed with Dru and Angelus, the penthouse where Glory had lived, the Magic Box and Willy's. He thought of the Scoobies; Tara and Willow, Anya and even Xander, of Joyce whose memory still lived in her house, of Dawn whose laughter and trust thrilled him. And he thought of Buffy; her strength, her vulnerability, her smile, her kiss, her touch, her need for him and his for her. He thought of how he'd missed her the last couple of days and how he longed to tell her what he'd learned about people, about demons and about himself.

Those who were watching stared in wonder as the four magicians chanted and the mirror slowly became iridescent. Its surface began to shimmer and swirl like it was made of millions of different colored crystals, floating on a pool of heavy oil. Without opening his eyes, Spike raised his hand, allowing it to float over the shimmering surface. His hand began to tingle. He tensed slightly as he felt himself being pulled forward toward his own image in the mirror, and then he let his hand be moved to where something should have been, but wasn't. He would never be able to remember if he stepped through the mirror, or if the mirror engulfed him, but there was no sensation of falling or floating, no light, no dark, no time, nothing. Nothing except the images he carried with him of where he'd been and where he wanted to be.

After a while, there was a sensation of having lived, or maybe died, through this before. Then he felt something soft envelop him and the familiar crush of gravity once more. He smelled vanilla and laundry soap. He opened his eyes and where there had been nothing, there was…everything. And his everything slept curled up in a nearby chair, covered with a quilt and holding a stuffed pig. Spike took in his surroundings silently. He was laying on Buffy's bed, it was dark outside, nighttime. It was as though he'd never left. Everything was as it had been except there was a gentle, unfamiliar squeaking in the room. It took him a moment to realize it was Bob exercising in the hamster cage. Spike lifted his head and whispered, "Hiya fella. Guess we made it, huh?" He let his head drop back down onto the pillows and contemplated all that had happened. Buffy stirred and looked in his direction. She looked away slowly and shifted in her chair, then looked back at Spike again, quizzically. Then she jumped and screamed.

"Holy crap…Geez…I mean, damnit Spike you scared me! No, I mean, Wow! You're awake!"

A gentle smile crossed his lips.

Dawn, Tara and Willow came running through the open door to the room. "Buffy?! What's the matter?"

"He's awake!"

Spike raised a hand weakly. "Hi," he whispered hoarsely.

"Buffy," Willow asked, "you screamed. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that one minute I was sleeping next to a dead guy and the next he's staring at me. It was a little freaky."

Spike mustered a, "I resent that."

"Sounds like you're going to be fine," Tara commented with a grin and she and Willow went back to bed.

"Glad to see you, Spike," Dawn grinned.

"You too, l'il bit."

"Really?"

Spike nodded slowly. "Kinda didn't miss ya though. 'Cuz you were there too."

Dawn smiled uncertainly, "I was? Where?"

"Where I was. Yep, you and Red, Tara, the Watcher…everybody but big sis there."

"No Buffy, huh?" Dawn turned to her sister in time to see something like disappointment on her face.

It was quickly gone though as she countered smartly, "Good. I'm glad to know that you are, for once, NOT dreaming about me."

"Well, you weren't there, but it was all 'bout you, luv."

Buffy's eyes flashed with interest that Dawn couldn't miss.

"Tell me, Spike. How was it about Buffy?"

"Maybe we'd better let Spike rest now Dawnie," Buffy suggested, trying to scoot her younger sibling out of the room.

"No, I want to hear. I get to hear, because…," she looked around the room for a reason. "Because I took care of Bob."

"Bit's got a point there."

"Fine. Just…if it gets icky…well, just don't," Buffy acquiesced.

So Spike slowly told Dawn about his "dream"; about his trip through Oz, how they had defeated Derke and his companions got their wishes. "Didn't seem like a dream though. Seemed real."

"Spike, It's just like the Wizard of Oz! Except for the demons and the whole Angel/Derke thing."

"Odd ain't it?" he yawned.

Dawn wanted to hear the end. "So…?"

Spike looked at Dawn curiously, "So what?"

"So what did the Wizard pull out of his bag for you?"

Spike closed his eyes and remembered. "Well, I'm here, ain't I?" His eyes blinked drowsily as Dawn nodded. "You toddle off to bed now, niblet. I need some shut eye."

"Okay, Spike. Great story." Dawn started out of the room. "Glad you're back."

"Me too."

Dawn smiled and patted the doorjamb as she walked out into the hall. She practically skipped into her room before shutting the door behind her.

"What 're you starin' at?" Spike asked Buffy who was staring at him, arms folded skeptically. "Oh, you don't believe me."

"How'd you ever guess?" Buffy asked, her voice harsher than she'd planned.

Spike felt his eyes slipping shut again as he murmured, "'s fine. I know."

"Spike." The vampire's eyes opened to take in Xander standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at him. "Still dead I see."

With a small nod, Spike responded, "Harris." He looked around the room, the two of them were alone. "Where's she?"

"Buffy had to work, earn some dough…to pay for upkeep on certain "dead"-beats." He chuckled at his own pun.

"Hey, I've been…," then Spike stopped himself. "Yep. Much as I hate to admit it, you're right. Need to start payin' my own way."

Xander was taken aback. Had Spike just said something about being responsible? "Yeah, well. She left but she thought someone should stay with you…make sure you drift back in once in a…."

Spike's eyes closed heavily and Xander wondered what was different.

"So the storms turned out to just be storms…Hey, are you listening?"

Spike was lying quietly on the bed, listening to the witch who had been sitting in the room with him for the last couple of hours.

"Huh?" he managed. "Oh, yeah. Just storms." Willow gave him a cross look for not paying attention and went back to reviewing her research gathered about the path of the storm. "Red?" Spike called quietly.

"Yeah?" Willow answered vaguely. Making a point of paying little attention.

"What is it Buffy's lookin' for in a man? I mean, why not me?"

She looked at him and considered the question. "Well, there's the whole 'soulless vampire, scourge of Europe, tried to kill her and her friends' thing."

"Oh. Yeah." He thought for another moment. "Did I 'pologize to you for that?"

"No."

"Sorry."

Willow looked over at Spike. The day he attacked her but failed because of his chip, seemed so long ago now. The man before her now was not dangerous. Not that he was physically weak, that was coming back after this one day of rest, but he seemed to have internalized his strength somehow. Was it really possible that he'd changed? "Apology accepted." After a moment she added, "Getting knocked out did you a lot of good."

"Yeah, well, when your head's as thick as mine, seems it takes a lot to beat some sense in." Spike turned his eyes to the ceiling and swallowed. After a moment he asked, "Red?"

Willow smiled. She couldn't remember any time when Spike had seemed so pensive. Almost not wanting to disturb his thoughts she answered quietly, "Hmmm?"

"Do you 'spose she'd forgive me too?"

Willow hid her surprise. "I…I don't know. She might, but she's 'The Chosen One' and all. It'd be hard for her to forget those responsibilities. You know?"

"Doubt I could forget them any more than she can."

Watching him drift off to sleep once more, Willow was stunned to find herself wondering if Buffy and Spike were such a terrible match after all.

---

PART 15

"Spike?" the voice called him to awaken once more. "Spike." It enticed him to consciousness and he opened his eyes. "Spike, are you awake?"

The room was dark but the curtains were open, allowing soft starlight in the room and Buffy's voice called to him. "Buffy?" he whispered back, still not sure if she were really there or not. He searched the dark and finally saw her sitting in her chair, her knees drawn up in front of her. "What is it? Is there trouble?"

There was silence once more and Spike was beginning to think his imagination was getting the better of him when she spoke again. "I've been thinking…." She stopped, unsure of how to say what she'd planned so long ago. After a few moments, she began again. "William, I…we need to stop this."

"Buf…."

"No, we really do. I've been…"

"…using me?" he finished and he saw as she nodded her head deeply. "It's okay, luv. Really."

"No, it can't be. It's not fair, it's not…it'll never be right."

"C'mon over here, Buffy and sit down on the bed." Hesitantly, Buffy did as requested. "Pet, I know you feel guilty. But don't," Spike sat up to look her in the eyes. "'cuz, I've been using you too. But what I did was…worse."

"Worse?" Buffy's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah. Worse 'cuz I loved you. I loved you with all my heart, but I went ahead and used you anyway, in ways I didn't even realize. 'n now I know. I was usin' you to forget I was…well, what I am. Usin' you to make me feel human again. Usin' your need to make me feel like I'd finally won our war."

Buffy was silent for a moment, thinking. "Spike, even if that's true, you didn't know. It was unintentional. But I've always known what you are and how you feel. You may have had your bad moments, but I…well, I started this. It's my fault. So now, I have to be the one to call it off."

Lowering his head, Spike spoke softly, "Pet, I learned a lot the last two days. Learned a lot 'bout m'self." He looked at her, waiting for her to interrupt, but for once she didn't. "I found out that I've been lyin'; to m'self, to you, to all of you. I kept sayin' that if it weren't for the chip, or for bein' in helplessly love with you, I'd be all 'bout bein' bad again. But that hasn't been true, not really, not for a long time." Buffy was hardly breathing, listening intently.

"I don't know why, luv, but I've been given a gift, an understandin'. Suddenly, I discovered that I'm not who I've been for the last 120 years, or even the 26 before that." Spike paused, waiting to see Buffy's reaction and feel his own to the truth. "While I was in Oz…I mean, knocked out, I remembered a lot of things about being human. Like I remembered by own l'il sis, Nancy. Haven't thought of her since…since Dru…well.…" He paused to clear his throat. "I remembered what it was like to feel the warmth of the sun, to have friends, to have people care about you, who depend on you and who you depend on. Hell, even Bob there played a part in getting' me back. And I realized that that's what was missin'…me. Not me, the vampire, not me the Bad Ass demon killer, not me who's totally lost in you, but me…the man I could've been, the man I should have been." He reached out and gently turned her face toward his. His eyes narrowed with concern as tears fell from her eyes.

Buffy looked Spike for a long while with wide eyes full of longing. She finally managed, "But…you can't. You're a demon, a vampire. You don't even have a soul."

"I'm goin' to regret my past for a long time, but can't erase what I've done, luv. But you're wrong about one thing. I do have a soul. I know I do, because I finally…get it." He brushed her cheeks dry with his hand. "I realized Buffy, that bein' a man isn't somethin' others can define for me. I've gotta accomplish all by myself. No one 'cept me can fashion me into one. And the most surprisin' thin' 'bout it is…," he paused, "I don't even need your help to do it…" Buffy couldn't speak. She was seeing something new in Spike that struck at her very core.

After a moment, he continued, "It would be nice, though, luv, for you to be there to see how it comes out. 'Cuz…don't get me wrong, what we have right now has been…well…very satisfyin', but if we're strong enough to let ourselves just be…learn to be a man and a woman in love with each other, it'd…, Buffy, it'd be amazin'." He let his hand fall from her face and held her gaze as long as she let him.

Buffy turned away, trembling, knowing something immense was happening. "So, now what?"

"Well, question is, can we forget about our past and start over. Can we rediscover best parts of our selves and learn to love each other after everythin', after all this time and…." he couldn't finish. He'd asked too much.

He sat in the cold, darkness of the room.

And then he felt Buffy turn to him and, then her warm hand touched his cheek. She held it there like she had in his vision in the Wizard's mirror. He was afraid to move, to shatter the fragile silence. "William," Buffy said his name gently, quietly. "I don't know if we can... There's been so much…damage."

Spike nodded, sliding his hand over hers and pressing his cheek into her palm, reveling in her touch for what he was sure was the last time.

Buffy turned away. "I wish…," but upon hearing the word, she realized that, in fact, wishes had nothing to do with where they now stood. This precipice was all about decisions and choices; the kind that last. She looked into his eyes again, and Buffy saw the future. It stared back at her with loving, clear-blue eyes and she decided.

Taking a deep breath, she started, "You and I, we're nothing if not strong. If anybody can…." Spike felt a glimmer, no, more, a fireball of hope surge through him. "My God, William, I look into your eyes and I see who you are about to be…and it takes my breath away. I do want to be there for you, with you…." Then, her voice left her, words weren't enough anyway.

Spike felt her leaning toward him, her arms sliding softly around him. He took Buffy in his arms and then they were kissing, kissing as though it were the first time, as though they'd been kissing forever. And it was amazing.

The next morning, Buffy rolled over to check her clock. 7:15. She stretched and felt a cool, strong body next to her. She smiled and turned to look at Spike, or no, her lover William, who was still asleep. Buffy smiled to herself as her body snuggled next to his, her hand resting on his chest. He stirred. "Good morning," she purred, planting a kiss on his shoulder. He didn't turn, but she watched as a smile washed across his face, turning the young, child-like face of sleep to the contented look of the man she loved.

"Time to get Dawn off to school?" he murmured.

"Uh huh," she answered, unmoving, watching him transfixed.

"I'll go," Spike offered.

"No, I will. You just…SPIKE!"

"What!" he sat up suddenly, nearly tossing her on the floor.

"The curtains! I forgot! Sunshine!"

Spike flinched automatically. But as it dawned on him that the dappled sunlight that had fallen across the bed was causing him no pain, he began to laugh. He held out his hand, "Buffy, it's alright. See?"

Buffy looked incredulously. "Wha…," she began.

"Seems I brought back a little memento of Oz with me," and Spike held out his hand for Buffy to examine the ring on his thumb.

FIN

---

CREDITS:

Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, UPN, et. al.

The Wizard of Oz – L. Frank Baum, 1899

Scrabble Crossword Game is product of Milton Bradley

A/N: Thanks be to beta's!

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Pairing: B/S

Parts: 15