Disclaimers, etc. in part 1


Part 3

"Did the fledge say why?" Spike was curious. His chipped condition had been known throughout the demon community for some time, and he thought he had sorted old grudges out. There had been last year and the loan shark, but they had made a deal not long after, when Spike had supplied a certain gill cleaner found only in the remote Arctic.

Willow looked down sheepishly, as they continued walking to Spike's crypt. "He, uh, didn't get the chance. I-I, well, he kinda turned to dust as soon as he said, 'Spii-ike'. Cause I had already pushed the stake in most of the way. Then, you know, he said your name and I got all, you know, 'How dare you even speak my friends name'. And I pushed the stake in." Willow was blushing now.

"It's all right, Willow. They may have been working alone. And it's not like it's the Order of Terraka or some other assassin group. They wouldn't send a bunch of fledges and one master. I'll just have to think about who else in my entire existence I've made angry." Spike sighed. Thank God I never went to Antarctica, Spike thought. Only got six continents to wonder about.

Snorting, he caught Willow's smell again. "Willow, luv, what perfume are you wearing?"

She grinned. "It's part of a potion to disguise a human's scent. Makes you smell like a Garwot demon. Do I smell like a Garwot?"

Spike wrinkled his nose. "Garwot - yeah. You definitely reek of one. Couldn't place that smell. Only crossed the path of one once, back during my fledge days, and most of that is a blur, until…." He grimaced. He was going to continue the sentence with "I got that first Slayer,", but the remembrance now caused disgust rather than pride.

Willow just nodded. They had arrived at his crypt, where they found the door open already.

Spike frowned. Xander had been behind him and probably had not shut the door, due to the young man's mental freeze. Shrugging, Spike stepped inside, Willow close behind him. He stopped suddenly, when he saw all of his things strewn about.

His TV had a pipe through it, his bed was half on one side of the room and half on the other, the lamps were shattered, but the item that caused him the most grief was his pillow. The stuffing was everywhere and someone had hung the material with the 'Home Sweet Home' directly in front of them.

"God, Spike." Willow walked further inside.

Firmly deciding to be angry rather than sad, Spike issued a long sigh. "Willow, looks like I should be staying elsewhere tonight. Would you mind if I stayed at your house tonight? I want a chance to think things over, and if I have to be fighting off demons all night and possibly all day, I want to get some damn sleep first."

Willow looked at the dangling fabric that had been Spike's pillow. She shuddered and turned back to Spike. "Yeah, sure you can. Let's get out of here."

Spike grabbed the remaining blood out of his overturned refrigerator and followed Willow out the door, which he firmly shut behind him.

The atmosphere felt very subdued. Willow kept glancing at Spike, a worried frown on her forehead. She was also using her senses to detect any movement. "Demon breaking and entering is just lame," the words left Willow's lips of their own accord.

Spike smiled slightly and nodded. He was now sure that whoever was after him was very, very pissed off with him. There goes Australia, Spike thought. Only pissed off a few Rengaltu demons and I dusted all the vamps I came across. Five continents left.

Spike sighed. They were almost at the Summer's home. Spike followed Willow slowly through the door.

"Um. I don't know where you can sleep. There aren't any more bedrooms besides…" Willow looked down.

Spike knew she was talking about Buffy's room. He knew he wasn't really ready to sleep in the house, let alone in her room. Everything would smell of her, and the memories of times he had snuck in to collect her very personal items from that very room would overwhelm him.

Willow came back into the living room with a hammer, a blanket and some nails. She smiled as she stood on the couch in front of the window. "Not going to use magic for this. If I get a booboo from the hammer, then I'll suck it up and run to the freezer and put some ice on it." With a firm nod, Willow started hammering the blanket over the curtains.

Willow finished without incident and hopped from the couch with a wide smile. "Now, I'll get the blanket you'll actually sleep with and p…," Willow paused. "Pillows too."

Spike nodded. Willow knew how much his pillow had meant to him. Her concern meant more however, and Spike silently said a private good bye to his late cushion.

After getting settled, Spike was content to mull over the day's events, but instead he fell straight to sleep.

#####

Out of the corner of his tear-filled eyes, Spike saw an out of breath Xander run into the crypt.

Spike opened his mouth to speak, "I-I -,"

Spike could see Xander gazing from the prone form of Buffy to Spike, who was kneeling and hugging himself.

"What happened?" Xander asked, breathlessly.

"She was hurt. Her heart was slowing. I-I turned h-her. B-because, because I just didn't know what else to do." Spike sniffed. "I didn't want to lose her. Not again. I just -,"

"Spike," Xander said, anguish apparent. "You know she wouldn't want this. You know that."

"Maybe there's another curse, like Angel's. We," Spike wiped his eyes, "just have to keep her bound until we find it." Spike looked at Xander with a pleading expression.

Xander shook his head sadly. Spike watched as the young man closed his eyes. The flat voice that was heard next sounded nothing like Xander's more usual joyful and alive tone. "Spike, dust her before she wakes. Or I will."

Spike sobbed, "I can't! I -," Spike hugged himself as he started rocking back and forth. "I can't, Xander! I can't. I can't. I can't."

Xander's jaw clenched. Spike watched in horror as a stake came out of nowhere and plunged into Buffy's chest, causing an explosion of dust.

Spike let out a wretched wail. He barely noticed that Xander had fallen beside him and now held Spike tightly in his arms, whispering soothing words in his ears.

"Spike, I understand. It's going to be okay. Shh. It's all going to be okay."

Spike looked at the young man holding him so tightly. He felt safe and warm suddenly. "It will be?" Spike asked, timidly.

Xander nodded, running his fingers through Spike's hair. "Yes. What you did was wrong and wholly disrespectful, but you can't help it that this time you misplaced your priorities and your caring. I'm glad you didn't turn her when all of this really happened, or I would have had to stake you, too, for being such an arrogant ass." Xander kissed the top of Spike's hair. "I never want to have to stake you, Spike."

Spike answered by burrowing into Xander's embrace.

#####

Spike woke abruptly. It was the pre-dawn hour. He only vaguely remembered the dream- the nightmare about Buffy. He had turned her. Xander had shown up and demanded that Spike stake her before she could wake up. Xander had been the one to do so.

The turning and the staking, however, were not the part of the dream Spike was dwelling on. He was baffled by the safety and the peaceful calm he had felt when Xander had been holding him.

Pondering the situation, Spike fell back into sleep. This time, the sleep was dreamless.

#####

Waking up, Spike felt groggy. Frowning, he sat up. It was mid-day and he could hear Willow talking on the phone with someone.

Just then Dawn came bounding down the stairs. Seeing Spike's eyes were open, she said, "Hey sleepyhead! Look at that hair!" Dawn giggled.

Spike put his hands to his head. He closed his eyes to gather himself together. "Not one word. Hair products? Nearest ones?"

After Dawn had laughingly pointed the way, Spike rushed to calm down his hair. He could feel tufts sticking out, and he just knew there were tangles and frizzes.

He nearly ran into Willow on his way. She just snickered as he growled past.

Less than ten minutes later, Spike and his non-out of control hair made it back to the living room.

Spike could hear Dawn talking very loudly and excitedly about something. Probably relating to Willow what my hair looked like, Spike thought. Wait a minute. Willow already saw it, so what's Dawn talking about?

Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see Xander sitting on the couch with an amused grin.

Dawn was prancing around the room, still chuckling between words. "And then he said, 'Not one word. Hair products? Nearest ones?' I swear I could have DIED from laughing right then."

Renewed giggles from Dawn as she spotted Spike.

Spike attempted to glare daggers at her, but because he was still waking up, it didn't work. He gave up and sat in a chair. He then looked at Xander.

Xander's eyes were bright with laughter. The smile on his lips was going for smug, but actual amusement was there. "Hey there. Good to see you and Paul Mitchell have become reacquainted."

Spike tried to sneer, however, he managed only a smile and looked down, shaking his head.

Looking back up to Xander, Spike said, "What brings you here, anyway? You can't have known in advance that the little bit here would be in an exaggerating mood." Glaring at Dawn properly this time, Spike also raised his head in a gesture that, if it were able to speak, would say, "You are of no consequence, and you are short."

Dawn snorted. "You so said all that. Don't be Mr. Snarky with me. I have other dirt on you. And you know it."

Mentally frowning, Spike remained calm and cool on the exterior. Well, he thought. If she thinks that she does, then she probably does. I wonder what dirt she's talking about?

Looking to Xander for the answer to his previous question, Spike was struck with the recollection of his dream. Xander had held him and it had felt good, better than good, relaxed and safe.

Swallowing, Spike realized that Xander had responded, but the words had been jumbled in his mind. "What?"

Xander looked annoyed. "I said, Willow called and told me what happened to your crypt. I thought we could try to figure out who's behind it. You know, get in research mode."

Spike sat back. He was trying to process Xander being nice and thoughtful, the dream, and what it all meant. Mentally shrugging, Spike decided to attribute the former to Xander having a nice day and the latter to his subconscious being an idiot.

Outwardly Spike nodded. "Well, only got five continents to narrow it down to. Let's get started!"


TBC…