Title: Pleasure Pains

Author: JayBee

Rating: R for language and mention of adult situations

Category: Buffy/Spike 'ship

Setting/Spoilers: Post-"Crush"

Summary: Spike finds a loophole for Mr. Chip. Wackiness ensues.

Feedback: R&R and I'll be your friend FOREVER :oD jaybee_bug@yahoo.com

Distribution Statement: Sharing fanfic makes the world go 'round. :) Just make sure my name & e-mail stay attached and drop me a line if you can.

Disclaimer: All together now! Joss Whedon owns Buffy and friends, doo-dah, doo-dah. Joss Whedon owns Buffy and friends, Oh-doo-dah-day.

Dedication: Thanx goes out to Pandora for helping me get unstuck from my writer's block. ;)

A/N: In my world, there's no Glory, nobody's mum has died, and Spike's … ohwait, nevermind, Spike's already perfect. *grin*

Ahem. The library is owned by Giles like in the old seasons even though this takes place in S5. And the training room is connected to it. That's all ya need to know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You make me sick
I want you and I'm hatin' it
Got me lit like a candlestick
Get too hot when you touch the tip
I'm feelin' it
I've gotta get a grip
And it's drivin' me crazy
Baby don't you quit
Can't get enough of it
You got me goin' again
Baby, you got me goin' again
You make me sick – Pink, "You Make Me Sick"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One

Andrew Snyder wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the floor and croak.

He gazed desolately around the slummy, poorly lit bar he was in. The young man had just broken up with his girlfriend and was feeling crappier than he ever had in his entire life.

He would have committed suicide, but he really didn't have the balls to. So instead he came here to try and drink away his woes, like so many other people were doing.

It wasn't working, though. Even though he was well drunk by now, the seething pain still burned just as fiercely inside him. Nothing seemed to work.

As the bartender passed, Andrew tapped his glass, and mumbled, "Gimmie another one, "

The bartender gave him a suspicious look as he glanced at the row of empty shot glasses Andrew had collected. "Don't gimme that 'you've had enough' crap, please. Not tonight. "

The bartender sighed in admission. "Right, sure. Just don't go threatenin' to rip my throat out like that other bloke, " he grunted as he shuffled off to get the drink.

Andrew looked about at the bartender's statement, and spotted the guy he must have been referring to.

Sitting two stools away was a guy with a collection of empty shot glasses that could put Andrew's number to shame. He couldn't see his face, because he was slumped over, nursing a half-glass of alcohol, but his bleached hair made him hard to miss.

The bartender was working his way around with drinks, and set Andrew's drink in front of him. Andrew watched as he moved on to carefully set down another by his neighbor.

The guy hardly even looked up to acknowledge him, just kept gazing into his half-empty glass.

Then he seemed to snap out of his daze, and downing the rest of the glass in his hand, snatched up the new glass to down as well. He tapped the glass on the bar.

"N'other, " he mumbled.

The bartender looked nervous. "Ah…"

"I said, " the guy growled, leaning on the bar to glare with venomous blue eyes,

"Another. "

The bartender, of course, moved off quickly to do his bidding.

Andrew downed his own drink, deciding that maybe number 32 was his lucky number.

Many hours and many, many drinks later, Andrew decided to give up. The world was fuzzy and spindling, but the pain was as clear as a photograph.

He glanced back over to his neighbor, who seemed to have called it quits as well, with the same disappointing results.

"Musta been some bitch that screwed you over so good, " Andrew mumbled practically incoherently. He was surprised to see the guy next to him actually heard. He glanced up with very drifting looking eyes.

"Yeah, " he agreed. "Definitely some bitch. "

Andrew nodded in understanding. "Me too, " he said,

"They say you can forget when you drink. Dulls the pain. "

The guy chuckled.

"It used to work for me, you know. Not this time, " Andrew said, shaking his head.

"This time . . . it hurts just as much as when I started. "

The guy was slowly turning an empty glass in his fingers, gazing into it, as if it held the secrets to the world in there.

"Nah. If a girl screws you up bad enough, not even the good bottle is your friend anymore. " He said, with a slurring British accent.

Andrew stared blankly across the room, his drifting mind mulling things over. They say drinking confuses a man, but sometimes it felt like it gave Andrew sudden clarity in his thinking. He suddenly understood.

"There's nothing left, that's why. When you don't got a drop left in you, not even a notion of a reason left for livin'. Nothing for drinkin' to bring out for you. "

The guy seemed to not hear him, or at least wasn't paying attention, because he was still hypnotized by his shot glass. But Andrew didn't care, he was busy rambling.

"The only thing left is the pain. That's all you're livin' for. "

His foggy mind made a connection.

"Hey, that sounds like a good idea. You do me a favor, will ya? " he asked. The guy looked back up at him.

"Just slug me 'cross the face, yeah? If you can black me out that'd be even better. "

The guy sighed, seemingly amused by his request. "Sorry, pal. I don't do those kinds of favors. "

"C'mon, man, have a little mercy for a guy. It's not that hard. "

"You don't get it. I really don't do those things. I'd love to, really-"

Spike stopped in mid-sentence, the drunkard still watching him expectedly.

"Oh, what the hell, " he said, changing his mind. "I could use a bit of pain too. "

So he brought his fist back and slugged the guy hard in the jaw, causing him to topple backwards off his stool. He grit his teeth and waited for the searing pain to come afterwards.

The people in the bar hardly seemed to give the commotion a sideways glance. The only person concerned over it was the bartender shuffling over.

"Hey, " he barked at the jackass who had been trying to drink him out of home that night. But the guy was just staring blankly at the drunkard he just punched out.

"It didn't hurt, " Spike was saying with complete shock. "It didn't hurt! "

The bartender laughed. "Probably sure as hell hurt him, " he said, glancing at the guy knocked out on the floor. "It's time you moved along now. "

Spike allowed the bartender to lead him to the door, too dazed and surprised to react.

It didn't hurt?

Well. This changes everything.

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

Buffy Summers grit her teeth together, creating a creaky sound similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. In made her wince but she didn't care-- she was sick of this.

Page after page of tedious, repetitive math homework-- Jesus! Did they want her to go insane?

As if she didn't have enough to worry about-- already behind in her English paper, her being the world's only sole hope for protection from evil, her sister who wouldn't just *scram* and let her work, oh, and her arch enemy whom she loathed just declared his love for her . . .

Well, those are not listed in any particular order, mind you . . .

But to top it all off, the math teacher decided that today was the day to assign extra work on dividing fractions.

Buffy gazed out the window with disdain. Such a beautiful day, too. She should be spending it relaxing, hanging out with her friends or whatever. She didn't deserve this.

"Dawn, amscray! I got a lot of work to do. " Buffy snapped when her sister had drifted into the room again. She shot her a deadly look.

"It's a free country. I'll come in here if I want. "

Buffy sighed with irritation, deciding she probably should move her work into her room again rather than the living room. She just had gotten so stuffy up there, and needed the change of scenery . . .

"Dawn, please, this is imperative for my math grade. " Buffy tried to reason with her.

Her sister snorted, and plopped down on the couch.

Ugh. If only she could come up with a de-invite spell on her . . .

Wait. No-- don't even mention anything close to him. Buffy was ticked off enough as it is. Didn't need to add any fuel to the fire.

"You're not even doing math, " her sister commented snippily. Buffy glanced at Dawn and then to her math paper.

True, she had started to mindlessly doodle things at the corner of her paper--

"Dawn, just go away. " Buffy snapped back with irritation.

Dawn rolled her eyes and ambled out of the room. "You don't have to be so touchy. " She muttered as she left.

"I'm not being touchy! " Buffy called back, but Dawn was out of hearing range anyway.

She sighed and slouched back down, staring blankly at the sheet in front of her.

"Hmm, " she mumbled, musing over the doodle in the corner of the page. What exactly was she trying to make? It sort of looked like a face . . . yeah. Eyes, fangs . . . Jesus. She had demons on her subconscious. Just perfect.

She dully sketched away at the face, not thrilled at the idea of going back to math just yet. Made the fangs longer, sharper . . .

Dawn poked her head back into the room, "Buffy, when are you--"

She found her now completely enthralled in her doodle. She sighed and bounced back on the couch, leaning over her shoulder to get a better look at it.

"Dawn, what are you doing--"

"What's that supposed to be? "

Buffy wrinkled her nose at her. "I thought I told you to go away. "

"Looks like somebody's been daydreaming, " Dawn said suggestively, grinning and wagging her eyebrows.

"Dawn, I told you to go-- what? " Buffy said, suddenly connecting what her sister had said.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't play stupid. " She said, nodding to her paper. Buffy just glared at her.

"Out! Out! Out! " she shooed her off, which thankfully wasn't too difficult.

She plopped yet *again* back on the couch, her brow furrowed in confusion. What had her sister been goin' on about?

Glancing back down at her paper, she inspected the doodle she had been working on.

"Oh, my God, " she said with disbelief.

It bore a striking resemblance to Spike.

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

"That's it, Pet. Just a little bit closer, " the vampire muttered, proudly wearing his game face.

Spike was in a dark back alley-- one of his *former* favorite hunting grounds for nights he didn't feel like doing much work. He would just sit here and if patient enough, somebody was bound to walk by sooner or later on their way from their late-night job to their car . . .

You see, this vampire had a test to conduct. After his miraculous revelation in the bar.

And this young lady was to be his guinea pig.

The brunette had a charcoal business suit on with maroon high-heels that clacked loudly on the blacktop as she made her way quickly through the alley. She kept looking nervously over her shoulder, obviously not comfortable with the location. Spike smiled from his vantage point. He missed this. The wait before the kill.

The woman's shrill scream was cut short as Spike leapt out and grabbed her, covering her mouth. She struggled and squirmed wildly.

"C'mon, dear, let's behave, " the vampire murmured assuringly as he tried to hold her still.

"Don't make this any harder for yourself. " He said, in a slightly more dangerous tone. She suddenly stopped struggling, closing her eyes and shuttering in fear. Apparently it had just dawned on her that she most likely wasn't going to see the sun rise by morning.

"That's it then? Suit yourself, " he said, disappointed that she had given up so quickly, but aah well. He lowered his fangs to her neck and hungrily sunk them in, as she let out another muffled scream.

Ooh. It was heavenly for his sensitive canines to tap into a live artery again. He could still feel her pulse beating, reverberating through his teeth-it was so warm, so wonderful . . . . .

Spike yelped in pain, jerking away from the woman as the electricity he was so familiar with now leapt through his body.

The woman fell with a startled cry, and stumbled as she tried to get to her feet, moaning in fear.

Spike had fallen back against the wall and he now numbly rubbed his temples, still wincing at the terrible pain that had just hit him like a bolt of lighting. As he tried to shake himself out of his disoriented state, the woman made a clumsy escape.

"Bloody hell, " he cursed bitterly. What was going on here? He had punched that guy out and felt nothing. But now it was back again.

Spike licked his blood-tipped fangs longingly. So close. Damn it. This didn't make any sense at all.

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

It had been about a week since Spike attempted to feed from the young lady in the alley. He had spent most of the time pacing back and forth in his crypt, thinking about things over and over. He hadn't been outside in days.

But today he made his decision. Nervously drawing from his cigarette, Spike was pretty sure he understood things now. He would find out tonight.

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

Cruising a bar, a different one this time, albeit equally as slummy, Spike kept his eye out for drunkards. This bar happened to be a human/demon bar. He nervously flickered his eyes over the tables of vampires, trying to act inconspicuous. Not many of his fellow demons were fond of him anymore. In fact, they usually tried to beat him up or kill him.

He decided to take a seat by the bar so he could sit and observe that way.

After a lot of watching and listening and a couple of drinks for himself (hell, might as well), Spike decided to talk to one of the drunkards that seemed especially low and depressed. He smoothly ambled over and sat down next to the not-quite-middle-aged woman.

She took no notice of his actions, too busied with the glass of vodka, swirling it dully with her finger.

"Hey, pet. You're not looking so good. " Spike murmured to her with a sly smile.

She looked up dully. "I'm not. " She answered simply.

A few minutes later, with some smooth-talk, Spike had convinced the woman to step outside with him so he could help end her pain.

"Now you sure about this? "

The woman nodded. "Yeah. Fine, whatever. Just sock me right in the kisser. "

Spike grinned. "Gladly. "

WHAP!

As she toppled backwards at the blow, Spike howled in triumph.

"Yes! It works! "

His theory was correct. As long as the person wanted to get hurt, he could hurt them.

"Want another? " he asked, grinning, waning to make absolute certain this was true.

"Sure…" the woman mumbled, already halfway to being unconscious.

His courage raising, the vampire gave this one all he got, completely flooring the woman. He cackled again.

Then he hungrily grabbed the unconscious human and proceeded to sink his fangs into her jugular--

"OW! Damnit! " he spat, literally spitting out the human in his teeth. The shock in his head was there again. He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling.

"All right then . . ." he muttered, starting to pace in the alley by the bar, scratching his chin.

"I can sock her in the face, but I can't feed on her . . ."

He snapped his fingers. "Of course. She doesn't want to die. Just wants to get wasted an' knocked out. "

He looked down at her crumpled forum. "Thanks. You've been very useful, " he said, and smiling, walked away.

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

The question was, of course, what use this new information could possibly serve for him. He went back to brainstorming in his crypt.

"So, what, I wait for people in bars to get depressed enough to let a toddler beat their lights out, and then swoop in on them? Doesn't sound like the life to me, " he said sharply to himself.

"Maybe I'll put an ad in the paper. " He said, shaking his head. "Feeling gloomy? Want to loose your soddin' life? I'll gladly take that off your hands, no charge. "

He dropped his used cigarette on the floor and stomped it out.

"Atch, this is pointless. There's no use in hunting if your prey has no fear. This doesn't get me anywhere. "

Better than drinking your blood out of bottles, his mind countered. At least you'd be feeding like a real vampire does.

He no longer felt like a real vampire, no. He didn't belong anywhere. He couldn't hunt-- the sole reason for a vampire's existence-- and he had to avoid all other demons, his own kind-- and yet he most definitely was not part of the living world, either.

The vampire growled, angrily letting the frustrated thoughts flicker through his head. Then after a while of sitting there blankly, a notion came to him.

Maybe there was more to this than he realized. Maybe he needed to try some more experiments, memorize the limits and rules. Maybe he could find a way to twist and manipulate this malfunction or whatever it was to make it work for his advantage. Learn to live this way.

He was gonna find a way to make this work, somehow-he really had little alternative.

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

Over time, Spike experimented with his newfound discovery, making sure to space out his 'experiments' over the course of a few days intermission so as not to draw attention to himself by his fellow demons. It didn't take long for him to learn things-- it was quite simple, really. He could harm another as long as the person truly wanted it. A person could say they wanted it, but they didn't really, and so it still hurt when Spike tried to pound them. Spike started to learn to talk to people and figure out if they were lying or not-- soon he could pick out the truly screwed up ones from the ones just having a bad day within mere minutes, by the blank look in their eyes, their total lack of energy left for life. It was pretty easy because those poor blokes reminded Spike of himself.

But there was a catch, as he expected. Almost all of these people, no madder how despondent or pathetic, didn't truly want to die. They still had some scrap of desire within them to live. So although over time Spike was able to pick out his targets with perfection and whip the crap out of them, he could not, try as he might, find somebody sad enough to feed on. It was frustrating, but every day he felt closer to obtaining his goal as he got better and better at identifying people and manipulating them by talking to them, convincing them for his benefit. There were different degrees, you see, of dejected people-- of course, the worse off they are emotionally, the more damage Spike could do without harm to himself. Once he started crossing the line of a person's limit, he could feel the tingly sensation of the electric shock threatening to return. He learned restraint and would take it as far as he could, and than called it off as soon as he detected the warning.

Each time he was able to get closer and closer to the bulls' eye.

At last, one night he finally found what seemed to be his guy. Somebody with a true death wish. Spike got far enough along that this time he had sunk his fangs in and had been feeding for a couple minutes before the jolt came. Too preoccupied with feeding, the thrill of being able to drink living blood again, he hadn't detected the warning signs and so the shock came like a kick in the face.

Growling angrily, he tried again to finish were he left off, but nope-- Mr. Chip shocked him again. He stomped off, bloodthirst still unquenched.

Pacing again in his crypt, were he had spent quite a lot of time lately thinking about his puzzle, Spike decided that it was hopeless. He could beat up on already pathetic humans. Big deal. He couldn't even kill any of them. All this work was for nothing.

As desolate as the humans he had been stalking the past few weeks, the vampire retreated down into the cellar of his crypt, and sat on the floor in the dark.

Facing his little shrine, which he had to reconstruct ever since Buffy had punched him into it, he started to speak out loud.

"It's all pointless. " He said, shaking his head. He hadn't been thinking much about her the past few weeks, which was probably for the better, considering how pissed off she was. He truly had hoped for being able to live a relatively normal vampiric life again. But he saw now how pointless that was.

He supposed he was able to push his obsession away for a time because of this hope. Maybe Dru was right. Maybe he could find a way to keep this tinker-toy from stopping him. She knew so many things. Before, he had thought she was just being desperate and foolish-- no amount of bloodlust could bring back his ability to hunt. But then-- it seemed like he had a chance.

Not anymore, though. He was never going to get the bloody chip out of his head. Never was going to escape it's burning, wicked torment.

Spike mindlessly stroked a tattered photograph of the blonde Slayer. "Only you now, " he muttered. She was all he was living his undead life for now.

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

Buffy shuttered as a creepy, cold sensation suddenly prickled her skin.

"What is it, Buf? "

She glanced at Willow. The two friends were on a "Extra-early-spring-clothing-shopping-spree", which Buffy had to of course do a lot of talking and convincing to drag Willow along on.

"Dunno. Felt like somebody just walked over my grave. "

"That doesn't mean we get to leave early, does it? " she asked hopefully.

Buffy smiled. "We're not through with yet. "

"Well, can't blame a girl for trying. "

~

"Moooom! I'm home. " Buffy said, trumping upstairs to her room with many bags in hand. Willow had to leave, but Buffy made her *promise* to actually try on the clothes she'd gotten for her later.

Dumping her load in her room, she peeked out into the hallway. "Mom? "

That's weird. She said she had a lot of weekend chores to catch up on around the house. Wonder were she is.

Buffy went back downstairs to pull a soda out of the fridge and glanced out the front window. Yep, car's still here.

"Buffy, " Joyce said in a scolding tone, appearing out of nowhere,

"I'd really like it if you let me know when you take Dawn out. It worries me when you don't tell me. "

Buffy raised a brow. "But, mom, I didn't. I just went out with Willow. "

"Wait. You're saying Dawn isn't with you? "

Buffy sighed, plunking down on a chair. "Great. Not again. " She grumbled.

~

While her mom was checking all the usual places-The Magic Box, school, her friend's houses, Buffy didn't even bother with those. She knew 98% of the time when her sister ran off were she'd be.

The one place she dreaded going to. And with the one person she really would rather avoid for the rest of her life. She had been furious at him and it had taken her a long time to just forget about it and assume if she ignored him long enough, he'd go away. Snap out of it.

It had been a few weeks now, and she had seen nothing of him, which was good. Maybe he had finally given up. She really hoped he was back to his whiny, rotten self, anyway.

Buffy laughed at that thought. Actually wanting him to be whiny and annoying again.

The Slayer paused at the entrance to Spike's crypt. She sure as hell wasn't going to tap on his door and politely ask if he'd seen Dawn. There was only one way to enter his crypt, and that was the usual . . .

~

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

It was probably around 6:00 PM or so, and obviously Spike was still asleep. Laying flat on his back on his couch, actually, with just a pair of worn black jeans on, snoring blissfully away as the TV crackled in the background.

A loud WHAM! announced the fact that somebody just slammed open the door. Late evening sunlight poured into the room, and thankfully for Spike, stopping just before it reached the couch.

"Spike! Were is she? ! I know she's around here somewhere! "

He groaned, still just coming to his senses, and saw a very pissed-off Slayer who helped herself in and was searching the place.

"Hey! What the bloody hell are you talking--"

"Dawn, I'm talking about Dawn, you moron. What do you think? ! Were is she? "

He blinked, for a moment still disoriented, but then understood the situation.

"Why do you have to go an' blame me every time your damn little sister goes missing? She's not here. "

He shifted to a sitting position and fished around on the floor for were ever it was he left his shirt . . .

"You just couldn't stand another minute without laying eyes on me, huh? " he muttered, annoyed at being woken up, even if it was by the Slayer.

Turned out that was a big mistake. Apparently the Slayer was not in the best of moods.

Because the next thing he knew she had battered his confused ass to the floor and wood was threatening to bite into his heart.

"Hey--" he started to protest, but she yelled in his face.

"No! Don't you smart-allec me, Spike! You just keep your mouth shut and thank God that I bother keeping you around! "

He looked at her, stunned. "What? ! Keep me around? ! What the hell is wrong with you, Summers? ! Why not do it, right now, huh? "

Her eyes burned malice into his. "I swear I would of, Spike, and I should of when I had the chance. But now there's no point. There's no satisfaction in killing something helpless. "

The vampire stared back and seemed to have an epiphany. He drew his fist back and punched Buffy right in the face, sending her staggering backwards.

She recovered from the blow and just stared blankly back at him, a very confused look on her face. "How did you . . .? "

"I can't believe this, " he proclaimed, a smirk returning to his features.

"You wanted that! "

She looked at him like he had just spoken Latin.

"How in the hell did you just do that? " she repeated.

"I did it, " he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone as she circled around her--

"Because you wanted me to. "

He dodged as she made to kick him, and whipping about, landed a few more well-placed punches at her.

She still seemed shocked at the fact that he could fight back.

"Did you get the chip out? ! " she demanded.

He smiled sweetly. "Wouldn't you like to know? "

This time she moved to avoid as he came at her again, and tried her best to knock him down, not yet making use of the stake in her hand. He swiftly side-stepped her and knocked her back, though.

"Either you did or you didn't! Unless it's broken or something. " She shouted. He shrugged at her. "Tell me! "

"Make me, " he mocked, and she gladly obliged, driving at him again.

After a few more moves, Buffy had knocked the vampire backwards onto his couch again. They both froze, staring at each other in a tense stand-off.

Buffy decided it would be best to not make any hasty decisions on slaying a particular vampire, in case this was of interest to her friends or anyone else. "Look, I don't have time for this. I got a sister to find, " she said, waving her hands as if in truce.

He glared at her. "This isn't over with, Slayer. "

She nodded to agree. "You're right. Not by a long shot. But now's not the time. "

And she turned and left.

Spike just laid there on the couch in the same position, thinking hard about what just happened.

Buffy wanted Spike to hurt her.

She had said there was no satisfaction in killing something helpless.

Was that it, then? She just wanted a good fight with him before she took him out?

That sounded so cruel and impersonal. But Slayers don't usually work that way, Spike thought. They don't lust after violence like vampires do.

Maybe . . .

He bit his knuckle at the thought.

Maybe she missed the fight between them. The battle they had kept up for so long. The tension.

The heat.

He could taste his own blood as his thoughts drove him deeper and deeper into that little fantasy, that tiny shard of hope. Oh, yes. He was beginning to like this theory.

He was going to have to test that one.

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

*She bangs, she bangs,

She moves, she moves--

I go crazy 'cuz she looks like a flower, but she stings like a bee--

Like every girl in his-tor-ee. *

"OW! Hey, what was that for? "

Xander protested loudly when Buffy yanked his headphones off. She looked like she was about to say something, but then she glanced at the headphones in her hand, gave him an odd look and put them on herself.

"Xander! " she gasped, tugging the phones off and holding them away from her face like some disgusting object.

"I know you've been trying new things out lately, but Ricky Martin? ! "

He snatched them away from her grip. "It's the radio, Buffy. I was waiting for the next song. Now what gave you the right to violate my headphones? "

She smirked at his annoyed question, but tried to get a serious expression again.

"Ahem, well…guess who's back in business? "

Putting his phones back on, Xander leaned back in his chair and appeared deep in thought.

"Hmmmmm…. . "

"You're not listening. "

"Yea I am. I'm just thinking. "

Buffy sighed, not in the mood for games.

"I'll give you a clue. He's a complete and total moron and I can't wait to whip his butt down to Hell once I get an OK from Giles. "

"So are we talking about an utterly and totally pathetic guy or just a miserable piece of scum who hardly deserves the attention span to get killed? "

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him, confused at her options. "Er…. "

He shook his head, "Doesn't matter, both of those would point to the most obnoxious vampire on the block, am I right? "

"And the boy wins a cigar! "

Xander grinned. "All right. We should play this game more often, huh? "

"C'mon. We gotta let everyone know, " she said, all ready on her way out the door, tired of talking and wanting some action.

"Hey! Wait for me! I'm sure he'll still be sulkin' around if you wait a few minutes longer! "

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

Buffy Summers was pumped.

It was Sunday evening, and unlike most normal teenagers who planned to see a movie with their friends or whatever, she was planning on a very special date with her long-time adversary . . .

A date consisting of her, Spike, and a very long wooden stake . . .

The experienced Slayer geared up carefully, concealing several wooden stakes throughout her body-- one under her sleeve, two stashed in the belt straps on her jeans, etc., and she picked out a few more shiny toys from her arsenal before taking off into the warm winter evening.

She had informed the gang of Spike's newfound ability to do harm to humans, and the vote had been unanimous-- no need to keep him alive. Best to smite him now before he set about wrecking havoc upon Sunnydale, like he had proven to do so well in the past.

Buffy had insisted on doing this alone. It had taken some convincing before the Watcher finally gave in to her requests. She had imagined this time coming for quite a while, and now that it was here, she wanted it done right.

Most of all, she wanted to do it. She had a seething hatred for the vampire and was looking very much forward to ending their battle, once and for all. She would pop in and kick his ass a bit, then stake him before he knew what hit him.

Buffy put a spry bounce in her step and cackled to herself. It was silly, really, being so psyched, but she was gonna do some serious slaying tonight.

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

Spike knew she wouldn't rest long. Not with the knowledge burning a hole in her head that the vampire could now defend himself again and she had good reason to slay him.

He didn't know when or were she'd try to attack, but he had a strange feeling of anticipation tonight. He just felt like this was the time. He was smiling like a Cheshire cat to himself as he readied for her arrival.

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

The Slayer's instincts kicked in-- warning, as she approached the vampire's lair. It was far too quiet around here. He had been expecting her. He would try to catch her by surprise. She scanned her surroundings viciously, not wanting to fall into any trap. She had to keep reminding herself he wasn't helpless anymore . . . at least, she didn't think so . . .

Finally feeling satisfied with her knowledge of the area, she slowly opened the door to his crypt. It was the first time she hadn't kicked the thing in and it squealed insanely, as if wanting to pay her back for all the months of abuse.

Well, there goes my element of surprise, she thought as she gazed into the dark, muggy room. It seemed to of been lit by his candles for her convenience, as obviously vampires could see perfectly well without them.

Buffy was growing more and more annoyed by how this seemed set up by him rather than her. Maybe her stake-em-before-he-knows-what-hit-em' plan wasn't so great after all. Maybe she was a little too psyched over being able to fight him again . . .

But the musky, eerily lit room seemed to draw her in. She leaned in the doorway to get a better look-- aah, what the Hell. She cautiously entered.

The air outside was warm because it was a warm night, and the air in here was even hotter. Buffy was glad she wore a tanktop even though that exposed more skin to get cut . . .

She rolled her eyes about the room like a hunter searching for it's prey. She knew he was in here somewhere and he'd be cornered. But it was a position he was voluntarily placing himself in. The question was, of course, when he was cornered, who it was more dangerous for . . .

"Glad to see you could make it, Luv. "

She whipped about to see him in his usual attire, black duster slung over a t-shirt, hands shoved casually into his jeans pockets. Jesus! He never failed to sneak up on her like that, and it startled her every time.

She watched him carefully, trying to judge his state of mind. He was cool and collected, but a sly smile hovered on his lips, suggesting he was well prepared underneath.

The Slayer juggled the long, wicked stake in her hand back and forth with ease, the weaponry her sense of authority as she faced her enemy off.

"Just waiting around to get dusted, I see. " She replied with equal confidence, wanting to make sure he knew she meant business.

He smiled. "Hope to give you a good fight for it first. "

"What're we standing around waiting for, then? " she yelled, taking his comment as her cue to launch into attack.

The bleach-blonde vampire side-stepped her with ease and a kick sent her off guard. Buffy acted stunned, and when Spike approached she landed a kick right in the gut and came at him mercilessly with the stake. He had to be quick, or he would have been dust right then and there at the start of the game. The vampire had forgotten how fast and dangerous of a fighter she could be. But he quickly picked up the groove again of their old battles, attempting to battle the stake away from her, which she viciously defended.

"C'mon, give me that silly thing, who needs stakes anyhow? "

He wanted this fight to last a while, not end after 30 seconds with him disintegrated on the floor. And that would require the removal of her precious device--

Spike kicked the Slayer's knees out when she was busy trying to block his punches, and the stake clattered to the floor. She made a grab for it but a sharp kick from him sent it flying away to be swallowed up by the shadows of the crypt.

"You jerk! That was my best stake! " she spat, pulling another one of her wooden weapons out and leaping to her feet.

"Oh, you brought along your best one just for me? I'm touched, " he sneered at her.

Her new onslaught of kicks and jabs prevented him from taunting any further. It seemed as if her stake was everywhere at once, always seeking his heart, and he always danced away in the knick of time. Here, now there, and uh-oh, watch your back!

Whirling about at a dive she made for him, a hard kick floored her again, and this time he was going to take advantage of it. He came at her, but--

Whap!

The beautiful silver weapon whipped out and struck it's target smartly across the face. Spike stood a moment, dumbstruck, then smiled as Buffy whirled the weapon testingly in the air, trying to decide which way to come at him.

"Ooh now, brought along one of your toys, have you? "

"I think you'll like it, " she hissed, her dangerous voice blending with the sound of the whirling.

The long, well-worn wooden handle had a thick length of silver chain attached to the end, providing her with a wicked tormenting tool. The chain hummed in the air above his head as she closed in.

He ducked as it whooshed by him, and dodged again, and again, the metal biting the air inches away from him. He began to retreat as he struggled to keep from the chain. Wizz past the head, duck, now--

WHAP!

The weapon left a cruel mark across his chest. He snarled in pain and instinctively grabbed for the chain. Buffy was already bringing the weapon back around and the chain dug into his palms but Spike gave it a vicious tug anyway. She circled 'round him so it bound around his neck and he spun to face her, tugging the chain he still held in roughed hands, attempting to jerk it from her. The force of this action sent her careening into him, and they fell to the ground, battling over rights for the weapon.

To his surprise Spike managed to wrestle the flail away from her, and as they got back to their feet, now faced her off with the weapon in his power. The vampire grinned wolfishly.

"Look who's got the problem now, Slayer, " he said, spinning the chain in the air with all his strength, savoring the deadly humm as it sliced the air and the way it made his muscles shutter with the raw power. "You're right, I do like this toy, " he decided.

CRACK! Metal made contact with the concrete floor with alarming velocity, just barely missing Buffy. He gave it another strong swing.

WHAP! The Slayer cried out in pain as it flogged her across the back, and she attempted to grab it just like the vampire had done, but he snatched the chain back before she could come close.

"Ah-ah, " he said, WHHAP! , flogging her once more. A twirl of the chain and he brought it down again upon her--

She dropped to the floor and stabbed him in the knee with another stake, though, causing the weapon he had been spinning to fling out of his hand as he grabbed for his knee.

Making use of the opportunity of Spike being at her level, she grabbed his arm to yank him the rest of the way to the floor and dug at him with her stake, but he backhanded her in the face and snatched the wood from her.

Snapping the stake in two and tossing it aside, Buffy was up again and quickly realized that he had discarded her last stake. Her eyes darted to his upon this realization and he smirked at her.

"No more toys now, Slayer. Just you--"

He shoved at her and admired her instantaneous reaction to block--

"And me. "

"Fine by me, " she answered tersely before barreling into him again.

The two took turns exchanging blocks and blows, and this carried on in similar fashion for quite a while, the score evened now that neither had a weapon against each other. They just seemed too close in fighting ability to be able to tip the score one way or the other-they could of gone on forever like that, perhaps. Buffy was getting worn down, sweat dripping off her bangs and clinging to her shirt, but she still felt charged enough to go on fighting like that for hours.

The vampire, meanwhile, didn't show signs of tiring, but had stopped talking quite a while back, his teeth now grit as he saved his energy for the intense battle. He was cool as a cucumber in the sweltering crypt, of course, as the temperature had no effect on him.

So-- on into the night the two adversaries fought, each determined to outdo the other, but neither gaining any ground for long. The blocks and blows started to feel more symbolic of a fight rather than a true one, as they were hardly inflicting any damage upon each other anymore, able to guess at each move.

But they kept at it anyway. Faster and faster, they battled in dangerous unison, until the movements were effortless, steady, perfect. Too easy. Buffy kept trying to go faster and faster, keep the vampire on his toes, but he strode to keep up with her increasing speed, matching it with perfection.

They carried this on, unbroken and unwavering, and almost started to pick up a rhythm to it. The movements were fluent, almost surreal . . .

Buffy suddenly gasped in her mind, as if waking from a dream. What was going on? She felt like they were slowly spiraling downwards from reality, but why? Why was it that the harder she tried to thrash him, the more useless her moves seem to become? Panicking, she desperately tried to get a good lash in, a solid punch, anything, and found herself seemingly useless. He smoothly avoided them and carried on the pointless attacks.

"What-Spike-" the Slayer stuttered between punches, confused.

"What is it, Luv? " he hummed as they fought, a velvety sound at the back of his throat.

She was unable to help the shiver than ran down her spine. "What's . . . happening? "

"What do you mean, Pet? I thought you'd have that figured out by now, " he purred, this time his smirk less menacing and more . . .of something else.

"I . . . can't . . ." she pummeled at him, but he blocked each move and whirled about to counteract her moves again.

"Just tell me, ok? " she said tersely, beginning to get truly confused.

A swift kick and the vamp had knocked her off her feet again. He quickly grabbed her before she could fall and bringing his mouth to her ear, whispered.

"We're dancing, Buffy. "

This time she did gasp outloud. Attempting to elbow him in the face, he quickly spun her to her feet to avoid the move, and turning to face him again, she saw him smiling.

"How dare you! You--" she snarled, but couldn't stand the smug look on his face anymore and drove to attack again with renewed energy.

The whisper had chilled her to the bone, and now she was furious. She was battling tooth and nail, flat-out by now, but it didn't seem to matter in the slightest. He seemed to be avoiding her with perfection by now. Panic started to rise in her-- what was wrong here? She was the Slayer! Spike couldn't just be better than her! He simply couldn't!

Buffy desperately tried to finish the fight, panicked at the notion of being mastered by this demon. But it didn't work. He started to chuckle in humor, tossing her around, toying with her.

"It's not funny, " she growled, but it came out mostly as a growl so she doubted he heard.

The more desperately she tried to gain ground, the more helpless she felt. Suddenly she noticed the vampire was murmuring as they fought-at first she didn't understand it but finally recognized some of the words.

"Step forward, back now, duck, good, move here, there you are, sweep, kick, there you go, Luv . . . "

It sounded like he was directing them like a dance instructor.

What shocked her, however, was that he actually was predicting their movements. Right down to the exact step. Even as she heard them, she continued to follow the pattern, as if subconsciously going through the motions. He kept muttering.

"There we are, Luv, right, like so . . . come at me now, shift, move, and--"

He twirled her around again, nearly swinging her to the ground, and let her come after him again-- "There we go--"

The Slayer shoved him, her eyes darting into his daringly. "Spike, I don't know what kind of stunt you're trying to pull--"

But he ignored her protest, carrying on with his instructions as they fought.

"Sweep, duck away, right left right left, very good, Pet-atch, look out now . . . "

Buffy ducked at Spike's warning.

"Good, good-- move! There, kick, come after me then--"

Spike's words became a soft soothing background noise to their movements. They carried on like that and Buffy found herself tuning into them rather than out. She paid careful attention to every movement.

"Move, block now, see it coming--"

She swung him 'round and used the momentum of herself to shove him bodily against the wall, winning an 'Oof' from him.

"Hey now, that was a good one . . . " he muttered and shot out, shoving her back.

She kept at it, realizing she could make some sort of progress if she followed the flow of the pattern rather than fight it. Almost as if he let her?

"Ow, " she spat, as the vampire rammed her into the wall again. She grabbed the hem of his coat with both hands and swung him into the wall. He actually laughed outloud when his back struck the concrete again.

"Swing, and like so--" Spike was still occasionally muttering in his thick British accent.

The Slayer suddenly kicked out his knees, which obviously took Spike completely by surprise, as while he fell he looked quite angry, and he gasped when his decent suddenly stopped, as Buffy yanked him back to his feet to put him back in the game.

"Look, I'm sick--" she grated tersely through her teeth, while shoving him into the wall,

"And tired of you--"

As he came at her, she quickly knocked his attempts at an attack away and shoved him back into the wall again--

"Acting like you're all smug and in charge--"

He shoved at her, as if to return the favor of before, his eyes flashing and humming with excitement, a tiny smile of something Buffy couldn't place playing on his lips--

"When obviously you--"

WUMPH, he hit the wall again.

"Aren't the one in control here--"

Growling as his head connected painfully with the brick, Spike used their close quarters to his advantage, grabbing her around the waist with one arm to haul her into the brick wall they were using as their personal battering ram for the night.

"Umph! " she protested, as stars danced across her vision. She glared at her captor with feral green eyes.

"So you can just stop--" she said, twisting, as the vampire's arm was still tight around her waist, and managed to twist the two of them around so now Spike's back was to the wall--

"Pretending, " the Slayer finished her sentence on a breathless note, as the motion had brought the two eye-to-eye, crushed against the brick wall. She slowed, stopped, stared at him.

His voice came as a very animal-like growl in the back of his throat.

"Who said I was pretending? "

Her mouth found his at once and she started to devour him, crushing his back mercilessly against the wall, tugging and shoving violently against his chest as their tongues tangled. He moaned, certain every bone in his back was getting crushed while the front of him was getting clawed to shreds by the Slayer, but he was loving every minute of it. He was burning, and everything was good, the pain as intoxicating and erotic as having her in his mouth, taking her in, tasting her, finally having her--

She broke the kiss and took a gasp of air, her hazel-green eyes darkened several shades in her arousal, but a hint of confusion shone in them.

Spike didn't give her any time to think. He grabbed her face and started kissing her again. She responded immediately, shoving her body against his, desperately wanting all parts of herself to be touching his at once--

His hands, oh, God, long, slender fingers, slid up and knit through her blonde hair, as he moved to trail hungry kisses down her neck--

"Spike! " she yelled, but he mistook it as a cry of pleasure, when in fact it was a call to stop. He darted his tongue out against the oh-so-soft skin of her neck, and it was just about enough to make the bottom drop out of the world.

"Oooh, " she approved, as her head felt fuzzy, senses overwhelmed.

"No, Spike, stop--"

"Make me, " he snarled, gnawing possessively on the flesh of her neck like a dog with it's bone, and made his way back up to her lips--

"No--"

As their lips met again, her protests were muffled out, as she greedily took him in, like a newborn sucking in the first air of it's new life.

Then those marvelous hands began to draw a trail downwards, sliding down her sides, along the sensitive skin of her back--

A sharp shove separated them by several inches, and Spike's blue eyes looked into hers, flowing with impatient passion and slightly questioning.

"No, Spike, stop it, " she repeated, backing away a few paces.

"I-I can't. "

Delicately licking his lips, he eyed her like a tiger might eye it's prey before the pounce.

"Stop! Stop looking at me, stop-stop everything. I don't--"

Her voice was tiny, weak, the smallest shard of her logical, sane mind left, barely hanging on by a thread-- a little string fighting against the battering storm of her passion and need.

He was advancing upon her, and she continued to back away in rapidly growing speed, only able to keep the still-unbearably-too-close space between them from growing any smaller.

"Spike, I said stop it, " she warned, but it didn't come out as threatening as she wanted it to. More like a mouse threatening a lion with a safety-pin.

He made his move, and pounced like a cat, causing the Slayer to cry out in surprise. He had grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her neck, and she struggled and kicked back at him in weak desperation. Whispering in a husky voice in her ear, he answered,

". . . make . . . me. "

A violent explosion caused the entire crypt to shutter in it's wake, as the noise echoed and reverberated in the hallow room. Both Slayer and vampire jerked in surprise.

"Buffy! Get away from her! "

Spike suddenly found his world spinning down into pain, as an arrow stuck high in his chest. He gasped, releasing his hold on the Slayer, as she fell back away from him.

"Bit too high, " he coughed out weakly, staggering blindly for somewhere to sit down or lean against, the pain hitting his body wholly like a rush, certain he would collapse in a moment.

Buffy was so busy staring at Spike, who was blundering towards the hard wall, with an arrow in his chest and his face writhed in agony, that she jumped in surprise when Xander yelled at her, hurrying over.

"Buffy! Buffy, are you ok? What did he do to you? "

Finally looking over to her friend, armed with an empty crossbow with a look of near panic on his face, she gaped, and stuttered, unable at first to form words.

"Xander . . . I . . . oh. Oh. "

Xander quickly moved to grab Buffy before she crashed to the floor. The room seemed to be spinning, spinning . . . in the center of it all was Xander, looking down at her, concern glowing in his voice, although the words didn't seem to mean much at the time . . .

"Buffy? Buffy? Are you all right? Are you hurt? Shh, c'mon, let's go, we'll get you out of here, ok? "

She murmured, feeling her grip of reality slipping away fast.

"I can't . . . believe . . . I danced . . ."

Xander squinted at her, and shot a glance over to the peroxide-blonde vampire, who had managed to slide to a sitting position, his back against the wall, and was nursing the arrow in his chest.

"What did you say, Buffy? "

Hauling her up, he wrapped her arms over his shoulders so he could help walk her out of here.

"C'mon, Buf, let's get out of here. "

The Slayer did not reply, only dumbly stumbled, allowing Xander to half-drag her out of Spike's crypt.

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

"What were you thinking? "

"I told you, I was doing perfectly fine by myself! What did you do, stalk me? "

"Yes! Yes, Buffy, I followed you. I was worried about you, ok? ? I was just making sure you didn't need any help. You know. Backup? "

The Slayer sighed, nervously wringing her hands and she marched briskly through the woods, in lack of a wooden stake to play with. Xander was right in her wake.

"And apparently, a wise choice on my part. "

"I-I was doing fine. "

"Were you? Looked like you needed help to me. "

She shot a glare over her shoulder, never slowing her feverish pace on the path in which she came from earlier that night.

"Don't give me 'The Look'. I tried to stay put, I did. Even when there was a lot of yelling going on inside I stayed by the door and just waited. But then you sounded really worried, I knew something was wrong--"

She stopped short, so Xander nearly crashed into her.

"You're-you're right, thanks, Xander, " she apologized, feeling guilty. Wow. A lot of feeling guilty tonight was in order, that's for sure.

"Thanks for, you know, being there. "

He smiled. "No problem. That's what we're here for, you know. Being there. "

She nodded and continued her quick pace, nervously wringing her hands again.

"Buf, you sure you're ok? "

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just was a little-light headed, you know? I'm fine now. "

"Uh-huh. I asked because you're acting, uh, a little--"

She stopped again and her eyed needled into his questioningly.

"Acting a little what? " she asked tersely.

"Uh . . . nervous? Uptight? Spooked? "

She blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yeah . . . ok, " and turned to a fast-walk again.

"Woah, hey, what's the big hurry for? "

"I sort of promised mom I'd be back for bed at a reasonable hour after torturing and slaying Spike, " she answered, very intent on getting home as fast as she damn well could with Xander tagging behind her.

"Which you did not do either of," Xander said, more as a question rather than a statement.

She turned to look at him.

"Yeah I did. I tormented him. I brought that whole metal-aww, damnit! He still has that, too, " she cursed, not really willing to pop in anytime soon to ask for the weapon back.

"Anyway, though, I whupped his ass, really, was about to go in for the kill. "

"But I took care of that for you, huh? "

"Yeah. "

"Well, don't count on it. He was still there when we left. Solid and bleeding. Missed, " he said, regret evident in his voice.

That annoyed Buffy.

"Yeah, well, tougher than you thought, huh? He's a tricky one. "

Xander frowned.

"Must be. Seems you're always getting chances to stake em' but never quite get the job done, huh? "

"Are you trying to imply something, Xander? ! "

He backed off in mock fear.

"Woah, calm down, mortal human, not super-strong demon you're talking to here! "

"I know that, " she said, her patience down on the wire.

"Just wanted to remind you. "

She sighed in frustration. "Look, are we done with the chit-chat? 'Cuz it's been nice and all, but I'd really like to get back before I miss all of-of . . . ok, hell, whatever's on at this time of night! Ok? ! "

Xander had a funny look on his face, like he was confused.

"Oooh . . . kay. Sure. I guess so. "

"Thank you, " she said, crisply turning and marching off again in a bee-line towards the "tranquil" streets of Sunnydale 'hoods.

"You're, you're welcome! " he called after her. She didn't seem to notice as he watched her rapidly receding forum into the late night.

"What's eatin' her? "

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

"My God, I can still taste him. I can STILL taste the…DAMN…bastard! ! "

She snatched up her toothbrush like she was grabbing a stake for the kill, squeezed about half a pound of toothpaste on to it, and started brushing like there was no tomorrow.

Because there really wouldn't be if she didn't figure out what to do about this mess, now was there?

Now calm down, Buffy, and let's think about this rationally.

Rationally? ! Rationally? ! I HAD MY TOUNGE DOWN HIS FUCKING THROAT AND YOU WANNA DISCUSS THAT RATIONALLY? !

She coughed, gagging on toothpaste and spat and sputtered it out in the sink.

Ok, girl, calm down, Jesus. He-he-he-ok, how did this happen again?

You wanna hear the story again? !

Oh, come on-

I don't know. I DON'T KNOW, ok? ! One second we were fighting, la la la la, everything was normal. Well. Mostly. He was really weird this time-

Something went click in the young Slayer's mind.

Oh! A spell! It had to be a spell! That's the only logical, sane way to explain this all!

She gave a nervous laugh out loud of relief.

Yes, yes, a spell, of course.

She gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, with dark, wet hair and her crumpled white flannels. She had just stood in the shower for about an hour, trying to wash away all evidence of what he-of what they-had done. Just shower it out of her damn skin, scrub every place he touched to damn Hell-

Ok, ok, calm down, she told herself, feeling her breathing increasing as she started to panic about it again. It's all over with now.

She rinsed her mouth and numbly climbed into bed, feeling really, really weird to just get in bed to sleep like everything was normal.

Like his voice hadn't just curled her toes and his touch sent her reeling on the throes of utter estca-

SHUT.

UP! !

She turned over and burrowed under her blankets, nuzzling her pillow and trying in vain to dig away from the world. The thoughts kept buzzing above her head like a swarm of angry bees.

She sighed, mentally willing her breathing to slow, her heart rate to calm.

It seemed to be working. Just sleep-sleep it all away.

Yeah.

Sleep.

Sleep and it will all leave you alone.

Buffy's eyes shot open.

She could still taste him, damnit! !

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

She was breathing him; his scent swirled all around her like some invisible aura of darkness; his shadow engulfing her, swallowing her whole, and she gladly allowed herself to be devoured by this force. She was pressing him against the wall, so close, everything was so close, so…

She was grinding her hips against his when a painful jarring in her ear brought her back to reality. She sucked in a breath of air and opened her eyes at once, seeing her face shoved against a blank white wall, a light sheet veiling her head from above, early sunlight filtering through. The jarring from her alarm clock continued relentlessly, and it took a few moments for her to remember were she was.

"Oh, " she yelped when her mind made the connection, eyes growing wide.

Everything hit her at once; she was in her bed, shoved against her bedroom wall as crammed as possible, a terrible crick in her neck at the contorted position, as her pillow right now was straddled between her legs, half of the pillow case tugged off and wrung tightly in her fists. With another yelp she shoved herself back away from the wall, kicked the pillow away from her as quickly as possible, as if it had burned her.

"No, no, no, no-"

She kept shoving away from the wall until she toppled off the bed, falling painfully to the carpeted floor, and just continued to shove herself backwards away from the bed, as her chanting picked up speed and volume-

"No, no, no, no-"

The alarm clock buzzed in perfect time with her chanting, and she kept sliding backwards on the floor, eyes wide in horror.

"No, no, no, no, no-"

As her back hit the opposite wall she shoved against it, unwilling to tear her eyes off her crumpled bed but also unwilling to stop backing off. She stood up by pressing against it with her back for support, crying,

"No, no, NO! "

"I will not dream, I will not-it's not right, that's it, we're done-no more, and adios. Bad-bad, bad dream! Bad! "

She shook a finger at her bed, as if to teach it a lesson.

"Bad, " she asserted again, much more calmly this time.

Then she turned around to see her little sister standing in the doorway, with a bewildered expression on her face.

The two cried in surprise simultaneously.

"Dawn! " the Slayer yelped.

"What? " she yelped back.

"What. ARE. You. DOING? "

"I'm, I'm sorry-I-mom told me to come wake you up, you're gonna-be late for school-"

Dawn spoke in very broken sentences, backing off as she spoke.

Buffy sighed in frustration. "Fine. I'll be down in a minute, " she said tersely.

But Dawn continued to linger in the doorway, as if her feet were glued down to the floor against her will.

"What is it? "

"Must-must have been some nightmare, " she stammered, unable to help but say something about it.

The Slayer stared at her a moment.

"Yes. Nightmare. I'll be down in a few minutes, " she stated in a strong monotone, enunciating each word. Dawn bobbed her head in dumb agreement,

"Kay, "

And scurried off. Buffy sighed, was about to sit down on her bed, when she let out a yelp and jumped back before she had a chance.

"No, no. Still mad at you, " she told her bed, and moved to get dressed as quickly as possible. When she was done she looked into the mirror to ensure she looked…normal. She addressed her reflection in a very professional, or what she hoped to be, manner.

"All right, Ms. Summers. Time to go to school. Yes. You're going to go to school, and not think about anything else all day. "

The little voice inside her head started to crack up.

What's so funny?

Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.

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

Buffy tried to hold true to her promise. She honest-to-God tried to.

But drifting through her classes, she just couldn't.

She just kept worrying. About when she'd run into him again. Because, of course, she knew it wasn't a question of IF, but of WHEN-and he always seemed to manage to pop up during the worst times imaginable, so she was pretty jumpy all day. Even though that was ridiculous, of course; he can't go out in sunlight…

Which quite underlines the fact that he is a DEMON, a monster, and that thought just churned her stomach over and over again. She-she kissed a soulless demon, and she liked it.

Ugh! !

There was no way it wasn't-it had to be a spell, it had to be. Like, like before, when Willow and Tara messed up. Or maybe somehow Spike had gotten some one to do it. She shuttered. Didn't matter. She was just gonna flat-out avoid him for the rest of his undead days, unless he hounded her. Then she'd have to kill him, of course.

Wait. Aww, crap. He can hurt people again.

Buffy had forgotten about that part. How could she forget something like that? ! Crud. Now she really did have to kill him-and soon.

The Slayer sighed, playing with the empty milk carton for her lunch. For some reason she didn't feel much like eating today.

Not food, anyway…

Buffy cursed some things at the little voice in her head that I don't care to repeat, and then got up, grabbing the brown paper bag of the lunch her mother had packed that morning. Was sweet of her, she really didn't have to do that. Kind of embarrassing, too, that she was still doing it…

Tossing the remains in the garbage, the voice refused to keep quiet for long.

C'mon, you can yell at me, but it's not gonna cover up the truth…

"Sure I can. Because there is no truth to cover up, you dumbass. " she muttered.

Dumbass, huh? Who's the one who started it, eh?

"Shut UP! I told you we're gonna forget-"

She stopped short when a few kids passing by gave her very weird looks. She put on her smile-at-the-stranger face until they passed, then muttered under her breath.

"I really must be loosing it now. First that, and now I'm talking to myself. Great. "

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

"Hey, Buf, we're all headed down to the Bronze tonight. You should come. "

Buffy jumped.

"Wha? Huh? Bronze? Oh, " she said, her voice growing small on the Oh. She had finally, FINALLY managed to take her mind off of-ahem-other things-for a good hour or so; she had been goofing off with Willow when they really were supposed to be studying, having little paper-clip bouncing contests, and other mindless activities, when Xander had popped by.

It was as soon as she heard the word Bronze that fear crept back in. She kind of was planning on…well…hiding tonight.

"Yea, you should come, Buffy. I'll be fun. We haven't gone as a whole group there for a while now, " Willow added her approval. Buffy groaned, outnumbered.

"I guess I could…"

"I'm sure Giles will let you off the hook for one night. Especially since you've been, you know, working so hard lately. "

Buffy smiled at her friend, letting her convince her. Yeah-it would be good to get out and just chill with her friends, it should really help take her mind off things…

"Oh, yeah, forgot about the whole slayage thing. Um, he might not let you after all. Considering you sort of have, ahem, a little project to finish up. "

"Project? What project's that, Buffy? "

The Slayer glowered a little at Xander. "I'm sure that can wait, Xander. If you really are as good a shot as you say you are…"

"Hey, it's not my fault! You were kinda in the way at the time. Half-dead demon's better than a stake through Buffy, don't you think? "

"Guys! What are you talking about? "

They both looked at Willow.

"Oh, no biggie. I went out last night to kill-" she paused when she realized how easy it was to say. Just rolled right off her tongue. To kill Spike. For some reason that fact bothered her.

"Our local Deadboy-" Xander finished helpfully.

"Oh! I didn't know, you were going to-last night? All by yourself? "

"Well, yeah. I convinced Giles to let me go by myself-"

"But he's, he's not like your average vampire, Buffy! You should of let us help. "

Buffy sighed, rolling her eyes skywards. Was the whole world trying to drive her insane or was it just her?

"Kind of late for that now, Will. "

"Well, at least you're still here, " Willow said with a little smile,

"Must not of went too bad then, right? "

"Umm…right…. " Buffy said hesitantly.

"I saved the day, " Xander said, raising his hand like he was in class.

The Slayer sighed.

"You did? "

"Yep, yep. "

"We'll see you tonight, Xander. Gotta finish studying, " Buffy told him, with a serious expression. He grinned.

"Uh-huh. Lemme know what classes you're taking, Buf, because I don't recall seeing any on Paper Clip Shooting 101. "

"It's a private group, " she explained, Willow giggling.

"No boys allowed. "

"Pff. Typical, " he said before taking off.

Willow clapped her hands together.

"Yay! Tonight should be fun. We really should-actually work now, you know. I'm feeling guilty about all this goof-off time, especially since it's being rewarded. "

Buffy grinned. "All right, it's agreed. Goof off time for later, work for now. "

She thought about her cheerful words, hoping they held good merit.

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