"I'm glad you came so soon, I know you're busy," Angel told Buffy and Giles as they sat down in his office lounge at Wolfram and Hart. He was glad to see them. It was getting lonely running the firm without a close team to work with anymore. "How was your flight from England?"

"Uneventful." Buffy shrugged. "So let's talk about what we came here to talk about. How's Spike?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know. I've tried to talk to him, but he brushes me off. I didn't what to push the issue. Last thing we want is for him to take off somewhere. Thought I'd wait until you and Giles got here."

"But you told him we were coming?" Giles inquired.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Angel called.

Spike entered Angel's office. "You wanted to see me boss? I've got the bloody contracts signed…" He stopped dead, and let the paperwork fall to the floor at the sight of Buffy and Giles seated in Angel's comfy leather chairs.

Buffy and Giles took in Spike's appearance. He was dressed in his usual attire, but looked paler than normal, and his left arm was strapped in a sling, under his coat.

"What's this?" Spike asked.

"Hey, Spike," Buffy smiled. She'd known he was alive for a long time now, but this was the first time she's seen him in the flesh since the destruction of Sunnydale. They had both moved on with their lives since that time. Buffy tried to keep it casual. "Believe it or not, we were just talking about you."

"Yeah? About all my heroic exploits and demon slayings, I hope."

"Something like that." Buffy replied with a sideways glance at Angel.

"So it's bad right? The two of you wouldn't be here otherwise." Spike sat himself down on the chair between Buffy and Giles. Angel shut the door and stopped to pick up the files Spike had left on the floor, placing them carefully on his desk before coming over.

Giles and Buffy glanced at each other and Giles spoke. "It's potentially… bad. We need more information and we'll need to conduct some tests to be certain of anything. We will require your cooperation, Spike."

"You got it," Spike swore. "Conduct tests on what?"

Buffy sighed. "You didn't tell him why we're here, did you?" she looked at Angel accusingly.

"Well, fill me in," Spike urged, "What's this big bad we're fighting and how can I help?"

Buffy turned back to Spike and her voice softened. "Spike, we're not fighting. And there's no big bad, at least I hope not. We're here to try and help you. Angel's really worried about you."

Spike laughed. "Is he now?" He placed a cigarette in his mouth while he fumbled for his lighter, with his good arm. "I think you'll find," he mumbled, then having found his lighter, removed the cigarette to finish speaking, "it's Angel's fancy way of bragging: 'oh, look how Spike pales in comparison to me, the most powerful vampire with a soul. Oh, I'm worried about Spike. He hasn't killed quite as many demons as I have recently. Let's all investigate how much of a stronger vampire I am than Spike, shall we?' Worried? Please!" Spike stopped and lit his cigarette.

"Hey!" Angel objected. "Put that out."

"Give me a break Angel!" Spike said angrily. "I don't care about your office rules. I'm undead, it's hardly gonna give me lung cancer."

"Maybe not, but it's not polite in front of Buffy and Giles." They stared at him strangely. "Fine," Angel admitted. "I just don't like you playing with fire, the state you're in," Angel sounded his concern.

"You could at least try asking nicely," Spike defended his overreaction.

"Please, stop smoking," Angel told him.

"Sod off! I do what I want!"

At that Angel reached over and grabbed Spike's cigarette. "Could I have a word with you Spike?" The question was clearly rhetorical as Angel took hold of the collar of Spike's jacket. Spike reluctantly followed Angel to his desk, where Buffy and Giles could hear their voices rising and falling and the occasional expletive from Spike.

"Awkward, much?" Buffy said to Giles.

"Yes, rather," Giles responded. "I thought he knew. How are you doing Buffy? After all this is the first time you've seen Spike since…"

"I'm fine. Besides, it's not about me. It's about Spike. What do think? He looks a little pale, but Angel made it sound a lot worse on the phone," Buffy whispered.

"Appearances can be deceiving. Now that we're here, we should investigate thoroughly regardless."

"Agreed."

Finally Angel and Spike came and sat down again. Angel, his hand still on Spike's collar, made Spike sit next to him on the double sofa, opposite Buffy and Giles.

"Well," Spike began, "Now that I know Angel's been blabbing about me on the phone it would be foolish of me to act like I had any semblance of privacy or dignity to preserve. So I won't." He looked up. "You want to hear how I've been? I'll tell you everything. Every pathetic detail, if that's what you came all this way for. Where do you want to start?"

"Thank you Spike," Giles answered. "That would be most helpful. Angel told us your physical strength has been declining for the last month. Do you have any ideas what instigated this?"

Spike turned and glared at Angel, beside him. "A month? You only noticed a month ago?"

"How long, Spike?" Giles asked.

"Four months," Spike corrected. "Maybe longer," he looked away, concentrating on avoiding anyone's gaze, particularly Buffy's.

"And do you have any idea as to the cause?"

"Well, busting my arm didn't help any." Spike nodded his head at his bandaged arm in the sling.

"And this happened how long ago?" Buffy inquired.

"About a month," Angel guessed.

"Five weeks," Spike corrected.

"And it's not healed? What happened?" Buffy asked with concern.

Angel answered when Spike was not forthcoming. "It happened during a fight with a Tava demon. He grabbed Spike's arm. Dug his claws in. Twisted." Spike flinched at Angel's words.

"Well that's not a mystical wound by any means," Giles pointed out. "I think we can safely rule out your theory Angel, that the Tava demon is the cause of Spike's condition, especially as Spike has informed us that it started months before that event."

"My condition?" Spike was indignant.

"Spike it's hardly normal for a vampire to be losing his strength in this way for no good reason. You're going on 130 now. Vampires typically become stronger with age, not the reverse."

"The ones that survive do," Spike pointed out.

"Still, I would expect your vampiric powers to be on the increase. This is anomalous."

"What's your theory then? How do I defy all odds to become the pathetic loser that you see before you?" Spike asked.

Giles glanced at Buffy. "There are several possibilities. One of which is… Buffy and I have encountered evidence of a condition sometimes referred to as 'Midnight's Curse.'"

Spike scoffed. "That's a medieval fairytale. Like the Black Death. It's not real."

"Spike, the black death is real," Buffy informed him.

"It is? I didn't know that. But this 'midnight's curse' is bollocks. Manuscripts tell of vampires voluntarily walking into daylight and turning into corpses and such nonsense. I'm not about to walk out into the sun. I'm not suicidal! Besides, if anything, light seems brighter than it used to, even the computer screen hurts my eyes. Been thinking of getting some of them specs, like you Giles, if it gets any worse. Angel has me on office duties, since I'm useless in a fight, and I can't concentrate on the screen…"

"Interesting," Giles noted. "You say the light seems brighter? What else has changed? We must gather as much information as we can."

Spike thought for a moment. "It's like, I don't get that rush anymore. You know, when you really hit something, or you get hit good and proper." Buffy seemed to know what he was talking about. "Violence. I just don't get it like I used to… Makes me bloody useless in a fight. I don't get so revved up somehow, I just get… "

"You're weak, Spike," Angel said. "It stands to reason that you…"

"Hey, I'm trying to explain something here and you are just insulting me!"

"I'm saying it's understandable, that's all."

"Understandable? It's downright infuriating, that's what it is!"

"Alright, let's move on," Giles suggested. "Spike how are you feeding?"

"What do you mean?"

"Human or animal blood?"

"Animal, of course."

Giles made a note. "And how often?"

"Well, I used to be a regular little soldier. Had my cup of blood every morning and night. Like clockwork."

"But now?"

"I try… every other day."

"Spike," Angel was incredulous. "No wonder you're weak. I can get you human blood, if you don't like the taste…"

"It's not the taste," Spike admitted. "It's… I can't keep it down, is the thing."

"Spike, you can't survive without blood," Angel was emphatic.

"I know. Which is why," Spike awkwardly pulled up the sleeve on his good arm by pushing it against his side to reveal his track-marked wrist.

"You're injecting?" Angel was shocked. "Since when?"

"Just when I have to. Not as if I do it for fun. If I haven't been able to feed for a couple days, then I do this instead. Perks me up a bit. Of course I busted my arm and it's been a tad tricky."

"Well, you should get medical to do that, Spike. You should go to medical. In fact I'm calling them now," Angel broke from the conversation. He got up and went over to his desk to make the call.

Giles scribbled more notes in his book. Spike lit up another cigarette in an effort to continue avoiding eye contact with Buffy. After a few long draws on his cigarette he spoke, without looking up, "So what are you doing here, Buffy? Last thing I want is for you to see me like this."

"I'm sorry I'm making this hard for you. It's just business Spike," Buffy told him. "Oh, and later, shopping."

"Shopping?"

"For the wedding."

"Wedding?"

Angel came over. "They're expecting Spike at the medical science division. Giles you go with him. Do your tests, your research. Get some answers. I need to get these contracts in the mail."

"What's Buffy doing?" asked Spike.

"Shopping."

"Oh, right."

"We can regroup after that," Angel told them.

Giles nodded. "You can show me the way, Spike."

"Fine." Spike obligingly pulled himself to his feet and they headed for the door.

"Spike," Buffy called. "Is there anything else you haven't told us? Anything you can think of that might help us figure this out? Get you back to your delightfully violent demonic self?" Buffy asked.

"Don't think so, Slayer," Spike turned to face her and finally looked at Buffy straight on. "Other than the obvious, of course."

"Which is?"

"I can't vamp."

"What do you mean?"

"Angel told you, right? I can't vamp anymore. Show my vampire face? Not for want of trying, mind you. Last time I changed was over two months ago. Remember that fight Angel? Got punched in the head five times before I managed to vamp. Lasted all of two seconds. I mean that's what we've been talking about this whole time, right? My vampire powers are fading. The demon half of me is dying, leaving just this pathetic walking talking human corpse. Angel's scared he'll catch it next. And you lot probably want to spread it around. Make slaying a hell of a lot easier. Like a biological weapon against vampires. And me? You're not worried about me. The only thing you're worried about is that I'll turn to dust before you've had time to find your answers. Don't look so shocked Buffy. For the good of human-kind, just like last time, right?"