Buffy listened apprehensively as Illyria continued speaking, as everyone else began to crowd around her.

"Maximus has thrived off borrowed power since the days I roamed free on this earth in my demon form. He feeds off it. However, once he acquires enough of it, he will have the ability to destroy everything in his path. He takes his energy by choosing powerful victims and placing them in a trance. Your Slayers, whom the red-headed one with the odd diction has described . . . " -Willow raised her eyebrows awkwardly- " . . . are a prime example of what Maximus does to humans. Of course, Slayers would be his ideal choice because they are easy to capture, but are extremely powerful. I have previously witnessed what he is capable of doing when he gathers enough energy. Alone, he is a powerful warlock. But the more power he gains, the more difficult it is to fight against him."

"So, why didn't he try to take my power?" Buffy asked.

"He is vindictive. Maximus chooses who he wants to drain, and who he wants to confront personally. You are a leader of an army. He wants a challenge."

"Oh. He's one of those guys," Xander quipped.

Illyria shot a look at him and Xander bit his lip nervously. "I am not finished. Your attempts to jest at this time would be futile, for this matter concerns the lives of everyone in this vicinity, and they appear to be well aware of it."

"Whoa," Dawn muttered under her breath.

Spike sniffed, leaning over to whisper to her, "That just means she likes him."

"He will try to take you down, piece by piece, by taking away the power of those you lean on most," Illyria finished, "In my day, he destroyed the minions of many Old Ones, including mine, this way."

"So . . . he wants a fight. But he's taking away all my sources," Buffy concluded bitterly, "He's setting us up to lose before we even begin."

"So," said the man called Charles Gunn, "How do we kill this guy?"

"Easy, now, Charlie, boy," Spike muttered, "No need to get yourself killed. Again."

"You must find his whereabouts, "Illyria said, "And you must destroy his army, and his power source."

"Power source?" Giles asked, "I thought the Slayers were his power source."

"That is correct. But he stores the power in a specific spot for easy accessibility; it is portable and goes with Maximus everywhere. It is almost impossible to pinpoint its location, but if one does, the stolen energy will be returned to the Slayers."

"How would we even begin to know where it is?" Buffy asked.

"It is always some kind of inanimate object."

"So you're saying it could be anything from a giant chalice to a wooden spoon?" Andrew asked.

"Yes, annoying one."

"Great. That narrows it down." Buffy sank into the couch, closing her eyes. "Okay. So we find him, fight his army, find his power source. But I don't want this to be a waste of time. Are you sure this is Maxipad's work?"

"Maximus," Illyria corrected as Dawn let out a snort in spite of herself. "And I am almost positive."

Willow spoke up: "The one thing the cursed Slayers have in common is that they're all creepily and perpetually staring out a window. That's how Maximus gets his trance going."

"Window . . . " Buffy muttered. "That sounds familiar."

Suddenly, her eyes widened in recognition, and she whirled around to face Spike, who was leaning against the doorframe. "Spike!"

Spike looked up. "What? I only zoned out for a second, I swear."

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes. "Focus. Remember I came upstairs to see you before you got all human'd up?"

Spike nodded. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"You were staring out the window. It was creepy."

Willow nodded slowly, her eyes brightening with understanding. "Creepy, 'I'm-in-a-trance' kind of staring!"

Spike raised his eyebrows. So, Maximus was definitely the one messing with him and the Slayers? He took a deep breath. Bloody hell...

"The Old One has pinpointed us," said Maximus, his voice cracking weakly.

"Sir," said a Kraa demon, "We must gather you more power. You are losing strength."

"In time, in time," replied Maximus with a wave of his hand, "My only concern is that there is a powerful witch among them. She may be able to track us. We went on the move to the cluster of Slayers in Los Angeles, but it only brought us closer to being tracked with Illyria's knowledge of my power."

"What shall we do, sir?"

"We shall wait. They are gathering forces together. And so are we."

Spike leaned over the kitchen faucet, watching the clear water flow into the glass in his outstretched hand. Fascinating. Who knew a few days ago that he'd need a fix of H2O on a daily basis as opposed to refrigerated pig's blood?

It was late; everyone else was asleep. Spike found he was a bit too energized to do so. He figured he was experiencing a classic human sugar high. Oh, well. Those chocolate-covered cashews had been bloody good. He turned off the faucet, about to head back upstairs, when-

"Hey."

He jumped at the voice behind him, and faced the woman who matched it, trying not to look so startled. Nonetheless, Buffy smirked. "Scared ya, huh? Missing your sensitive hearing?"

"Nah, I heard you," he lied, leaning against the counter casually. He took a sip of his water. "So. What are you doing down here? It's past 2 AM."

"Was gonna check on the girls one more time. Heard some rummaging. Thought maybe we had yet another visitor," she replied with a sigh, "This place is turning into Hotel Buffy. We're known for our complimentary breakfasts."

He smiled a little. "Any changes so far? In the Slayers?"

Buffy shook her head. "None. They just . . . stare. It's sad. And scary as hell."

"Wish I could remember more about what happened when that ponce pulled the magicks on me," Spike replied, "Been trying. Just remember lookin' at the mini Slayer lot training and then . . . pain."

"It's okay," Buffy said, "We'll figure it out."

"I could tell you were worried. About this Maximus pissant," Spike said, "And who knew Illyria had all that info stored in that brain of hers? Hell. Would've been nice if she spoke up sooner."

"Angel said this whole thing only started to affect the Slayers in LA a few days ago," Buffy replied, sitting with an oomph at the kitchen table, "I don't think she made the connection until it was happening right in front of her. Makes sense."

"Blue's pretty attentive, though. Surprised it took her so long," was Spike's reply.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You have a nickname for her, too?"

"Yeah. She hates it," Spike said, smirking playfully.

"Well, it's fitting," Buffy said with a shrug, "if you take in consideration, y'know, her . . . blueness." She stood up once more.

They were silent for a moment, until Spike decided to be the one to make the first move. He recalled that once, a while back, he'd told Buffy that "all they ever did was dance". Even years later, the phrase applied. Granted, it had a bit of a different connotation, now, but still: they were always dancing around the actual issues when it came to their relationship.
Simply put, Spike didn't want to dance anymore.

He reached out and touched her hand, and then wrapped the other arm around her waist. He whispered her name, leaning forward just so that his lips brushed against her forehead lightly.

She closed her eyes, and he took this as a good sign. As long as she wasn't pushing him away or giving him a good punch in the nose, Spike read essentially any other response as a good sign.

She looked up at him, finally, and her eyes were glossy. "I've never felt this close to you before," she said softly, "Even when we . . . when we were okay, back then, before Sunnydale was destroyed, I think I was afraid."

"Me too," Spike said, and of course it was the truth, however cheesie it sounded. "We shouldn't have to be, Slayer. Not anymore. I soddin' missed you . . . " He ran his fingers up and down her back, and felt her shudder. He figured he might as well be open with her, now.

"You're warm," she replied, "It's so weird."

Leave it to Buffy to ruin the moment. He rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

She giggled, and for a while they stood in comfortable quiet, her head against his chest.

Then, she said: "Spike . . . Do you think, maybe . . . you and I . . . "

He kissed her before she could say anything more.