I'd tried to wait to call Giles.

Really, I totally had.

I'd even tried to sleep once we'd gotten back to the hotel, even though that had pretty much amounted to an unpleasant couple hours of me feeling way too jittery to lie still, to eventually falling into several hours of fitful sleep, to the inevitable instance of me screaming myself awake. I hadn't been able to remember the dreams clearly this time…which had been unsettling on an entirely different level than usual. Though the claim mark on the side of my throat had been burning, so if I had to guess I'd assume they were at least somewhat of the same variety. On the plus side, I guess I hadn't quite screamed loud enough this time to wake the dead.

Or, er, the undead I guess.

It had been just before 8:00am when I'd finally given up on remembering anything besides the stinging on my throat and the general sense of uneasiness I'd been feeling since the incident in the alleyway and decided to crawl out of bed. Too early to call Giles, too late to go back to sleep, so instead I'd showered. But instead of making me feel better, the shower had only given me more uninterrupted time to think about what had happened in the alley the night before. And having more uninterrupted time to think had only caused me to wig harder.

I'd been too exhausted by the time we'd reached the hotel last night to do a lot of thinking about much of anything at all, even with the unpleasant restlessness in my muscles. But alone in the shower, wide-awake….all I'd had to do was think about it. Which had only made me want to talk about it more.

So I'd finished the shower, and in an attempt to look and feel more like myself, I'd fixed my hair, thrown on a little makeup and some regular street clothes.

And then I'd called Giles. Still too early.

But he'd answered, so…there's that.

"So you don't have any idea what it means?" I ask him now, keeping my voice low as I pace absently in front of the bathroom door. I reach back and run a shaky hand through my hair, cast a quick glance over my shoulder toward the sleeping vampire.

Still sleeping.

Lucky.

On the other end of the line, Giles yawns. "Well I'm certain it was something having to do with your connection, I just can't say what exactly." I listen to him clear his throat and can imagine him sitting on his couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But it makes sense that you two being in a place of such significance for Spike would excite the link between your demons and cause you to…to react as you did."

He sounds uncomfortable, which would probably be funny if I weren't so freaked.

"But I don't get it," I say softly into the receiver as I turn and face the bed, to my husband sleeping there. My eyes land on the purple bruise my teeth have left on his neck and I shiver. "Why all of a sudden would I react violently toward him?"

"It wasn't you reacting to him, Buffy," my Watcher tells me quickly, something he's said to me once or twice already since we've been on the phone this morning. Something I'm honestly not so sure is true. "It was your demon. And I imagine it was it's way of showing possession, perhaps."

And that's sort of the problem, isn't it?

I bite down on the inside of my cheek and murmur, "Okay, but…I've felt my demon be all possession-y with Spike before." Lots of time before actually, if we're being honest. Normally it's just the flush of hot jealousy and a little stomach churning, but nothing else. Nothing quite so…vicious. I shake my head and add, "This was different, Giles."

He sighs. "Buffy, I appreciate the fact that what happened unnerved you but—"

"Unnerved me?" I interrupt, hissing into the phone and turning my back on the bed again, like somehow that will keep Spike from overhearing me. "Giles, this is way more than unnerving. This is full on wigsville. It was like I couldn't control myself, like…" I trail off, trying to think of a way to describe what it had been like. Finally, at a loss, I settle on, "It was like I wasn't even there."

There's a long silence on the other end of the line as my Watcher seems to consider what I've told him. The hotel room itself is quiet, too. And dark. All the drapes are heavy and drawn tight, blocking out what I think is the sunlight filtering in just beneath the curtains on either large window to my right.

I frown. I thought it was always supposed to be raining here?

"What does Spike think about all this?" Giles asks me, drawing my attention back to the conversation.

My eyes dart back to the vampire who's still sleeping, though now he's shifted positions on the bed. One arm up above his head, the other thrown over his eyes as though to block out the all but non-existent light.

What does Spike think about all this? It's a good question. I wish I knew for sure.

I sigh, folding my free arm protectively across my waist and shrugging even though I know he can't see me. "The same as you, pretty much. Or that's his story anyway." I glance down toward my feet, shuffle them once. "I don't know, he acted like he saw something weird at first but then two seconds later he was saying it was nothing, so—"

"Is he there with you?" Giles asks, sounding a lot more awake than he had just moments ago and interrupting me mid-sentence.

I frown, blink a few times. Then say slowly, "I…yeah. Why?"

"I'd like to speak with him, please."

I furrow my brow but don't argue. Just cross the room to the bed and sit down on the edge, reaching over to lay my hand over the vampire's still chest and shaking him lightly.

He grumbles in his sleep and rolls over toward me, dropping his arm away from over his eyes but not opening them. I watch him nuzzle his face deeper into the pillow, tousling his bleached curls in the process. I can feel the gentle rumble from his chest that sounds so much like purring.

I smile a little. I can't help it.

Pressing my palm a little harder to his chest, I shake him again. "Spike."

"Mmm?" He murmurs sleepily, and I watch his lashes flutter and his eyes open. They land on me, focus in, and then he's frowning and shifting up onto his elbows immediately. "What's wrong?"

I reach out to hand him the phone. "Giles wants to talk to you."

The vampire still looks confused, feels a little concerned, but he takes the phone from me without argument. Holding it up to his left ear, he stretches his right arm up over his head and mutters, "What the bloody hell are you doin' up, you of all people should understand the time difference." A beat. "Oh." Shrewd azure eyes shift toward me. "I see." Then he sighs, tosses the sheets off his lap and throws his legs over the side of the bed. I watch as he tucks the phone between his chin and his ear and grabs up the grey sweat pants he'd left on the floor the night before. Yanks them on. "Yeah. I know." There's a pause as he listens, then chuckles, standing up to stretch further as he says, "Easier said than done, that."

That has me frowning deeper than before.

I'm about to ask him what it is exactly that's easier said than done, having a super strong feeling it has something to do with me, when there's a knock on the door to our room. Spike's eyes meet mine, and he shrugs just as he answers another one of Giles's questions with a non-committal "sure", then waves me off to answer the door. I narrow my eyes at him but turn around anyway, taking just a second to peek into the peephole before throwing the door open.

I'm greeted by a very bight eyed, very chipper looking brunette.

Cordelia's standing in the hallway, dressed in an outfit that somehow looks both effortless and painstakingly put together at the same time, an impossibly wide smile and eyes that don't show even an ounce of jet lag.

I just stare at her for a second.

"Hey," she says happily. "Are you…" The smile falls a little as her eyes trail down from my face, and then she frowns. "Definitely not ready to go."

"Go?" I ask, eyes widening just a little.

"Shopping?" She asks back, raising two perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

It takes me longer than it should to realize what she's talking about, but once I do, I could kick myself. Shopping. Of course. Like we'd planned to do all day yesterday on the plane. In all the excitement from the night before I hadn't had a chance to let her know that the plans had changed. Sure, initially I'd figured the reason for that would be the whole keeping Spike and Angel from killing each other thing, but now it's less about that and a lot more about feeling the need to figure out what's happening with me. Finding out what all the grr had been about last night.

I don't think being away from Spike for the whole day is the best way to do that.

"Oh, God, Cordelia," I say, letting my shoulder slump into the side of the door. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot."

"I noticed," the brunette says.

"I really am sorry," I tell her, almost surprised by how much I mean it. Cordelia and I were never really friends friends, but we were sort of scratching at the surface of it before she'd left for L.A. And yesterday on the plane had been fun, apart from the swirling in my stomach. It would've been kinda nice to spend some more quality time with her before things get too crazy. But now's not exactly the time to be bonding. So I sigh, "I didn't mean to blank, I just…there's a lot going on right now. I don't know if the shopping spree thing is such a good idea—"

But Cordelia's shaking her head and holding her hands up before I can finish, saying, "I'm gonna stop you right there." She drops her hands, widens her eyes. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've been shopping? With another real life girl?" A beat passes. Then, "Please don't make me take Wesley."

I don't think it's meant to be funny, but it makes me laugh anyway. Which makes the brunette smile.

Which makes me feel majorly guilty.

"I'm not above begging," she adds, reaching up and interlocking her fingers in front of her chest for emphasis.

Oh, boy.

I slump further against the open door and sigh, shaking my head. "I don't know if it's such a great idea, being gone all day. It's just…" I let the words trail off, glancing over my shoulder and back into the room toward Spike, who's still speaking to Giles in a low voice. "Things got a little crazy last night–"

"Oh, Buffy, please." The hands are back up in front of her again, and when I look back she's making a face at me. "Really don't need the details."

"Okay, seriously?" I demand, eyes wide as I push myself off the door and standing up straight. "Why does everyone always jump to that?"

And barely a second later I feel the edge of the door tugged out of my grip and swung fully open, revealing a very shirtless Spike as he slides into the empty space beside me. He slips the phone gracefully into the back pocket of my jeans with one hand and braces the other on the flat edge of the doorframe, a smug expression on his face. Like he knows exactly how pretty he is.

Cordelia raises a knowing brow at me.

And I sigh, giving up.

"Cordelia," Spike says, managing to make it sound completely casual even as he's standing there all half naked and annoyingly perfect. "Good morning."

She smiles wryly up at him, saying, "Looks like it was for one of us."

His response is an appreciative chuckle, and I can feel his eyes on me as he winds his arm around my waist and settles his hand over my hip. He's in a really good mood. Like…a weirdly good mood. I can feel it, soft and warm as it feathers itself around me. I frown and glance up toward his face, but he's already turned his eyes back to Cordelia.

"What brings you 'round here bright and early?" Spike asks her.

"I came by to pick up Buffy for our pre-scheduled shopping trip," she says, turning her attention back on me.

"Yeah," I agree with a nod, turning my gaze to my vampire again. "But I was just trying to explain to Cordelia that I don't think said shopping trip is gonna happen."

"Why not?" Spike asks, frowning. "Sounds like a brilliant idea to me."

Wait, what?

I frown back. "It does?"

I feel like I'm missing something.

Spike can tell. "Sure, luv. Could use a little female companionship I'd wager." He pulls his arm away from my waist and tilts his head. Reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and adding, "I could do with a little alone time myself, catch a little more shut-eye."

He's not commanding me, not exactly, but the look in his eyes now is obvious. To me anyway, even if it isn't to the brunette standing in front of us. He really does want me to go today.

I just can't tell why.

"Great, it's settled," Cordelia says, beaming at me, jumping on the opening that Spike's given her before I have a chance to argue with either of them. "I'll just wait in the lobby while you get dressed."

"I am dressed," I tell her flatly, raising a brow.

"Oh," she says, then quickly smiles again, a little awkwardly this time. "Okay, well great. Let's go."

I claim to need to grab a few things, promising to meet Cordelia in the lobby in ten minutes. I wait for her to turn and head toward the bank of elevators about halfway down the hall, wait for the ding as the elevator doors open and sliding sound as they shut again.

Then I shut the door and whirl on Spike, demanding, "Okay, what was that about?"

He doesn't look or sound surprised. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean, that I don't think me leaving for the entire day is a great idea right now," I tell him, voice low as I step further into the room and approach him. "After last night—"

"After last night a day out in the sun sounds like exactly what you need," Spike says, the words forceful and commanding even though his voice is soft. He isn't angry. I can tell because I can still feel the light, feathery feeling on my skin. He's just…certain.

I stand still for a moment and stare at him. His eyes hold mine unwaveringly, and I start to put two and two together.

Taking another couple steps toward him, I ask, "What did Giles say to you?"

Spike sighs, shaking his head. "He didn't say anythin' to me, luv. I just think you should go is all. Have a birds' day out, buy yourself somethin' nice. Hell, go see some of those ruddy tourist traps that are only open during the day." He stops in front of me and reaches up, wrapping the end of a golden curl around his index finger. Tugs on it gently. "Do somethin' normal for a change."

"I do normal things," I murmur, the words falling flat and unconvincing even to my own ears.

"Not enough," the vampire counters sternly, unraveling my hair from his finger and scanning my face seriously. "Besides, who knows when we'll be back this way again with enough time for you to have a look around. I want you to see the city, not just the bits I can show you."

And the way the stupid vampire is looking at me now, whether he's using the connection between us or not…God. It's not fair.

Giving in, I sigh. Meet his eyes again and ask, "What are you gonna do while I'm gone?"

Spike pretends to think it over for a minute before shrugging, turning his back on my to open up the drawer of his nightstand.

"Was thinkin' I'd drop in on Angel," he says casually, pulling an envelope out of the drawer and turning toward me again. Eyes bright, he grins. "See about havin' that little heart to heart you were so keen on us gettin' to yesterday."

Picking up my purse from off the wooden dresser I give him a look, eyebrows raised. "You're not funny."

But he's chuckling and so am I.

"Don't worry pet," the vampire breezes, pulling something out of the envelope and stepping toward me again. "I'll stay far, far away from the brooding wonder. Probably will just sleep. Maybe watch a little telly." He slips the black credit card into my purse, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my lips as he does. "I'll be fine."

And I really hope he will be.

"Be good," I tell him in a voice as mockingly stern as I can.

"You too," he tells me, eyes twinkling playfully.

And I cover for the uncertainly I'm still feeling about leaving for the day by leaning up to kiss him one more time.

"I'll never get used to the way people look at me when I ask for a pint of pig's blood," Cordelia mutters as we exit the small butcher shop we'd found and start back down the sidewalk toward the hotel.

"I know," I agree on a laugh, tucking the brown paper bag more securely under my left arm to keep it upright and gripping my other shopping bags a little tighter as I do. "If they really think it's that weird they shouldn't bother selling it by the pint in the first place."

The brunette beside me reaches over and takes one of my bags to free up my right hand, saying, "Thank you, exactly my point."

I smile gratefully at her and readjust again, distributing the rest of the day's evidence more evenly this time.

We'd been on the lookout for a butcher shop all afternoon, knowing we'd eventually have to stop and pick up some food for Angel and Spike, or "the boys" as Cordelia had begun referring to them as throughout the day. Funny for all sorts of reasons, the least of which being that while hardly being boys themselves, the vampires would have a total conniption if they heard us calling them that. Which is worth it in and of itself. We'd found one roughly four blocks from the hotel, which had been perfect for us.

The day had been a fun one. Way more fun than the original plan of Council dealing obviously, but also just fun in and of it's own right. We'd done the shopping thing, stopped for lunch, strolled around some of the more obvious tourist traps just as Spike had asked me to do. And yeah okay, I admit, it had been a lot fun. I'd even managed to semi-forget about the incident in the alley last night for a little while, been able to put the whole demon thing aside for the majority of the afternoon.

That was until we'd entered the butcher shop five minutes ago and I'd been assaulted with the scent of fresh animal blood. I'd had an instant and visceral reaction to the smell, my stomach immediately clenching, hit with a rolling wave of nausea.

Not because it had smelled bad to me, but because it had smelled good.

After setting aside the initial horror of recognizing that particularly wiggy fact, and after subsequently rationalizing that the blood smelling not disgusting to me had probably been another aspect of the connection that's just gotten stronger with time, I'd managed to get it together and ignore it.

I've been ignoring it since.

I'm ignoring it now.

Now that we're only about three blocks away from the hotel and the sun is just dipping below the tallest buildings to our left, casting the busy street and sidewalk in long shadows. Now that I'm trying to figure out whether or not this is something I want to, or need to, tell Spike about. If this is anything at all. I don't think it is.

But what if I'm wrong?

That's all I'm focused on when Cordelia suddenly slows her walk, coming to a stop and forcing me to stop too.

"You know what," she says, and she smiles at me but wrinkles her nose up like she's almost surprised by what she's about to say. "This was fun, Buffy. Thanks."

And I just kind of have to laugh at the craziness of the situation I've found myself in. Pushing the pig's blood issue way, way to the side, deciding to not worry about it unless I absolutely have to, I smile back and relax into the easy companionship we'd built during the day.

"Hey, don't thank me," I tease her, waving the black card in her direction before tucking it safely back inside my purse. "Thank Giles."

So no, a new dress that I'll probably never have an occasion to realistically wear and a pair of slightly too expensive boots for Cordelia aren't exactly what my Watcher would probably consider "emergencies", but I have a feeling he'd had something to do with insisting I go out on this little excursion to begin with so really, he has no one to blame but himself.

Or at least that's what I'll tell him.

"God, Giles," the other girl half-laughs, tossing her head back as we begin walking again. She looks toward me. "How is Giles?"

"He's good," I say, smiling and glancing down at the ground as we walk. "And Xander, and Willow…the whole gang is good. Happy." I look back up at her again and shrug. "Which, ya know, is nice for a change." I pause, biting down on the corner of my lip and trying to decide what to say next, unsure if bringing up Xander had been the best idea or not. I clear my throat. "Um, you seem happy too. Is L.A. everything you wanted it to be?"

"Oh, totally," she breezes. "Just with a few more beheadings and a lot less shoe shopping." She pauses, then nods thoughtfully. "But it's nice to be doing something, you know? Making some kind of difference."

If I'd been shocked at how much fun I'd actually had being out with the other girl all day today, then I'm completely caught off guard now. Sure, I'd figured that Cordelia might have changed at least a little bit since the last time I'd seen her. Two years in a city like L.A., doing the work that Angel Investigations does, it would have to have some kind of influence.

I just don't think I'd banked on just how much of an influence.

"Yeah," I murmur, biting my lip. "I know. So, your visions…do they—"

Cordelia eyes me sardonically as she cuts me off with, "Hurt like a bitch? Oh, yeah. But they're helpful. I mean, they help Angel, so I can't complain too much."

The way she says my ex's name has me arching an eyebrow.

"So," I begin slowly, cautiously. Dipping my toe in the potentially awkward water. "Are you and Angel…"

"Whoa, no," she cuts me off in a flash, shaking her head vigorously as she laughs. "No, no." A beat. "No."

Oh.

I fight the urge to frown, try to chuckle instead. "Okay, so that's a no."

But there's just a trace of disappointment in my voice, and I only realize after I've asked the question and gotten my answer that I'd kind of been hoping for a different one. I don't know why. For the longest time the thought of anyone, anyone, else with Angel made me a total crazy person. And the thought of him with Cordelia, specifically…that had turned me into an actual crazy person all those years ago. But she's so different now, and I can see it. How well they could fit together if they wanted to. Now I'd kind of just like to know that Angel's found someone that makes him happy.

Not too happy, because…bad. But happy.

I guess it's no mystery why. I am. Why shouldn't he be, too?

Beside me, Cordelia slows her walk once more.

"Don't get me wrong. Angel…" she trails off, then glances toward me again. "I love the guy, but…no. That's one big pile of heartache I'm not looking to step into."

But there's just a little something in her eyes that makes me think that isn't exactly true.

"I get that," I say, because there isn't much else to say.

And because I do.

It grows quiet between us for a moment.

"How about you and Spike," the brunette says, cutting through the slightly awkward silence as we pick our pace up again. She grins sideways at me. "All smitten and in love. Which is just so weird, by the way."

I laugh and nod, glad for the conversational direction change. "You get used to it. But...yeah," I admit. "Kinda weird."

Cordelia fixes me with a look that says my vague "kinda weird" doesn't even begin to cover it.

"It would be completely disturbing if it wasn't so sweet. Freakishly sweet. Actually, it's kind of disturbing because of the sweetness." Off the deadpan expression I shoot her, she tosses her head back and laughs. "Oh what, it's Spike. Blood thirsty killer, tortured people with railroad spikes, all that jazz. And now he's basically a puppy dog with fangs." She shakes her head. "It's just a little surprising."

Well, that much at least is one hundred percent true.

"Spike is definitely full of surprises," I muse, then frown, wrinkle my nose up. "I don't think I'd call him a puppy dog, though."

If anything, my vampire is like a tamed jungle cat. Or a lion. You know, the kind you see people training to give hugs and stuff like that? They're fierce and loyal, and they might seem all fluffy and cuddly. And for the most part they totally are.

But they could turn and rip you to shreds any second they wanted to.

"Still," she counters, oblivious to the visual image I have running through my head and sighing almost wistfully. "He's so…different with you."

"Yeah, he is," I say softly, feeling the corners of my lips tugging up. Different. If there was ever a perfect, wonderful, all encompassing word for what Spike is that would be it. I meet Cordelia's eyes again and say, "He's so different from what I thought he was."

"That's what I've realized about Angel," the brunette agrees with a slow nod. Then, "Do you think those two idiots even realize how much they have in common?"

It's my turn to throw my head back and laugh, glad someone other than me had been the first to point it out. "They'd probably kill you for even suggesting it."

"Men," she grumbles, rolling her eyes up to the darkening sky as we round the corner and spot the lit up awning of the hotel. "Even the undead ones have too much testosterone."

I'm not sure that truer words have ever been spoken.

"Still, so far so good, right?" she asks, obviously referencing the lack of dustage that occurred on the plane yesterday.

I nod.

"One day down, thirteen more to go. Who knows," I say, glancing her way as we slow our speed and approach the wide cement steps that lead up toward the open glass doors and into the lobby. "We just might all make it back home in one piece."

And I look up, just enough time to register the flaring rage in my stomach and the tingling in my fingertips as I see Spike and Angel come into view. Standing on the flat cement landing at the top of the stairs leading into the lobby, glaring at each other. They haven't spotted us yet, we're not close enough, but it's very obvious that they're arguing about something and it's very obvious that something is about to go very wrong.

And just as I've had that thought, Spike winds his arm back and throws a hard left hook. It catches Angel below the jaw and sends him stumbling backward, falling haphazardly down the steps and ending sprawled out on the sidewalk.

My vampire growls, maybe not loud enough for anyone else to hear it but I sure do, watching numbly with Cordelia frozen beside me as he begins to walk down the steps toward the brunette on the ground.

Suddenly on high alert, I snap back into the moment and rush toward the corner of the sidewalk nearest them. Set my bags, purse and their blood down on the sidewalk and launch myself forward, situating my body directly between the two snarling vampires.

Placing a bracing palm to Spike's chest, I find his eyes and demand, "What the hell is going on here?"

He points a hard finger over my shoulder toward Angel. "This wanker broke that body swapping bitch out of prison, that's what's goin' on," he growls, the blue of his eyes flecked and swirling with gold as he fights to keep a hold on his demon.

It takes me all of a split second to realize who he's talking about, what he's talking about and what exactly that means.

Faith.

Eyes blazing, I drop my palm from Spike's chest and whirl on Angel. "What?"

But the brunette vampire isn't looking at me. He isn't looking at anyone, except to glare daggers at my husband from over my shoulder.

"I didn't break her out of anything, Bleach Boy," he snarls, leaping back to his feet and making a show of straightening his coat. "She broke herself out. I just…gave her a job to do."

Head spinning, already furious, I feel like I've just flipped on the TV and started an episode of a familiar show halfway through.

"What job?" I demand from the brunette, then whip my narrowed gaze back to the bleached blonde. "And how did you know about this?"

My vampire is practically vibrating with rage beneath my hand as he nods his head once toward Angel, then over toward Wesley and says, "Overheard these two tossers chattin' about it when I came down to the lobby to meet you."

"I'm afraid there may have been a slight misunderstanding," Wesley chimes in, now standing beside Cordelia on the sidewalk next to our bags.

I hadn't even noticed him come down the steps.

"Yeah?" Spike raises both eyebrows and turns to angle his body toward the ex-Watcher, planting both hands on his hips. "So I somehow misunderstood the fact that you and your little gang helped bust a psychotic bint that's gone after my wife more than once out of prison?"

Wesley frowns. "Well...no."

"Okay," I say, my voice deadly and low as I glance back and forth between the three of them. "Someone better start explaining. Now."

"Like I was trying to tell Captain Peroxide here," Angel offers pointedly, glaring once in my husband's direction before looking back at me. "If you'd just call Giles I'm sure he'd be willing to explain everything."

My eyes go wide.

"Giles knows about this?" I ask, seething anger momentarily replaced by shock. "How does Giles know?"

Nobody seems to be in a hurry to answer that particular question. I watch Angel dart a knowing gaze toward the ex-Watcher. Watch Wesley nod once in response. Then he finally turns back toward me, his voice and expression grave as he crosses his arms over his chest and tells me, "Faith is in Sunnydale."

The ground beneath my feet tilts at an odd angle, and I'm seeing red.

"Faith is in Sunnydale," I echo Wesley's words slowly, feeling my jaw tighten and a rush of pure fury rocket down my back. I turn cold, narrowed eyes on Angel. "You mean the Faith that tried to kill me, steal my life and go after everyone every single person I care about...that Faith is in Sunnydale?"

The larger vampire swallows and takes a step closer to me. "Yes, but—"

I punch him.

Slam my fist full force into his nose hard enough to make my knuckles ache, hard enough to send him tumbling back down to the cement. I watch him push himself back onto his feet and shake his head out, straighten his coat again.

"Just listen—" he begins once more, but I'm already moving to cut him off.

"She went after my friends, Angel," I snarl at the vampire, heedless at this point of whether or not there other people around, people nearby who might be watching. "She went after my family. And she's just out, wandering around my town free as a bird?" My fingers are tingling, itching as I curl them into fists at my sides.

It's the only thing I can do to keep from hitting him again.

"She's hardly wandering aimlessly, Buffy," Wesley interjects, drawing my eyes back toward him. He clears his throat and steps forward, body language cautious. "Gunn is watching her. Keeping her in line."

I turn and narrow my eyes. That's supposed to make me feel better?

"Oh, good," I say, gesturing absently with my hand. "Because Gunn has all the strength of your average human."

Unruffled, the ex-Watcher tells me, "He also has weapons."

Coolly, I raise a skeptical brow. "And he'll be ready to use them?"

To my left, the brunette vampire moves out of the easy reach of my fist, sliding into place beside Wesley and effectively placing Cordelia between us.

Whether he's done it on purpose or not I can't tell, but it rubs me the very wrong way.

We've all shifted now, almost unconsciously so we're no longer blocking the entrance into the hotel but rather standing to the side of the cement steps, shielded in a dark shadow cast over us by the awning. Forming a sort of horseshoe shape, away from the harsh brightness of the spotlights.

Wesley seems to consider my question a moment before he feels prepared to answer. But when he does, his voice is eerily calm. Level.

"If he has to, yes." His eyes are clear and steady behind his glasses, unwavering as they gaze into mine. "Those were the instructions."

My brow furrows. Instructions?

"Oh, I see," Spike murmurs, chuckling dryly as he moves to fill in the small space between us. "That's what that little pow wow was all about yesterday mornin', then." He shifts narrowed eyes toward Angel. "A meeting of the minds to suss out how to keep the psycho Slayer in line while big daddy's away?"

"We have everything under control," the darker vampire snaps.

"Mmm," the bleached blonde rumbles, lifting both brows in challenge. "Seems like."

"I can't believe you did this," I tell Angel, watching his dark eyes turn toward me. Then I pause, reconsider and add, "Actually, I can. I can totally believe you did this." God, this whole let me go behind your back and do something you'll hate because only I really know what's best for you crap has his name written all over it. I shake my head, fold my arms up tight over my chest. "Who all knew about this genius plan of yours, Angel? You, Wesley, Gunn? Giles, apparently?"

It's quiet in the small half circle as I wait for him to answer. No one moves.

"That's it," he finally promises, actually looking a little bit sheepish for a change.

"Hey," Cordelia complains, reaching over to smack him in the chest with one of her shopping bags. "When were you gonna tell me?"

"More importantly, when were you going to tell me?" I demand, then narrow my eyes and shift back on my heels. "Or were you just banking on me never finding out."

He doesn't answer that question. Instead, he simply lowers his voice and says, "I was just trying to help."

I gape at him, finger starting to itch and tingle all over again. "By putting little miss hack and slash back in proximity of my family?"

"You'd rather have had them go two weeks unprotected?" Angel counters.

I step toward him. "They wouldn't have been unprotected, they have—"

"Giles?" he finishes for me, widening his eyes knowingly.

I take a step back.

"A-and Willow," I add, suddenly not feeling as confident as I had moments ago. I glance up at Spike, then back forward again. "I had her put a protection spell around the house before we left."

"Alright, so that takes care of your family. But what about the rest of the town?" Angel presses, raising his brows. "The world? I just thought you'd feel better if you knew the Hellmouth was being watched by another Slayer, that's all."

Everything goes quiet between the five of us again as the truth of that statement settles over us like dust.

That…kind of makes sense.

Still, you'd have thought I could have been given a chance to weigh in here. Brought into the loop. My family, my friends, my Hellmouth. Damnit. I should have at least been considered.

"Then why couldn't you have just told me that?" I ask, uncrossing my arms so I can gesture out wide. "Why make with the big secrecy?"

And why hadn't Giles bothered to mention it to either Spike or me today?

But Angel's already responding. His expression impassive, he asks pointedly, "Would you have listened?"

Oh.

Well.

Okay, probably not.

Stuck, but refusing to admit it, I mutter, "That's not the point."

"It kind of is," my ex disagrees. "Look, now you don't have to worry about anything that would or could go wrong back home. You can focus on why we're here, on getting the answers you want. Knowing that your family is safe—"

Heat floods my chest all over again.

"Safe?" I repeat, interrupting him on a low growl. "How safe do you think they can possibly be with Faith around?"

"Safer than without her," the vampire insists steadily.

I'm about to open my mouth to argue further, or just to plain old yell, but Spike's wrapping his hand around mine and tugging me backward before I can.

He pulls me into the corner of the outer edge of the steps, and I let him. Gaze on mine, then a quick shift over toward the three pairs of eyes still on us, he keeps a hold of my hand and sighs. "As much as I bloody well hate to admit this, pet…Peaches might have a point."

I blink several times sure that I've heard him wrong. Then, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Hear me out," Spike murmurs, his voice and the pressure of his hand in mine soothing. "Angel might be an arrogant prick and a prize idiot but I have a hard time believin' he'd ever willingly put your mum and the bit in danger."

"What's with the changing tune all of a sudden?" I ask, annoyed but no longer seeing red. Whether that's due to Spike's hand on mine or because I'm just slowly starting to come to the same realization as everyone else, I don't know. Don't really care.

It's just nice to have the heat leaving my chest.

"You know me, sweetheart. Act first, reason later. Takes me a bit to catch on but I usually do." He smiles briefly, turns his eyes back toward Angel and again slowly back to mine. I watch as he purses his lips and hollows his cheeks, clearly thinking over something. Then murmurs, "If this is somethin' Rupert felt comfortable with, maybe we should take half a mo to reevaluate."

Of course.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Giles has been known to make some bad decisions, you know," I tell him purposefully, watching the corner of his mouth twitch up. I sigh. "Look, I get that Angel thinks Faith's all rehabilitated and repenty or whatever, but I haven't seen it. People don't just change like that, Spike. Not overnight."

"Don't they?" the vampire counters steadily.

And I pause.

On the one hand he does have a point. It in reality, it took me very little convincing at all to accept that Spike had changed. That being with me, falling in love with me, had played some kind of part in that. Even lacking the soul that Faith obviously has, he'd managed. He has to fight the monster inside of him every day to do it, but he does. I've given him ultimate benefit of the doubt because I love him.

Is it fair that I've set a double standard for someone like Faith?

God, you know, things would be so much easier if the Council had been right about vampires.

Or if Spike wasn't such an enigma.

I sigh and shake my head, exhaling through my nose. "It's different, okay? She just…no one has ever made me feel the way that Faith did."

Ever.

I don't feel like it's totally irrational of me not to want to open my life back up to someone who's tried to take it away so many times before.

And as usual, my husband manages to find and say the one thing that manages to take all the heat out of my fire, cooling the flames as he rubs cool circles into the back of my hand.

"Why don't we give the old man a ring and see what's what, get the full story," he suggests, tilting his head to the side, azure eyes bright even in the extra darkness of shadow. "Know you want to be here, luv. Also know it's not easy for you to leave that lot behind. You honestly tellin' me you won't rest a touch easier knowing there's someone as strong as you lookin' out for 'em?"

"I hate it when you make good points," I grumble.

Spike chuckles, and it turns into a sigh as he looks up, gaze focused on something somewhere over my head. "Yeah, well," he murmurs, dropping his eyes to mine again. "I hate it when I agree with Angel so I guess we're even."

I sigh, a shuddering deep breath exhaled through pursed lips as I stare up at him. Then nod.

"Buffy," Wesley calls my name, causing me to turn my head in his direction again. He steps closer to us and sighs. "I know you and Faith have a bit of a rocky past. As do I," he reminds me, his voice coaxing and still that same eerie calm it had been before. "But I assure you…every precaution has been taken. Gunn wouldn't allow anything to happen to your family."

"I promise," Angel adds quietly, the expression on his face surprisingly earnest.

And I know exactly what the expression on my face tells him when I meet his eyes again. Careful to drop my voice to as menacing a low as I can manage and fixing his eyes with mine, I breathe, "If anything happens to them, to any of them, it's on you."

Angel just nods once.

I turn my back on him, pick up my bags from off the sidewalk and head inside.

A couple hours later and Spike and I are seated at a table near the back of the pub we'd stopped in the night before, and Cordelia and Wesley are sitting across from us.

And I'm just a little surprised by how much fun the four of us are having, considering the way we'd left things on the sidewalk. When we'd gotten back to our room Spike had gone straight for the brown paper bag, pulling out one of the two pint's I'd bought for him earlier and opening it up. I hadn't mentioned anything to him about the creepy scratch and sniff moment at the butcher shop, but when he'd decided to take his blood out onto the balcony for a self-prescribed blood and smoke break I hadn't exactly been upset about it.

Instead, I'd pushed the balcony door shut and called Giles again.

After a solid ten minutes of me yelling at my Watcher for not bothering to tell me he'd known about the whole Faith thing to begin with, and another ten minutes of allowing him to explain his reasoning for not bothering to tell me, he'd actually put me on the phone with the psycho Slayer herself.

Which…actually hadn't been all bad, once the initial wigfest had ended.

Not to mention I'd felt loads better after getting to threaten her myself.

I mean, still super, super angry. But better in terms of the no imminent danger befalling my friends and family.

It hadn't been long after that that my rumbling stomach had gotten the better of me and I'd asked Spike if we could go and get some of the "traditional" food he'd been filling my head about the night before. Upon wandering into the cozy pub beside the hotel it had taken us only a few seconds to get waved down by Cordelia, and after giving me a plaintive shrug of his shoulders, my vampire had agreed to a little extra company over dinner.

Now, one perfectly battered fish filet, two beers and too many of those incredible French fries…or as Spike and Wesley have been constantly correcting me…chips in, and I can say that we're all honestly enjoying ourselves.

"You want another, pet?" Spike asks, picking up my empty mug and shaking it playfully at me. He's getting way too big of a kick out of me being just slightly buzzed, but it's not my fault I don't drink. Ever. The last time I had any kind of foray into the wonderful world of beer was last year when I'd gone Neander-Buffy. I haven't exactly been in a hurry to repeat that little adventure.

Granted, the beer here is way better than the crap at the bar at UC Sunnydale.

"Yeah," I tell him honestly, because I do want another one. Then I sigh. "But I probably shouldn't. Wait, what time's our flight tomorrow?"

"6:30," Spike purrs.

My brow furrows. "PM?"

He chuckles, "Mmhm."

I love the way his chuckles get all rumbly in his chest, spreading more pleasant, buzzing warmth across my skin. I smile and say, "One more." I watch my vampire nod, then set the empty mug back down and get up from his chair. "Wait," I say quickly, reaching for his arm and tugging him back down. "Wait, wait."

Spike slumps back into the chair, eyeing me through his lashes as he exhales, "Yes?"

"You're cute," I tell him, smiling. Relaxed.

"You're snockered," he tells me, but he's smiling too.

I'm not. Not really.

But I lean into him anyway, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and giggling, "But I feel so much better now."

"Maybe you don't need another then," Spike murmurs, smiling back against my lips before pulling away.

"Maybe I don't," I agree, tilting my head to the side. "But I want one. We're on vacation?"

Okay, so that might be a little bit of a stretch, but it seems to work so I don't really care.

"Right," he says, tossing a sardonic glance across the table at our audience and getting back up to his feet. He looks down at me and winks, saying, "Sit tight, I'll be right back."

I watch him head back toward the bar, biting down on my smiling bottom of my lip and liking the way the black denim clings to powerful muscles of his thighs.

"See," Cordelia murmurs, bringing my attention back in her direction to see that she's speaking to Wesley. "It's so freaky, right?"

One eyebrow raised high, the ex-Watcher says simply, "I really have to agree."

"You're just jealous," I tell him, fighting the urge to stick my tongue out too and popping one of my remaining fries in my mouth.

Wesley actually seems to think about that for a minute before he frowns and says, "Oddly, yes."

There's another half-second pause as Cordelia and I lock eyes from across the table, and then we both burst out laughing.

"You know who else is jealous?" I ask once the giggle fit has died down, picking up another fry and using it to point across the table for emphasis. "Angel. With his stupid hair and his always knowing what's best for everybody else."

Wesley sighs and sets his glass down on the table. "He really was just trying to help."

"Well, great," I grumble, chewing loudly on the end of the pointer fry. "Maybe next time he should try something that might actually help instead of make everything worse."

Cordelia frowns, propping her elbow up on the table and dropping her head into her hand. "I thought you felt better?"

It hadn't taken me long into my first beer of the night before I'd been telling them all the details about what I'd said to Giles, and what he'd said to me. I'd admitted to feeling better, but only after making them both swear they wouldn't tell Angel that.

Not yet, at least.

"I do," I mutter now, knowing she's caught me. "I think I'm more mad he didn't tell me than anything else."

Cordelia laughs lightly, sitting up straight again and leaning back in her chair to say, "Probably just trying to avoid getting his ass kicked like it did back there."

"That why the great poof decided not to grace us with his presence tonight then?" Spike muses, setting a fresh glass down in front of me and another whiskey in front of himself, sliding effortlessly down into his seat and draping an automatic and careless arm over my shoulders.

Cordelia flashes him a wry smile. "I think he was more worried he'd end the night in a dust buster if he did."

"Good call," Spike agrees, raising his fresh glass to her as he smirks and takes a slow sip.

"This is way more fun anyway," I say, swallowing the large sip of beer I've just taken and setting my mug down excitedly. "Ooo, it's like a double date. Didn't you two have a thing…or something?" I frown. "At some point?"

Both Cordelia's and Wesley's eyes go wide.

"Oh," my vampire purrs, curling his tongue up behind his teeth as he gazes across the table. "Now that is interesting."

"And on that incomparably uncomfortable note," Wesley murmurs, planting his palms on the table and pushing himself up to his feet. "I think I'll say goodnight. Cordelia, do you want me to walk you back to the hotel?"

She thinks about it for a minute before shrugging and saying, "Eh, why not? Let these two have their date night."

We say our goodnights and watch the two of them walk away. Spike waits just until they've disappeared through the pub's door before clearing his throat, angling his body more closely toward mine. "Date night?" he asks blithely, arching a brow.

"Yeah," I say, shrugging. "It's a thing." He flutters long lashes at me and I sigh, adding, "A normal thing."

Spike tips the edge of his whiskey glass against the empty half of my beer, making a bright clinking sound as he asks, "This is normal for you then, is it?"

He's getting at some kind of point I know, but I don't really want to get into it right now.
So I finish swallowing the sip I've just taken and wipe the corner of my mouth, reminding him, "Hey, you offered."

But the vampire had looked more than a little surprised when I'd taken him up on it.

"Buffy," he murmurs, glittering eyes fixed on mine, the warm glow from his arm around my shoulders melding into the buzzing glow from the alcohol. "What's this about?"

The better question might be what isn't this about, but he doesn't actually need me to tell him that. Even if I haven't told him I'm still bothered about what happened last night, or that I'm a little wigged by the sweet, coppery trace of blood I can still taste on his lips, he should know without needing to read my mind that enough bizarre has happened just in the last twenty-four hours to warrant a little extra relaxation.

"This isn't about anything," I tell him as earnestly as I can, my head nice and light. "I'm just trying to relax and this is how people my age do that. You were the one who told me this morning I should do more normal things." I lean into his shoulder and pick up my mug again, eyeing the foam on the top as I swirl the amber colored liquid around. My eyes shift sideways. "Besides, this is probably the last night we'll have in Europe where we'll be able to relax like this, so sue me for trying to enjoy it."

For whatever reason this seems to soften him, his arm tightening a little around me as his eyes continue to search mine. Then he nods, sniffs once and says brightly, "Right. Well then, date night is young and so are you." He grins at me when I smack his arm, tilting his head seductively to the side. "Anythin' in particular you fancy doin'?"

"Wow," I murmur, looking out from our little glass dome at my bird's eye view of London.

Behind me, Spike sets his chin down on my shoulder. "Took the word right out of my mouth, Slayer." He exhales through his nose, the air stirring my hair as he says, "Can honestly say I've never seen the city look quite like this."

When I'd told Spike I wanted to see the London Eye he'd teased me the whole way here, laughing at how much of a "bloody tourist" I am.

He isn't laughing now.

My lips twitch up into a small smile and I lean my back into his chest, lay my left hand over his. Running my palm over the cool metal of his wedding band, enjoying the bizarre normalcy of the moment, I let myself fully embrace being a tourist for the night. Let my eyes scan over the view in front of us; the bright glow of the city lights, the reflection they make on the river's surface.

"It's really beautiful," I say after a minute, voice soft.

"It certainly is," Spike agrees, his voice equally soft.

I turn to glance over my shoulder to find the vampire staring at me instead of at the view and laugh. Slapping him in the chest with the back of my hand, I tell him, "God, you're so lame."

"Can't help it, can I?" he teases, putting on a big show of flinching away from my harmless smack as he laughs, too. "Bein' back here's bringing William out in spades. Next thing you know I'll be a nervous, stammering wreck and…spoutin' off bad poetry." He looks away from me again, the smirk on his face melting into something softer as he turns his eyes out front and over the cityscape.

"I like the poetry," I offer, a little lamely but completely sincere. I had liked the poetry. Or the poetry he'd read and recited for me those couple times before. I'd always known the poetry thing had been something he'd carried over with him from when he was human, from when he was William. Or at least I'd assumed as much, given the fact that he'd carried the Tennyson poems around with him for well over a hundred years. He'd never come out and said as much though, so the fact that he's been the one to bring it up now feels…well, significant somehow.

"Ah, you like the good poetry," Spike corrects me, shaking his head. Still not looking in my direction as he lowers his voice and adds, "Not so sure you'd've been a fan of old William's."

I snap my head back toward him, blinking. Eyes fixed to his profile, I wait for him to say something else. Or to pretend like he hadn't just said what he had. Or for my ears to unclog themselves so I can hear right again. Something. Anything.

But nothing happens.

Finally, I swallow and say, "You never told me you wrote poetry."

His eyes are wide when they shoot back to mine, a fluttering jolt of something that feels an awful lot like regret striking me quickly in my stomach before a it's gone again, pushed out by a flood of warmth as Spike's muscles visibly relax.

"That's because it's not worth talkin' about," he tells me, a new sparkle in his eye that hadn't been there before. "Bloody awful, it was."

"I don't believe that," I tell him quietly.

"No?" My vampire turns me back around to face front, the glow of the lock face in Big Ben capturing my attention once more as Spike wraps his arms around me and lowers his mouth to my ear. I hear him inhale, and when he speaks again his voice is gravelly and low. "'Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side, So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide, But lose themselves in utter emptiness.'" He turns his head slightly to feather his cool lips against my cheek. "'Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep. They never learnt to love who never knew to weep.'"

The last words seem to hang in the air around us, the melody of them achingly sweet and tender and only made more so by the pressure of his chest against my back and his lips on my skin. The incredible, heady floor to ceiling view of the city out in front of us.

Oh.

Whoa.

"That didn't sound rubbishy to me," I whisper.

"Probably because that wasn't mine," Spike whispers back.

The spell of the poem broken, but in a good way, I laugh out loud.

"Cheater." I gently elbow him in the ribs, feeling his answering chuckle vibrate deep into my back and make me feel warm all over again. I turn to meet his eyes, saying, "I want to hear one of yours. Or have you conveniently forgotten all of them?"

He smirks at me. "Can't remember a blessed one."

"Sure you can't," I mutter, but don't push him. I don't need to. He's already shared a lot with me, more than I think he'd ever have really wanted to. Why he's been all tune change-y lately, I don't know…but I also don't really care. Definitely not now, with his arms around me and his smiling lips on my cheek and the warm, vibrating glow of the alcohol and the purr of a contented connection.

"So," Spike muses after our glass dome reaches it's starting position again and we prepare to step out. He turns me around in his arms so he can see my face. "What's next on your agenda?"

An hour later and I'm wrapped in delirious pleasure, my head light and hazy as Spike moves luxuriously over me, inside me. His thrusts are long, slow and deep, and I can feel him getting close. Can feel myself getting close. Feel my inner muscles pulse and flutter around him as he drives sinuously into me and I arch my back and hips up off the bed, unconsciously baring my throat to him. Equally unconsciously, he leans down and nips at the offered flesh with blunt teeth. Grazes the faded scar of my claim mark.

I realize dimly it isn't exactly what I'd been craving, but it's enough. Enough to send a shuddering jolt through my body, every muscle tightening and releasing as lights flash behind my eyes and I turn my head to capture his lips in a desperate kiss, moaning release into his mouth.

I melt back into the mattress, running hands that feel like they're floating down from his back to his hips and digging my nails in. Encouraging his rhythm, riding out the small aftershocks of my orgasm and staring up into my vampire's darkened eyes as he builds toward his own.

When he groans and collapses against me, burying his head in the crook of my neck, I feel more than hear him whisper, "I love you."

I pull him tighter against me in response, the buzz from the alcohol at dinner still tingling pleasantly in my veins. Satisfied, exhausted, I allow my lashes to flutter shut. We lay like this for a while, still connected. Not asleep but kind of only half awake maybe. I love this part. All after glowy and warm, crazy amounts of endorphins, being connected in more than just the obvious way. In the most simple, physical way and through demon link. It's some of my favorite time to spend with him, and one of the only times when what we are seems to blend seamlessly into who we are.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask after a little while, opening my eyes again. Trailing light, lazy patterns across his bare back with my fingertips.

His response is softly muffled against my throat. "Always."

"Have you ever turned someone?" I ask, the question tumbling out without even a little bit of the tact I'd initially planned to ask it with. Probably has something to do with how insanely relaxed I feel.

Oops.

At least I hadn't come right out and asked if he'd ever thought about turning me.

Spike lifts his head from my neck as if my skin's just burned him, blinking down at me with surprised eyes. "What?"

"Have you ever sired someone?" I ask again, not bothering to adjust for tact now, considering I've already jumped that particular fence. I shift up onto my elbows and add, "Created another vampire. You know, bite, suck, blood of my blood...whatever."

Neither of us is relaxed anymore, and I'm already wondering if I should have just kept my mouth shut.

Spike frowns at me. "Right, yeah, got it. I...have," he answers slowly, pushing himself up onto his hands. His brows draw together. "You know I have."

My brow furrows to match his. "I do?"

The vampire nods, separating his body from mine and rolling over onto the mattress beside me. "That traitorous little friend of yours, back when I first came to Sunnydale. Can't remember the little weasel's name now, but—"

"Ford," I fill in for him, a cold, twisting sensation beginning in my gut as I sit up further, lean back against the pillows. I swallow hard, a chill raising goose bumps over my bare skin. "Yeah, I...forgot about Ford."

Because I had. Somehow in the course of the last three years, I'd completely forgotten about Ford. One of my oldest friends. I'd forgotten about all of it. About his plot to hand me over in exchange for immortality. About his death.

About who'd killed him.

"Oh, bollocks," Spike growls right on cue, tossing his head back into the headboard and closing his eyes. Then he shifts his gaze to mine and says, "I'm sorry, luv. I wasn't thinkin'—"

"No, it's fine." I meet his eyes and nod once, meaning it. "It was what he asked for. I'm the one that actually ended up putting him down for good, anyway." I pause to consider that, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth and biting down on it. My eyes find Spike's again. "I was surprised at the time that you kept your word to him."

My vampire sighs and leans his back into the pillows beside me, turning his eyes down to the black nailed hand he has pressed against his stomach. "Not really sure why I did it, if we're bein' honest. It's tricky business, siring another vamp. Things can go...wrong." He frowns then and looks back at me, his eyes searching mine seriously as he asks, "Why the sudden interest in siring, luv? Curiosity has to be comin' from someplace."

Yeah.

Coming from the place of having a dream or a nightmare or premonition or whatever the hell that had been I'd had that night, where you asked me if I wanted to be with you forever and then you made with the biting. The place I haven't really been able to stop thinking about since.

That place.

But I don't tell him that.

"It's just...Darla," I lie at the last second, shrugging. Hoping for casual. Not even consciously aware that I'm doing it until the rest of the lie is forming itself on the tip of my tongue and I'm saying that, too. "With her being Pietro's sire, and you and Angel and all the freaky bloodline stuff. I guess it got me thinking about whether or not you'd ever sired anyone." I wave a hand absently at him, searching for the right words. "If you have some…vamp childe running around out there somewhere involved in this whole thing that I should know about."

It's funny, it almost sounds convincing to me. Not bad for a last minute excuse.

"No, pet," Spike tells me, looking and feeling like he's torn between laughing out loud and groaning in relief, and maybe wanting to pull me into his arms. He doesn't do any of the above. Just gives me a small smirk and says, "There're no illegitimate baby Spike's runnin' 'round for you to be worried about. Our sect of the Aurelian line ends with me."

He says it so definitively, with such easy assurance, that if I had actually been worried about the possibility, I'm sure I'd feel a ton better.

But there's still something there in his eyes as he gazes at me that I can't quite place. And that doesn't do anything at all to settle the knot in my stomach.

Spike must see something in my eyes too, because his smile falls and he tilts his head to the side. Asks, "What else is goin' on in that head of yours?"

I stare at him, blink a few times and glance down at the empty stretch of mattress in between us. I guess I could lie again. It wouldn't be that hard. Put the conversation off for another week or so. It isn't like getting my answer now would do us any real good anyway. I could lie again.

But for whatever reason I don't, deciding on a version of my real question instead.

"Did you ever think about siring anyone else?" I ask him quietly, my eyes steady on his when I do. "Other than Ford, I mean."

His eyes flash but he responds immediately. Without a second thought or a single moment's hesitation, the bright azure of his gaze never really wavering from mine.

"No."

But I think he's lying.

And as we sit in the darkness of the hotel room and stare at each other, I have a feeling that we both know it.