It took all of seven seconds for Spike's entire world to spiral into Crazy Land. Their proximity, as he held the Watcher in his books by his throat, allowed him to smell him clearly, and as much as Spike wanted to think otherwise, the answer he sought was clear: The Vampire he held truly was Rupert Giles, or what was left of him. Then, from the shadows around the bookcases, came two others, one snarling and the other growling low. "Play nice, Spike," Faith snarled.
"Does he have to? I wanna take him," Xander whined.
"You never could, Zeppo," Spike growled.
To Be Continued . . .