A/N: Thank you to 1PocketElf for the review and thank you to everyone reading, favoriting, and following!

The moment you decided to let love in

-Goo Goo Dolls, "Let Love In"

Friday October 31, 1997

There were little green shoots poking up through the dirt. It was only potting soil in the bottom half of plastic milk jugs, with garlic bulbs pushed down into it, but they were growing. The makeshift planters were set on the ledge were the Barbie dolls had occasionally been. It'd been a couple of weeks since they'd been there, and I knew Dru had seen Angel during that time, so maybe she was dealing with her daddy issues.

Or maybe not. I smiled ruefully down and the overly pink old fashioned dress I was wearing. Drusilla had picked it out at the new costume shop in town, and had even gotten a great deal on it from the owner. I was certain she'd done it for Angel. There was even a long brown wig to go with it. So for Halloween I was going to be Dru, as Buffy, as Dru. It was a tad bit confusing, and also way up there on the creepy scale.

I also had a bad feeling about the weirdness that was supposed to happen tonight. I'd talked to Giles about it, but he couldn't find any prophecies or other mystical mumbo jumbo about what might be about to go down. And while he hadn't said as much, I kind of got the feeling he thought I'd just had a regular dream and was blowing it out of proportion. I bet he wouldn't be saying that tomorrow.

I wondered over to look in the mirror at the dress and to get my wig in place. It was a big ole mystery to me why Dru thought Angel would like this get up. I'd have much rather been Xena. I snickered at my reflection. Spike, for one, would certainly have appreciated all the leather. Probably not so much the pink I was currently in. I didn't know about the gown itself, since he always did dress Dru up in all those old fashioned outfits. If I asked, he'd probably just say something about it looking better crumpled up on the bedroom floor. The pig. I rolled my eyes for good measure, but I was still smiling at myself. It wasn't like I really minded all the innuendos, but if I didn't act all snooty about them, it wasn't half as much fun.

I picked at the lace on the sleeves. The dress didn't have any pockets, so I couldn't hide a note to Dru. We'd already known this, had written about it the day before, but not having a letter for her still felt wrong. I had written a short one in the main book.

Dru,

I hope your night was fantastic and that nothing gave you too much trouble.

-xoxo Buffy

It was just weird to not have more. I'd come to depend on chatting with her about our days. She was the only one that understood what it was like to be me, and I was the only one that really understood what she was going through. I was seriously hoping to find a cure for her that didn't require munching on the Slayer. Maybe after all this she'd stick to the animal blood, even when she wasn't switching with me anymore. I shied away from that thought as quickly as possible. If we weren't switching, then I wouldn't be-

"Where are you meeting Angel?" Willow called from the other room. Thank god, a distraction.

"Here." I called back. "After tick-or-treating. Mom's gonna be out."

I wondered what Dru had planned for him, I was guessing it wasn't a rousing games of checkers.

Shepherding a bunch of snotty kids around the neighborhood was proving to be a very effective form of birth control.

I don't know what Snyder had been thinking. I was pretty terrible at this. The sun was fast approaching the horizon as we walked from house to house. Well, I walked. The kids skipped, hopped, and ran. No matter how many times I told them not to. Another house or two and Drusilla could worry about the ankle biters.

I blinked away the dizzy, switching bodies feeling, and immediately looked for Spike. I was already dressed in a sheer black gown and was standing in our bedroom. He was working himself up to go after the Slayer. The determination that this night would be a victory was written all over him. I could see it in every move he made as he paced around the room. He was like a tiger in a cage, and I knew no amount of whining or begging would keep him from going out to hunt.

I stood by Lorenzo's cage, running one finger over the bird's jade colored feathers. Lorenzo was hopping from foot to foot on his perch and picking at the bars with his beak, as unsettled as I was. Taking one deep breath to try and calm myself, an unsuccessful effort, I resolved to ask only the single time.

"Spike," I waited for his head to swivel towards me. "Do you have to do this? It's Halloween, stay here tonight." I tried to make my eyes wide and imploring, and stuck out my lower lip out for good measure. He was across the room in a second, pinning me up against the wall with his body, his open palms smacking against the hard surface on either side of my head, boxing me in. The parrot squawked and beat his wings furiously inside his cage.

"Don't," Spike warned. Then his lips were on mine, hard and hungry. My knees gave way and I would have fallen if he hadn't been pressing me into the wall. I gasped as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it with blunt teeth.

"You'll miss your show." I managed to say, as he nibbled his way down my throat. The only response I got was a growl and a hard bite to the sensitive skin over my carotid artery. I felt it all the way down to the apex of thighs, and I cried out and tried to wiggle against him, only he had me pressed so tight against the wall that I couldn't move.

"Shhh, shhh," he cooed against my throat. "I'm going to make you well, baby. I'll bag the Slayer and then you'll be all better, and we'll have a grand time painting Sunnyhell red." He rocked himself against me, so I had no way to mistake his meaning. I found his lips again, and while my mouth plundered his, I dug my fingernails into silkiness of the red shirt covering his shoulders.

Then he was gone, and I had to brace my hands against the fall to keep from falling.

"Huh?" I squeaked. Spike had grabbed his duster and was settling it around himself. A knight donning his armor.

"Let's go, the boys are playing poker tonight and I thought you could join in. Try to relax, none of that soddin' book learning tonight. I'll be back before you know it, luv."

Turns out I'm a horrible poker player, but since we were betting spare change I'd only lost about fifty cents so far. Dalton was sitting to my right, and had had to teach me the rules before the first hand. I sighed, tossing my cards on the table.

"I fold." I'd given up on beginner's luck about four hands ago.

"Me too." Dalton said, neatly piling and setting down his cards. "Do you need a drink, Mistress?" He asked, ever solicitous to my needs.

"Mm, sure. Something cheap." It was going to be a long night, no reason to start out with the cheetah.

He stated to get up, and I went to follow him, but I'd barely straightened my legs when the pain hit. I clutched my head, trying to keep from screaming as Dalton guided me back to the chair.

White. Black. White. Black.

Pink.

The inside of a warehouse. I was there, no not me. Drusilla in my body. Spike had her bent backwards over a stack of something. The vision swam as I felt jealousy rip into me. I pushed it away. No time. His fangs were near her throat, but he was moving so slowly. There was sound like breaking glass, and suddenly Spike was left holding a wig as Drusilla knocked him back.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" She chirped. Then she was on her feet and fighting him, sending him to the ground. From somewhere she'd gotten a big piece of sharpened wood and was wielding it like a spear. She raised it, muscles taunt.

Blackness.

As reality returned I did scream. Loudly, and scrambled to my feet. Dalton reached for me but I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

She was going to dust him, as simple as a Slayer killing a vampire.

No, no, no, no! I had to get to him. My mind was white with panic. The demon burst forth, fueled by my pain and anger.

I hissed at the blind morons around me. They fell back, looking at one another, but not a one could stop me. I turned and ran, not questioning as to how I knew the direction he was in.

Once I was out in the black of night I slowed to a walk and pushed the demon back. The vision had to be a warning. I hadn't seen the end because it could still be changed. I'd make it in time. I had to. I wasn't ready for him not to be here.

Fog, on a Halloween night, weaving through the streets and leaving beads of moisture on everything it touched. What a cliché. My hair was damp and tangled from the heavy mist. The dark strands trailed down my back in thick strings, sticking to my neck and making me uncomfortable. My arms were clenched tight across my chest, but that was nerves, not a chill. I wanted to run, to rush, to yell and scream for him, but my body wouldn't let me. Frustrated tears flowed down my cheeks, soaking into the collar of my grey dress.

The tapping from the heels of my shoes echoed hollowly off the looming warehouses that surrounded me. Fear nipped at my heels, keeping me going despite the shaking of my legs. I didn't know what I'd actually do if I ran into Drusilla in my Slayer body. I couldn't fight her like this, but maybe I could throw myself between her and Spike, my presence enough to make her reconsider her actions. If I wasn't too late. I refused to believe he was already gone; my demon would know. I had to keep going.

One block further on I stumbled, my knees hitting the pavement hard. I planted my hands on the ground, trying to breathe through the pain like Giles had taught me. The little pants of air I was taking did nothing to help with the agony in my legs. Maybe it didn't work the same for vampires. Slowly I collapsed onto my side, drawing my legs up and wrapping my arms around them. I quit breathing, it was taking too much effort.

Oh god. I'd failed. I couldn't stop it. Drusilla would dust him because it's what was expected of the Slayer. I hated her as I lay there on the wet concrete, shaking with exhaustion, but I'd have my revenge. When dawn broke over the city, we'd switch, and then she'd burn. I giggled to myself, hysteria to hide the pain. I'd go back to regular old patrolling and Bronzing, like nothing had ever happened. A secret never to be shared.

Who'd ever said the whole thing about it being better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, was stupid.

Okay, so was I. Loving your enemy was a really dumb thing to do.

The tears were back, running sideways off my face to join the puddles on the sidewalk.

I couldn't even put my finger on the moment that anger, hate, annoyance, and fear had changed into something else. Had changed into 'just one more night.' One more night of being cared for. One more night of feeling cherished. One more night of not being alone. One more look. One more kiss. One more touch.

I wanted to scream at the universe that I got it now. It was too late, but I got it. Love wasn't big shows and grand moments. It wasn't Romeo and Juliet. It was the little everyday things that added up. It was being there and sharing the small things. A joke, a silence, a glance. It was sometime in all those seconds we'd spent together that I'd fallen in love without even realizing it. One day the clock had ticked, and with that movement I'd handed my heart over to Spike. I'd give anything now to tell him, even wearing this body as a mask. I wanted him to know how I felt, to know that I could give him the one thing he wanted most, unconditional love.

I heaved a huge sigh. Fat lot of good laying here and thinking grandiose thoughts was doing me. I tried to move again, but pain stabbed through my elbow when I put weight on it, and I ended up back on my side with a new bruise on my shoulder. I could really use a pint of otter right about now.

What would I do if some kind person found me here, if they bent over to see if I'm okay? The anything from a moment ago came back to haunt me. The life of a stranger sacrificed for the life of someone I loved. Shouldn't I be feeling a whole lot worse about that idea? It's like there was some part of me missing, that part that should be wigging out over the fact that killing an innocent person seemed fine if it meant that I got what I wanted. I could think that doing so was wrong, but in my gut I didn't feel that it was. Surely, I wouldn't be asked to test out if my head or my heart would win, fate wouldn't be that cruel. Would it? It's not like I didn't already know the answer.

A clanging from the alley behind me startled me out of my reverie. Instinctively I let my demon come forward. The swirling morass of emotions and thoughts fell away as my face shifted and my fangs descended. The night became less dark, and I could hear the heartbeat of the creature, the way it's blood swished through its veins and arteries. Salvation.

Slowly, I rolled onto all fours. The pain still screamed at me, but it was nothing compared to the siren call of the blood. Carefully, I stalked towards the brown metal dumpster in the alley. Like a cat after a mouse. Pick one paw up, hesitate, put it down, hesitate, shift weight forward, hesitate. No noise. No breathing. Keep the prey unaware that it only had so much time before it was found by death.

I had traversed the filthy pavement so cautiously that the animal was still ignorant of me even as I crouched right next to the stinking dumpster. Unconcerned it leapt down to the ground, inches in front of me. Like lightening I grabbed it, joy bursting in my chest at the culmination of my hunt. The ugly furry thing was a raccoon, I noted, as it twisted in my claws, trying to free itself. Its heart was pounding, fear radiating off it in delicious waves. I gave it a few seconds more, then buried my fangs into its neck.

The wet fur was gross, and the blood not nearly rich enough, even with the added flavor from the creature's terror. A few pulls of the tepid stuff and the raccoon was dead. I carelessly tossed the body back into the dumpster. It hadn't been anywhere near sufficient, but it would let me continue to move. To find Spike.

I stumbled out of the alley, and keeping one hand on the rough wall of the building next to me I started back in the direction my instincts pointed towards. I let my fangs stay. The world seemed much easier to understand with the demon helping me. I would find my love.

How long had it been? Ten minutes, twenty? I couldn't tell. The boost from my kill was already starting to fade, exhaustion seeping back in. I growled with frustration.

Then there he was, very much undusty. He wore his demon face as well, and was muttering to himself like he usually did when frustrated. His hands were in tight fists at his side, but his gait was normal and he appeared unhurt.

I took a step away from the wall, and my traitorous knees, that had been uncooperative for the entire night, gave way. He was so wrapped up in himself he didn't even see me. "Spike!" I called, sinking back to sit on my heels. His head whipped around.

"Drusilla!" He barked, and then I was being lifted by strong arms. Everything was okay.

"You're alive." I said, and the demon receded so that my tears of relief could flow.

"What are you doing out here, pet? God, you're soaked through, and filthy. What the bloody hell happened?" He shook me a little, distress warring with anger.

"I saw, I thought, I . . ." My hand went to his face, needing to feel the skin there. "I thought she was going to kill you. I didn't see the end."

He was carrying me along the empty street, heading towards home.

"So, you rushed out to do what exactly?" His tone was light, but I could feel the tension in his chest and arms.

"I don't know." I admitted in a small voice. "It was stupid, I know that, but all I could think was that something was going happen to you."

He stopped. We were in the middle of an intersection, traffic lights overhead blinking yellow briefly, then changing to red.

Those blue eyes were boring into me. "That didn't really answer my question, poodle," he said slowly. "If you knew something was going to happen to me, you should have been battening down the proverbial hatches, preparing for the inevitable power shifts." He paused, pursing his lips together. "So why did you leave the factory? Why come after me?"

Gently he shifted me, and let go of my legs so that my body slid down along his, until my feet touched the ground. He kept both arms around my shoulders to make sure I didn't fall, but his eyes never left mine.

"Why?" he asked again, in a voice that was a barely a whisper.

My mouth was dry; this was my anything moment. The traffic light changed to green and the color was caught in the puddles on the street, reflected of the mist in the air, and shimmered from every drop of dew clinging to the walls of the buildings like a thousand, thousand emeralds.

"Because I love you." I said.

Spikes lips parted, the look on his face softening to one of wonder. My breath hitched. Drusilla had never said it, maybe never felt it, and if she had, I thought stubbornly, it sure wasn't like what I felt now. His mouth crashed into mine and the world disappeared as my eyes slid closed.

I could have stood there kissing him until the end of time. His arms were pulling me so tight against him I thought my ribs might crack. After the initial rush his lips gentled, and our tongues danced slowly together. My hands were in his hair, disrupting its severe style and keeping his mouth firmly against mine.

When he turned his head to the side, I mewed in protest and he chuckled. "If you weren't about to fall over, kitten, the things I'd do to you." Heat flared in my belly. "God, I'm sorry Dru." Ugh, he'd have to say her name right now, wouldn't he? "I was so close tonight. So bloody close. If only-"

"Shhh," I admonished, bringing a finger to his lips. "I don't care about all that. Only that you're here with me, in one piece."

He kissed me lightly on the forehead, then swooped me up in his arms again to continue walking.

"I love you." He mumbled into my hair, and I smiled, content, for the moment, just to be.

I either fell asleep or more likely black out on the way back, because I woke up to Spike barking orders at the minions.

Dalton was there, looking frightened and stammering apologies.

"Shut up, you git," Spike snarled, and Dalton dropped to his knees, shaking. I squirmed, trying to get Spike's attention, to tell him Dalton was blameless. "Stop wriggling Dru, I'm not going to hurt the bugger." He looked down and the terrified vampire. "My girl's a tricky one, smarter than you at any rate. Next time you better not let me down. Now get out of my sight!" The last was a yell which had the submissive vamp stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get away.

"Now, pet, we get you fixed up and in bed."

He set me in a chair and headed to the fridge, pulling out several packs of blood and tossing them into the microwave. I closed my eyes and must have faded out again, because it seemed like only a second later that Spike was shaking my shoulder and helping me get a whole thermos full of blood to my lips. I drank it in huge gulps, barely tasting the blood in my rush to get the heady stuff down my throat.

"There's a good girl," Spike praised as I licked the last drops. "Time to get you cleaned up."

He picked me back up and carried me into the maze of hallways, kicking open a door after a couple of turns. He propped me up against the wall of what had once been some kind of bathroom. My eyes nearly fell out of my head when he started pulling off his clothes. When the jeans went I must have made a noise because he smirked at me over his shoulder.

"None of that, luv, you're nearly dust on your feet." His eyes narrowed. "Pull that lip in right now, it's not going to change my mind." I did as he asked, by biting it with my own teeth, which got me an eye roll. "Just you wait." He said, shaking his head.

No matter what he said, I'm pretty sure all the stretching and muscle flexing he did once he got his socks off was not entirely for his benefit. I checked myself for drool.

He turned to walk over and get the shower running, and I lost all powers of coherent thought.

Guh.

I just sat, twisting my hands into my skirt and watching. It sure seemed like the shower curtain needed a lot of straightening, and the shampoo bottles probably didn't need to be rearranged, or the towels placed just so. Not that I was complaining. I tried telling myself that I'd already felt most of what I was looking at, but it was a lot different seeing the whole, um, er- package, so to speak.

With the way I was staring, I was surprised there wasn't a giant, glowing neon sign over my head that said 'never seen a naked man before' with an arrow pointing down. After all, Drusilla would have been seeing him in his birthday suit for a century. I did have an inkling that it hadn't been much recently, maybe because of her injuries, or maybe because when you were with someone that long you just went through phases.

Not that I could ever imagine getting tired of watching him. Evidently, he'd run out of fake stuff to do, because he turned and walked towards me. I stared like an idiot. Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet. Weakness had crept up on me, and I would have ended up in a heap on the floor if Spike hadn't turned me around, one arm encircling my waist, and leaned me back again his chest.

We both looked down at my filthy gown.

"Right, no use saving it." He gripped the bodice with both hands and tore the front of the dress completely open, so that with one tug it was a pile on the floor and I was as naked as he was. My sense of humor had progressed to the exhausted giggles stage, and I couldn't help the mirth that bubbled up in my chest. I turned in his arms and the laughter started escaping, even as I tried to smother it against his shoulder. "I feel like you found that a great deal more entertaining than I did." Spike grumbled as he ran his hands over my shaking shoulders.

"Oh, it's been a long day, and, well you know what they call those cheesy romance novels at the supermarket?"

"Enlighten me," he deadpanned.

"Bodice rippers, and you just-" I had to pause and giggle some more. "You just ripped my bodice."

He snorted, then chuckled, then laughed right along with me. "I'm afraid I make a terrible dashing hero, pet."

"But you have the sexy scar," I said running my fingers over the mark on his left eyebrow.

He caught my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers, the look in his eyes intense. "You are far more beautiful than anything those writers can ever dream up," a smirk crept back onto his face. "Even when you look like a drowned rat."

"Hey," I smacked his chest with the back of my hand. "I'm a princess."

"That you are, one that needs a bath." Spike maneuvered me under the water, and even that much walking left every part of me as wobbly as jell-o.

I whimpered, but my vampire pulled me back against his chest again, and then carefully sat us both down, the water hitting out legs. It wasn't warm, but that didn't bother me. He had me sitting between his legs with one of my arms propped up on each of his knees. He used a washrag to scrub my back, arms and legs, then soapy hands to work over my stomach, and then breasts. We both groaned at the feeling, and he spent enough time to make sure each one was be very, very clean. I held my hand out and he dumped soap in it so I could do a quick clean between my legs, an action that was only mostly perfunctory.

Once my body was clean he gently pushed my chin down and started to work shampoo into my hair. Wow, and I'd thought the brushing felt good. Those long fingers kneading my scalp and working the suds through my hair put me over cloud nine, or on the rainbow, or- or- or something. I was back to guh.

By the time I was both shampooed and conditioned, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.

Spike stood up and wrapped a towel around his waist, then pulled me up and dried me off before using a second towel to bundle me up. He carried me back to our room, pulled the towel off, and ensconced me between the sheets. I was too tired to complain about being naked. His towel joined mine on the floor as he made his way back around the bed. He climbed in next to me, spooning up against my back. One arm wrapped around me and he intertwined his fingers with mine. His lips moved against my ear.

"Tell me again," he breathed.

"I love you."

The taste of strawberry exploded across my tongue. I was standing on my back porch, bowl of berries in my hand. It looked like Dru had been watching the sun rise. I headed back in, put the bowl on the counter, and went to find the notebook.

Dear Buffy,

I hope this note finds you well. Last night was most confusing for me. First, to find myself helpless again, trapped behind the persona of a girl who was much like what I once was, and then to be confronted with Spike while not in my own skin. I could have killed him, I had the chance, but I found myself unable to. I care for him, as he is my childe. I am not indifferent to all that he has done for me, I am not indifferent to him. It has hurt to watch him fall in love with you. It has hurt to watch Angel fall in love with you. I wish I had been made right. I am not even worthy of God's love.

By the way, please remember to pick up your Mom's dry cleaning this afternoon. And there's a Scooby meeting at 3pm.

-Drusilla

I sat down hard on the edge of my bed. She sounded so sad. A quick glance showed me that the planters were still in place, no dolls. I didn't really know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I hoped it meant she was figuring out some other kind of stress relief. I couldn't really do anything about most of the nukes she'd just dropped on me, not right at the moment anyway. So I let me mind zero in on what it wanted to.

She written it, in bold pink letters, Spike had fallen in love with me. I lay back on the bed, hugging the notebook to my chest, a big, goofy grin plastered on my face. Drusilla had said he loved me, not her, me.

It was going to be a good day.