"We could have stayed and got some work done," Rose protested. "It's still early in the afternoon."

"Babe, you look like nine miles of bad road right now," Spike remarked. "You've been ill, you haven't been getting your sleep, and besides, we need to talk."

Rose had been more than half expecting this, and dreading it. But she did feel badly about keeping things from him. She figured that she owed him whatever explanations he wanted. "About my dreams?" she asked. "Or the fact that I didn't tell you about them?"

Spike opened the door to their apartment and herded her inside. Once there, Rose suddenly found herself pinned against the wall. It wasn't that he was actually restraining her, he just stood in front of her, hands on the wall on either side of her. "Don't you trust me?" he demanded.

"With everything I am," she answered. "It's just that.., well, you were hers first."

"And I'm yours last and always," Spike said quietly. "I love you, Rose, and I've been doing and saying everything I can think of to prove that to you. Am I missing something?"

"It's not you," Rose mumbled. "It's me. I've disappointed you so many times. And sometimes I just wonder if maybe the next time is going to be one too many. Because I'm not.., not a real person."

"What put a silly idea like that in your head?" he inquired gently. "Have I ever done anything to make you believe that I didn't consider you to be real?" His hands came off the wall, and his arms went around her. He could seldom stand being this close to her without holding her. "You certainly feel real."

"You make me feel alive." She reciprocated his gesture and laid her head on his shoulder. "It's just, you all have lives, pasts, and I've only been here a few months. Sometimes I feel like I don't really belong here. Like maybe I'm taking something that someone else would have if it weren't for me."

"Sometimes you talk crazier than Dru ever did," Spike replied. "If the rest of The Powers didn't think you belonged here, with me, do you think they would have let us be together?"

"Have I been thinking too much, or not enough?" Rose asked. "My brain's all jumbled. And I don't know if it's the dreams, the long hours, or the weird stuff I've been translating."

"I'm not going to be hearing any more nonsense from you, am I?" Spike queried. He wanted to make sure that she had it all out of her system. He always did have to fall for the daft ones, didn't he just?

"I can't make any promises," she murmured. "Because sometimes things just come out of my mouth without warning. But I won't doubt you, Spike, not ever."

&&&&&&&&

Wesley knocked on Angel's door well after midnight. The door opened quickly enough that the researcher suspected his employer had been pacing the floor waiting for him.

"I got a message that you wanted to see me as soon as I got done with the conference." Wesley yawned. "I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee."

Angel jerked his head towards the kitchen. The coffee maker was just giving one last gurgle as the cycle finished. "I hope you want it black," Angel spoke at last. "How did the conference go?"

"Black is fine," Wes assured him. "As for the conference, do you have a Q'xlzr demon informant working there?"

Angel nearly dropped the coffee. Wesley prudently took from his hands before gravity could finish what surprise had started.

"How did you find out about the Q'xlzr?" Angel demanded. "Did it hire a brass band?"

"It was relatively circumspect," the Watcher allowed. "It only identified itself to me after it had ascertained that I was a friend of Rose's. It likes her."

Angel gave a brief laugh. "She even makes friends with a Q'xlzr. I'm not sure even I could go that far."

"How is Rose?" Wesley asked. "Is she all right?"

"Hopefully." The vampire poured himself some coffee too. "The psychic couldn't find out who is responsible for those nightmares that Rose has been having. We definitely know that an outside influence is at work, though. And Stasia did set us on a path that should stop the dreams." He paused, took a sip of the scalding liquid and swore as it burned his mouth. "Damn. From what I heard, last night's dream was worse for Spike than Rose."

"Really?" Wesley leaned against a countertop. "How so?"

"Rose only half woke up from it," Angel explained. "She didn't recognize Spike, acted afraid of him, even got violent. I think it tore Spike apart, having Rose afraid of him."

Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring up an image. "I'd hate seeing Rose afraid of me," he said slowly. "I can't begin to imagine what it must have been like for Spike."

"Back to the conference," Angel directed. "I wasn't too unhappy about substituting you for Rose for a day, even though what you were doing is a lot more important. I want to know if you think those negotiations are on the up and up."

Wes sipped at his coffee, trying to frame his response. "It was odd. I'd like to have Gunn take a look at some of my notes," he said. "Because, while I don't know much about business and trade negotiations, I'd be willing to swear that a large portion of the proceedings is arrant nonsense."

"Go home, get some sleep," Angel advised. "Rose should be in tomorrow. If you can, get with her before she leaves and compare notes. Something about Aubrey Morrison and his trade negotiations hasn't been ringing true for me from the first."

"Right from the first?" Wes asked, setting his half-empty coffee cup down. "Or just since you heard that Aubrey Morrison was making advances to Rose?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Go get some sleep, Wes," he repeated, and walked the Watcher to the door.

&&&&&&&

Spike lay in the darkness, Rose cuddled close to him, his arms wrapped around her. He wasn't all that tired, a vampire didn't need as much sleep as a human did. And, he wanted to make sure that the spell had worked, that the nightmares were truly gone. He got a knot in the pit of his stomach just thinking about the previous night. He'd died a thousand times seeing that look of abject terror on Rose's face and the only thing in her line of vision had been him. She stirred in her sleep, and his musings stopped, and he came instantly alert. But it was only the normal shifting of position that anyone asleep might make. A glance at the time told him that it was half past three. To the best of his recollection, the dreams had all taken place earlier than this. He allowed his eyelids to droop shut, but kept her locked in his embrace. If something went wrong, he'd be right there, ready to chase away devils and demons, but how could he protect her from the past? Especially when it was his past?

&&&&&&&&&&

"I cannot do it," the witch informed her client. "There is a powerful spell protecting her now. Even with your help, it is impossible."

"Damn," growled Aubrey, and the demon in his head howled in frustration.

&&&&&&&

"See, right here." Wesley pointed to a line in his notes. "What is the phrase 'all power and dominion' doing in a trade agreement?"

"Okay, I'm gonna have to agree with you that it sounds strange," Gunn replied. "Especially since there isn't a question of power or dominion involved in this. Do you have any of the stuff Rose has been doing? After all, she spent three days at it to your one."

Wesley shook his head. "Evidently Aubrey Morrison collected them from her at week's end. But we will be able to get the rest of the conference."

"Magic?" Gunn asked. "Or good, old-fashioned cloak and dagger?"

"Magic, this time," the Watcher replied. "A spell that was cast on Rose so that whatever she writes at the conference is also written here."

A look of consternation crossed Gunn's features. "Hey, Wes, I know you're the expert on all the hoodoo voodoo, but couldn't it get a little dangerous, casting more than one spell at a time on someone? Because I'm thinking that if something happens to Rose, you won't be able to dig a hole deep enough to hide in."

"All checked and double-checked," Wes assured him. "But, erring on the side of caution, Rose is being very carefully monitored. If it looks like there's the slightest complication, I have the keyword to remove the overlapping spell."

Gunn nodded. "I'm convinced," he said. "When you said Rose's notes were being duplicated here, which here did you mean?"

"Rose's office." Wesley beckoned the lawyer to follow him. "I thought it best since it's unoccupied until Rose finishes with the conference.

"Makes sense," Gunn conceded. He watched as Wesley fished out a key. "Security first, though, huh?"

"It could get.., awkward," Wes muttered. "And I don't want anyone who doesn't know what is involved disturbing it." He opened the door.

Two stacks of paper sat on the desk. The smaller of the two was covered with neat, precise handwriting, Rose's, to be precise. The other stack, save for the top sheet, was blank. A pen, moving as though held by a ghostly hand glided across the top sheet, replicating Rose's notes and handwriting in five demon languages, plus English.

"I realize that Rose isn't particularly well-versed in business practices," Wesley remarked. "Almost completely innocent of them, in fact. But I did ask her to make a special effort to jot down anything at all that didn't sound quite right to her."

"Looks like all the bases are covered," Gunn admitted. "Do you really think there's some kind of hanky-panky going on here? Or could it just be that the big man has a bee in his bonnet because the guys are starting to check out daddy's little girl?"

"Well, there is the matter of Lorne's prognostication," Wes pointed out. "But Angel is very protective of Rose, isn't he?"

"Or maybe it's just Rose," the lawyer suggested. "I don't even know her as well as you do, but I think I'd walk into the fire for her is the situation called for it."

"Now that you mention it, I feel the same way," Wes remarked. "And everyone knows that Lorne would go to the ends of the earth for her."

"Maybe it's a special gift from her friends in high places," Gunn suggested.

"Possibly," the Watcher conceded. "Then again, as you said, maybe it's just Rose."

&&&&&&&

The lunch break had arrived, and Rose had left Aubrey's side to use the ladies room, such as it was. Since the place had been designed for demons, special accommodations had had to be made for the humans. And by human standards, they were a bit primitive. Rose availed herself of the facilities as little as possible.

"I glad seeing Rose back," a voice murmured just behind her. Rose turned to see the Q'xlzr. "Rose okay?"

"I'm just fine," she assured it. "How are things going?"

"Same old, same old," the Q'xlzr replied, its ears flattening out to the sides. "All talk-talk, say nothing. And I not get info for..," Its eyes darted around, they weren't very private at the moment. "For employer," it finished.

"You don't suppose your employer is on the wrong track?" Rose suggested lightly. An onlooker would never have guessed she was discussing anything more innocuous than the balmy California weather.

The demon shook its head. "Always send I to right place before," it muttered. "I don't think he wrong this time." It scanned the room again. "Negotiator looking for Rose. Better go before he start asking Rose about I."

&&&&&&

Aubrey was indeed looking her way, so Rose reluctantly left her friend for his slightly less congenial company. As had become his habit, he had brought along a lavishly stocked picnic basket. If Rose didn't know better, and given Aubrey's track record, maybe she didn't, she might have thought he was trying to impress her. It wasn't working, if that was the point. True, she now felt a bit more at ease in his company, now that he was no longer overtly making advances, but friendship was the best he could hope for. Her affections were firmly fixed on Spike.

Aubrey, playing the host was setting up their meal on the table. It was not only ridiculously elaborate, but even included china, real glasses and silverware for the service. Rose privately thought that it was more trouble than it was probably worth, but it did save her the trouble of having to supply her own repast, so she kept quiet.

"Ah, there you are, Rose," Aubrey observed. He decided not to question her on the fact that she seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time talking to that ubiquitous little Q'xlzr demon. "Coffee or a soft drink?" He had both a thermos and a bottle of her favorite soda.

"I think I'm in the mood for something cold right now," she replied. "I'm kind of thirsty. The air's very dry in here, isn't it?"

"The demons like it that way," Aubrey informed her, filling a glass. He even had ice for her drink. "It's climate controlled in here."

"I'm glad that I'm not the one that has to do the talking," Rose admitted, accepting the glass and taking a drink. "My throat would be so dry I'd lose my voice by the end of the day."

"We couldn't have that now, could we?" Aubrey remarked. "It would be a shame to make your lovely voice all raspy." He began dishing a salad onto her plate. "Do you want anything more substantial than this? Or do you just eat like a bird to maintain your girlish figure?"

Rose tasted the salad before answering. Raw spinach with English walnuts and raisins with a dash of a light vinaigrette dressing. "This is lovely," she said. "And no, I don't really want anything else, thank you, Aubrey. I just think that eating is such a waste of time. I wouldn't do it at all if I didn't have to."

Aubrey gave her a quizzical look before starting in on his own meal. He had three courses, he always did. But to date, Rose had never availed herself of all the possibilities. Still she accepted food and drink from him. That could come in handy at a later date. Even when she hadn't felt all the comfortable around him, she had never once questioned the safety of the sustenance that he provided.

Unbeknownst to Rose, a large, black, hairy spider was making its way across the table. In the manner of such creatures, it trailed back and forth across the end of the table until it fixed whatever attention it had on her. Suddenly, it stopped its aimless weavings and headed right for her.

Rose had paused in her eating to take another drink when the spider made its presence known. Rose let out a yelp, the glass made a disastrous descent to the floor, depositing its contents all over her on the way down. Not that Rose was in a mood to notice. Her eyes were glued in horrified fascination to the fuzzy black horror in front of her. She sat there, paralyzed from fear, face white with a tear trickling down her cheek.

Aubrey was startled at the display, and amazed that the generally unflappable Rose quailed at the sight of a harmless arachnid. Still, it was an opportunity, and he would do well to make the best of it. He summoned the demon who had been assigned to wait on him. "Get rid of that," he ordered, indicating the spider. He turned back to Rose. "It's all right, Rose," he soothed. "It's gone now." Her eyes were still wide as saucers. He stood and pulled her up out of her chair and into his arms, taking care to keep the contact light and friendly. He could feel her heart pounding like a trip hammer.

Rose slowly got it back together, and realized where she was. "I'm sorry, Aubrey," she mumbled, flushing. She pulled away from him, and he released her without argument. "I don't know why I'm so scared of those things, but I am."

"It's all right," he replied. "Makes you a little more human. For a while there, I was starting to think that you were too good to be true."

Rose felt a panicked shock at his words. Did he suspect that she had ever been anything but human? A quick glance at his face reassured her for the moment. He must just have been teasing, she decided. It was then that she finally realized that her skirt was saturated with sticky soda. "Oh no," she muttered. A more thorough inspection showed that her drink had splashed up onto her top as well. In short, she was a mess. "What am I going to do? I didn't think to bring a change of clothes with me. I never anticipated needing one."

Aubrey looked at his watch. The time provided for the break was generous, and they had time in plenty. He took her arm and started guiding her to the nearest exit. "We have time for a quick shopping trip," he remarked. "You won't have time to be too particular, but we should be able to find a suitable replacement in the available time."

&&&&&&&&

Spike opened the door to admit his lady-love, and the first thing he noticed was that not only was she carrying her new briefcase, but a plastic bag bearing the name of a clothing store as well. Then, he did a double-take at what she was wearing.

"Is it just me, or did you have on a different outfit when you left this morning?" he asked.

"I spilled soda all over myself and had to get something else to wear," she replied. She was having difficulty meeting his eyes. He wondered what that was all about.

"You're not usually that clumsy, luv," he remarked, pulling her into his arms to give her a proper welcome home. When he finally let her up for air, he added, "Are you going to tell me what happened?'

Rose buried her face in his shoulder. "It's so.., stupid," she muttered. "Why am I so terrified of such harmless little creatures?" She realized that the remark explained nothing. "There was a spider on the table at lunch time, and I spilled my drink all over myself."

Spike grinned over the top of her head. He didn't like her being scared, true, but it still was rather amusing that she could practically face down Old Nick himself and near faint at the sight of a spider. "That explains why you got the new togs," he remarked. "But not how. I happen to know that you forgot your purse this morning. Again." Human she may be, but not having the habit of years to fall back on, little details often escaped her. Spike reminded her when it came to his attention, but he hadn't lived with a human woman before, so he missed things too.

"Aubrey insisted on buying it for me," she explained. "I said that I'd pay him back, but he told me not to bother." Her forehead wrinkled in thought. "I probably ought to insist though, oughtn't I?"

"You're damn right," Spike growled. He saw the look on her face and backed down. "I'm not upset with you, pet. But that ponce bloody well ought to know better than to buy clothes for someone else's girl as a gift."

"Is this one of those unwritten rules you were telling me about?" Rose asked. "About the difference between nice girls and the ones who aren't nice?"

"Most definitely," he replied. His nose twitched. "You still smell like soda pop, babe, all sweet and syrupy." He got a wicked grin. "We'll have to get that stuff off you."

Rose saw the look in his eyes, and it was one she was familiar with. "You weren't suggesting that I take a shower, were you?"

Spike slipped his hands under her backside and lifted her off the floor. "I like sweet things," he murmured in her ear.