Spike winced, yet welcomed the pain as Drusilla snaked a sharp fingernail down his chest and licked the red trail.

"It makes no sense, Spike. Why do you lock me down here in a dungeon while you play with the Slayer?"

"We've been over this, Dru."

"Shh," she hushed in a quick motion. "You promised to make me well and strong so I can hunt once again. Shutting me down here with my dollies and nothing but the company of angels in my head taunting...teasing...telling me I'm nothing. Makes me feel worse, Spike."

Spike turned on his side and looked at Drusilla. She was clinically insane but the only constant in his entire existance. She was everything to him and seeing her worse than ever was not something he relished. Still, he was rooted to Sunnydale because of a 5'3'' , 105 pound preppy superhero.

He would never admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, but each tussel was a complete turn on. He'd never felt anything like it.

He hated the hold that Buffy had on him. If Spike was the only one involved, the grip that grasped him would be welcomed. But he did have Drusilla to consider. She needed to travel, see the world, and somehow drain the voices from her head.

He had considered leaving Sunnydale several times, but every time he did it brought him back to that first night...the first night he nearly bagged his third Slayer. When he arrived in Los Angeles, he found her so easily that he was sure it was a mistake. It was the first ounce of doubt he had before going up against a born demon killer.

And when they fought, she had her own style but lacked discipline.

Her strength was lethal but it had taken him no more than five minutes to have her restrained beneath him, her pulsating throat clutched tightly within his black tipped grasp. But as his deadly embrace squeezed tighter, she looked at him with the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen.

It was the first time he almost felt human.

He had to release her, only to realize that she was a lot younger than he anticipated. The hunt was no longer fun. She wasn't technically skilled like the Boxer Rebellion Slayer and the New York girl had a stylish flare added with a death wish. Now thoughs girls; they were fun to drain the life out of.

"You're thinking about her arn't you?" Drusilla whined like she was about ready to cry.

She brought Spike out of his remembrance. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dru. Now why don't I go catch you something to eat. It'll make you feel better."

Spike rose from the bed and slipped on his jeans, buckling his belt. He turned back to his lover noticing she was rocking back and forth with her hands to her head.

"I want someone to eat, someone I can drink who will put me back in my right mind."

"You were never in your right mind, Dru. It's just your strength that's lacking."

"Bring her to me, Spike. I havn't had the blood of a Slayer since the turn of the century. Almost forgot what it tastes like."

Spike sighed and put on his favorite ensemble. "I promised you the next one, luv. Another decade or so won't kill you when you have went nearly a hundred years without."

"Promises, promises...promises broken," she tisked while making a naughty naughty signal with her fingers.

He had broken a lot of promises to her recently. He needed to do the right thing. Fix what was breaking right before his eyes.

"Your right, luv," Spike muttered.

He turned his back and sped out of the dank hole in the earth. The promises that were spoken were weighing heavy on him. After so much time, he had handed the world to Drusilla on a silver platter. It was something she expected from him.

He had a feeling that it was his rebellion that haunted her more than anything.

And then there was his promise to Buffy. Granted, he spoke of helping her make it past the expectant age of 25 but he never said that he would never leave her side. Maybe a year or two to take Drusilla across the world would put everything right and in perspective.

But what if something happened to Buffy in that short amount of time? Two years to him was like an hour...two years for her was like a decade.

Instead of hunting for a young victim to take back to the dark dungeon, he walked to 1630 Revello Drive.

Maybe if Spike saw Buffy, he would know what to do.