"Spike?" Dawn said from the stairs. The vampire looked up from lighting his cigarette.

"Your sister send you to check on me?" he drawled, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he pulled up his knees and leaned back on the cot.

"No," Dawn said, hovering in the middle of the steps. "I thought you'd want to know what we found out about Jocelyn."

"Jocelyn who?" Spike said with his cigarette between his teeth. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Spike," she said, walking the rest of the way down the stairs. "I know that your Jocelyn is the bounty hunter Buffy hired." She stood in front of Spike, figeting under his gaze. He took the cigarette from his mouth.

"Why do you think I have a Jocelyn?" he asked, resting his hand on his right knee.

"Come on, Spike," she said, beginning to pace in front of him. "The bounty hunter's name is Jocelyn. You know her. You recognized her. You-"

"Bit," Spike began, but Dawn ignored him.

"-have a history together," she continued, growing more animated. "You told me in your crypt. I remember." She stopped in front of him. "She told Buffy that she would be back because of the bounty, but I know she's really coming back because of you. She's completely-"

"DAWN!" Spike said loudly.

"-in love with you," she finished breathlessly. Spike studied the girl standing in front of him.

"I think you're a hopeless romantic," he said finally, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Don't treat me like I'm a child!" she said angrily, stamping her foot. The vampire raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm right," she said sullenly, crossing her arms and looking at the floor. Spike sighed and leaned his head against the wall.

"She's not in love with me," he told the ceiling. "She hates me."

"It's just 'cause its been such a long time," Dawn said, leaning in excitedly. "You have to fight for her! I mean you guys were what, engaged? Married? Or did you call 'betrothed'-"

"Like I said," Spike said, interrupting her. "Hopeless romantic. 'S not your fault, most teenage girls are."

"Not the potentials," Dawn said, plopping down beside him. "All they ever think is 'vampire this, demon that.'"

"That's kind of their calling, Bit," he said, looking sympathetically at her. It didn't cheer up. Spike sighed.

"Tell me what you found about Jocelyn," he asked. Dawn brightened.

"Giles and Anya think she's a Phoenix," she said eagerly. "Is that why the-"

"You know I think I am tired," Spike cut in quickly. "Training slayers and all. Takes a toll on a person's health."

"Alright," Dawn said dubiously, getting up and walking to the stairs. "But if you ever-"

"Good night, Dawn," Spike said pointedly. The girl finally took the hint and hopped up the stairs. Spike straightened his legs and took another hit off his cigarette. Why did the girl have to be so damn perceptive? The complete opposite of her sister.

A Phoenix, hmm? That would certainly explain some things. If he was remembering correctly. He'd always had a flunky to do the tedious work.

Unbidden an image of Jocelyn as he'd seen her last, cold and silent in her coffin, came to him. He tried to block out the next image- of her clawing her way out of her coffin, staining her silks with dirt and blood. Spike shuddered.

"Bad memory?" The familiar voice jolted him out his self-created nightmare.

"Jocelyn." She was standing on the stairs, keeping the railing between them.

"I came to settle up the bounty with Buffy," she said, hands in her pockets. "Then I'll be gone."

"That's it?" Spike said, bounding to his feet. His cigarette clattered soundlessly to the floor, forgotten. "You're just leaving?" She shrugged.

"What do I have to stay for?" He swallowed his pride to force out the next words.

"Me," he told her. "Us." She laughed ruefully.

"There is no us, Spike," she said cruelly. "You made sure of that." She turned and walked up the stairs.

"Hang on," he said, going after her. "You don't get to waltz in here after a hundred years and walk back out like we had nothing- Jocelyn!" He reached the top of the stairs and, not even noticing the closed door, pushed it clean off its hinges. Ignoring the cries from the other areas of the house, he single-mindedly tore through the house, catching up to her in the empty living room.

"Damn it, Jocelyn, STOP!" She turned abruptly in the center of the room, spinning angrily to face him.

"Why, William?" she spat. Before he could cross the carpet and take hold of her Buffy came running into the room, Zander, Willow, and Anya hot on her heels.

"Spike, what's going on?" she demanded urgently, taking in the bounty hunter's aggressive stance. He barely noticed Dawn push her way to the front of the group, a protesting Giles right behind her.

"Not now Buffy." The Slayer took a step back at the savage tone of his voice. She glanced back and forth between the two, not sure if she should intervene if they went for each other's throats. "This is between me and her. We're having it out right here, right now." Jocelyn rolled her eyes.

"That's right, Spike," she mocked. "Take control. Be a man."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice deathly calm.

"My soul is wrapped in harsh repose," she quoted dramatically, "Midnight descends in raven colored clothes." She looked on triumphantly as he struggled to hold on to his rage. "You are pathetic. Before you met me, you were nothing." She laughed at the crushed look on his face. "You were just a spineless, second-rate-" Out of nowhere a ball of fire appeared and careened into the bounty hunter's head.

It sailed through it and crashed into the boarded up windows, where it left a neat, round hole. Zander groaned audibly.

"Alright, now I feel better." Spike looked from one Jocelyn to other, his expression a contorted mess of emotion.

"Well that was unexpected," said Anya, master of the understatement.

"Well this does throws a wrench in my evil plan," the First said irritably. "But while we're on the subject of failure-" a second Buffy was suddenly standing in front of Spike –"here's someone else you failed to save." The First turned to face the real Jocelyn, now a tall, dark-haired man with a neat goatee. Spike snarled, showing his fangs.

"How did you ever not see how much he wanted you?" Now the goatee vanished, and he was strawberry blonde. "How could you not see that he was using you?" Satisfied at the stricken expression on her usually impassive face, the First disappeared in a blink of light. No one said anything. Until,

"So who here hasn't been dead?" Rona asked from the back.

"Me," Anya said distractedly, staring, like everyone else, at the shocked pair in the living room. "Now ssh! I wanna watch!"

Jocelyn looked at Spike. Spike looked at Jocelyn.

He crossed the space between them in a single stride. The movement startled their audience, who jumped. He gripped both of her arms in his hands. She was hot. She was real.

"Come," he ordered, dragging her by one arm to the front door.

"Where are you going?" Buffy asked, finding her voice.

"Out." They watched as he dragged the un-protesting Jocelyn out the front door and into the night.