Author's Notes: Thank you for all the reviews!

I've been rereading Eurydice's stories lately... ah, how I wish I could write that well.

I don't really dislike any character (except for Kennedy), so I try to write them as they were presented on the show - human, but with human weaknesses. That means you won't be seeing any blatant Riley-bashing. I'm just mentioning it because I've picked up the idea that some readers might be a little more... biased... than I am about the poor guy. :)

Spike whistled cheerfully as he strode through the cemetery. He was back in Sunnydale, the home of the Slayer. His wife. Whom he was hoping to run into out on patrol. It'd be fun to dance a little with her, fight for a bit. Like old times. Spike sighed nostalgically, and brightened. Maybe a good rough and tumble would lead to a good… rough and tumble.

Sure, she'd told him off, said she wasn't his girl. It hadn't been pretty, the way they'd parted. But she'd spared his un-life, not staked him when she could have. When she probably should have, considering the way he'd treated her, although in all fairness he hadn't intended it to come off the way it had.

It wasn't so much that he minded an unwilling woman – just the thought of one struggling beneath him, heart thundering in fear, set his dick to twitching. No, what he minded was an unwilling Buffy. What he minded was Buffy looking at him the way she had after. As if he was nothing more than a monster.

She must have understood, though, must have realized he hadn't intended to force himself on her. Instead of a dusty ending, she'd sent him a letter to apologize for having doubted him. For having been such a bitch.

Spike had high hopes for a happy reunion.

Especially since he'd kept his nose clean for weeks now. Practiced, just like she'd asked him to. He paused to lean up against the wall of a crypt while he lit a smoke. He inhaled deeply, watching a Fyarl demon wrapped in a blanket lumber by. Thing looked like it needed to be put out of its misery.

"Well. What do I spy with my little eye? A demon. That would be… oh, right. One of the things the Slayer wouldn't mind if I killed".

The demon paused and looked at him. "Spike," it said, and not in the usual growly way of a Fyarl. "You're back in town. Wonderful. The perfect end to a perfect day".

Spike frowned. This was not your average Fyarl. In fact, he could have sworn… "Watcher?"

The Fyarl raised its fists. "Go on, then. Let's get on with the fighting – You understand me?" he said, surprised.

"Of course I understand you".

"I'm speaking English?" the Fyarl, whom Spike was now positive was the Watcher, asked hopefully. Git.

"No, you're speaking Fyarl. I happen to speak Fyarl. Know it's been a few years since I've seen you, mate, but don't recollect you being a demon before".

"Yes, well, I seem to be having a bit of a bad day".

Spike took a deep drag off his cigarette, tossed it away. "What, you just come over all demon-y this morning?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Chap by the name of Ethan Rayne – oh piffle, why am I having a conversation with you? Why are you here?"

"Come to see the Slayer. Thought she might miss me". As the Watcher made to retort, Spike cut him off. "Look, you need help or what?" he offered. He wasn't sure he wanted to help Giles, in fact he was rather considering killing him. Bloke clearly wasn't in Spike's camp, and it would be easier to win Buffy over without him around. He had the perfect excuse too – after all, Slayer couldn't fault a fella for killing a Fyarl, could she?

He thought he might win more points with her this way, though. Save the Watcher, earn a little trust all around. Seemed like a good idea.

As amusing as watching a Fyarl's face thinking things through was, Spike was getting impatient with waiting for Giles to make a decision.

"Right, I'll just nip off and find the Slayer then".

"Wait. Help me find Ethan Rayne. He needs to undo this and then he needs – a good being killed," the Watcher finished in a growl. Now that seemed more like it.

"Right. What's first?"

Giles suggested they go to the bar where he and the other bloke had hung out the night before, see if they could get the waitress to cough up the phone number the tosser had given her.

Spike wanted to get his car, but the demon beside him insisted on taking his little tin can. Whatever. Probably better to keep a creature with mucous like that out of his DeSoto anyhow. Watcher's car drove like shit, though, and Spike felt like a right prat driving the thing. He hoped no one he knew saw him. Wouldn't do much for his rep. Having the Watcher yell at him in Fyarl about how to shift the damn thing didn't help his mood either. Spike'd been driving before the old sod was even a twinkle in his bastard father's eye. He knew how to shift. It wasn't his fault the car was utter crap.

"Calm down, will you?" he snarled as the Watcher growled angrily at him to down shift.

"I'm not sure I can. Feel like I'm changing... I really like this feeling. Sort of mindless need to destroy. This anger and rage".

Hmm. Could get the old man on his side. He knew now what it was like, being a demon. How hard it was to control. "Good times. Go with it".

"No!" Bloke sounded almost normal again. Damn.

"Oh, it's fun. I can't let myself go like I used to, Buffy wouldn't like it. Do it for me. Let yourself go".

"I refuse to become a monster because I look like a monster. I have a soul. I have a conscience. I am a human being. Oh, is that Ethan? Stop the car".

Spike did, and Giles clambered out, lumbering down the street, sending some bird screaming and running in terror. Spike chortled, wishing he'd been in on the fun. The Watcher came back.

"Never mind, not him. Let's go".

At the bar, he chatted up the waitress, got the information they needed, and they headed for the motel on the edge of town, Giles growling lowly.

"How you feeling, mate?"

"Like snapping necks until everyone is dead".

Fantastic. If Buffy could see her Watcher now, she'd realize just how much control Spike had, how good he was being, all things considered. He contemplated going to find her instead of this Ethan bloke, at the same time encouraging Giles' violence with, "Now that sounds like a Fyarl demon. Good for you".

A set of bright lights suddenly shone in the rearview mirror, quickly bearing down on them. Looked like a Humvee, and Spike recalled the toy soldiers. He wasn't interested in meeting up with them again.

"Looks like we've picked up a tail. Military vehicle". A second Humvee rolled up in front of them. "And it's got a friend". Spike weighed his options. Without the ring, he wasn't quite as immune to their methods as before. And the military boys were probably out for blood. His blood.

He could abandon the Watcher to them, save his own hide. An image of a grieving Buffy flashed through his mind and he sighed. Bloody hell, but this white hat stuff was a real pain in the arse. "Right. We're near the motel now. I'll shake them off around the next corner, you jump out and run for it. They'll keep after me".

"Very good. And I can crush Ethan's bones," his passenger growled.

"That's right, mate, you go do that. Kill, kill, kill. Great fun". Careening violently around the corner, he shoved the Fyarl out. "Get to it".

Spying a narrow alley, Spike swerved into it, leaving the wider Humvees stuck at the entrance. He abandoned the car in the middle of the alley and dropped into the sewer through a manhole. Buggers would never find him now

Whistling jauntily once more, the vampire set off in search of his bride.

"So you say Spike saved you?" Buffy said to Giles later.

"Yes, once again. He saved me. You act as though you are surprised, yet you are the one who insists to me daily that you believe we should give him a chance. Allow him to try for redemption".

"I know… it's just. Well, it's Spike. I want to believe in him, but it's kinda hard".

"Trust me, Buffy, I understand the sentiment more than you will ever know. I must admit, however, having been a demon myself, no matter how briefly, curtailing the resultant demonic urges is easier said than done. My esteem for Spike has risen accordingly".

"Do all those big words mean that mean you're willing to give him a chance?"

"In light of his recent actions and… mine… yes. I will give him the opportunity to prove himself. I must have your word that you will not hesitate to do your duty should the need arise, however".

"Oh, I'm duty-bound where he's concerned, trust me. He's gotten the memo".

"Very well. And while we're on the subject of trust, I realize that this… Riley is it?" At Buffy's nod, he continued. "This Riley has proven himself quite useful, despite being one of these mysterious commandos. I understand that you like this boy and feel he is trust-worthy, but may I remind you that we know nothing about the Initiative or its motives, other than what he has told you. I'm not sure it's wise to place yourself at their disposal".

"Well, think of it this way. What better way to get the inside scoop than being inside the scoop? At least now we'll know what's really going on".

"I suppose you're right. But please, be careful. If what Ethan has suggested is even remotely true, this organization is far more sinister than you are being led to believe".

"I'll be caution-girl, don't you worry".

It was the next night before Spike found Buffy, out on patrol. He attempted to sneak up behind her but she whirled, stake ready, then dropped it as she realized who he was, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly instead. Spike hugged her back, nose buried in her hair. "What's this then? Happy to see me, luv?"

"I was worried about you", she mumbled into his chest. "When I couldn't find you. Giles said he didn't know if you'd escaped the commandos, and I had no idea where to look for you".

He tipped her chin up and smiled at her. "I'm here, luv. Safe and sound". His lips ached to meet hers, but he didn't know how she'd react to a kiss. She was unpredictable like that.

When she stepped back from him, composure regained, he regretted not taking the chance.

"Thanks," she told him, and he could hear the gratitude in her voice.

Wanting to hear her say it out loud, he asked, "For what?"

"For helping Giles. That was… that was more than just giving up evil. That was being good".

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to make a habit of it," he scoffed, hiding his pleasure at her praise behind bravado. "Just didn't want to hear you crying over the old sod".

Buffy cut him off with a kiss on his cheek. "Really. Thanks".

Spike knew his expression was giving him away, but he couldn't help it. The little chit owned his heart. "You're welcome," he rumbled, brushing his lips against hers. "Anything for my wife".

"Spi-i-i-ke," she groaned. "Don't start that. Please. We can't be more than friends. You know that".

"Friends that kiss?" he asked saucily.

She punched him in the shoulder. "No". He grabbed her hand, examined it.

"Well, look what we have here. Think this is the wrong hand," he smirked, pointing to the ring he'd given her, hope flaring up.

"That's the friend hand," Buffy said firmly. "And thanks. It's beautiful".

He let it drop. She'd given him more than he'd dared hope for so far. No need to bollix it up by being too pushy. "And my other ring? Do I get it back yet?"

Twining her fingers in his, Buffy began walking though the cemetery, pulling him along. "I… I hate worrying that you're vulnerable. Especially since I know those commandos are after you. But I hate worrying more that you're not. Know what I mean?"

"'Ve spent enough time with you now that I am able to suss out what you mean on occasion. Keep the ring then. Those military tossers are no match for me".

"I'm serious, Spike. They've got it in for you. Stay out of their way".

His heart soared. She was worried about him. "How 'bout I stay with you? Let you… protect me?" he asked, tongue curled naughtily, hoping she would agree. He could think of all kinds of things to do while she was 'protecting' him.

She gave him a fondly exasperated look. "No deal bleach-boy. Where are you staying?"

"Crypt," he admitted sheepishly. "Found a decent one in another cemetery".

"Freaky vampire," she teased.

"Yeah, well. You're the one who took my bloody ring away. Can't pretend to be all human-like without it, can I?" he muttered sullenly. He missed going out in the sun, spending the day like a regular man, much as he would never admit it.

A newly risen vampire caught Buffy's attention momentarily. "Hi. Welcome to your unlife. Sorry it's so short," she quipped, plunging her stake in. Spike winced in sympathy.

"So. I'm here, in Sunnydale," he reminded her as the dust settled. "What now?"

She touched his cheek and he leaned into it. "Let's… let's just see, okay?"

It was enough. For now. "Goodnight, luv. Sleep well".

Smiling softly, Buffy said, "Night Spike. See you," and left him standing there, staring foolishly after her like a schoolboy with his first crush.

Buffy's visit to the Initiative complex was overwhelming, but Riley stayed by her side, proudly showing off his real work. When Professor Walsh had first greeted her in the gleaming facility, Buffy hadn't been sure whether to salute or find a seat and take notes. She settled for a handshake.

"So… the Slayer. Is real. And was sitting in my class all last semester. Or, well, at least most of last semester. Your absences make more sense now that I realize your energies were directed elsewhere". She looked Buffy over. "I would like to see more of what you can do. Test your abilities. I find it interesting that we use the latest in scientific technology and state-of-the-art weaponry while you – if I understand this correctly – poke the hostiles with a sharp stick".

"It's more effective than it sounds?" Buffy offered.

"I'm sure that it is. As I'm just as sure that we can learn much from each other. I'll work on getting some training exercises to go through with Agent Finn in a day or two".

"See, she loved you," Riley said later as he patrolled with her.

"We didn't do anything but talk. There was nothing to love".

He stopped walking and took her hand. "I think there might be lots to love".

"We're not talking about Professor Walsh anymore, are we," Buffy replied uneasily, slipping her hand out of his.

"Look, I… I can't help but think that this is fate. You're the most amazing girl I've ever met, and then you turn out to be somebody – somebody I can share my real life with. Do you know how incredible that is?"

She grabbed his arm and quickly marched him away, away from the crypt that Spike was squatting on top of, watching them. She could hear the vampire growling and was surprised Riley hadn't.

If she'd never been kidnapped by Spike, Buffy felt sure she'd be dating Riley. She was attracted to him, attracted to the normality he exuded, she couldn't deny it. But… things were what they were. She had feelings for Spike that she couldn't seem to shake, no matter how much she wanted to. So. She had to end this thing with the soldier before it began.

"Riley. I like you. I really do. And maybe under different circumstances… but right now, you and me – it's not going to happen". She glanced sideways, made sure Spike had remained where he was, and lowered her voice. "Can we stick to friends? And if things ever change for me, I'll let you know?"

He looked down at her, confusion warring with disappointment. "I don't understand. I feel like there's something between us, but you keep pushing me away. Is there somebody else?"

"No! Nobody else!" she rushed. "Just… bad break-up. Bad timing. Bad… a lot of things. I'm not date material right now. Okay?"

"I'm willing to wait. Until you're ready, Buffy. I have the feeling you're worth it".

She gave him a bashful smile, his sweet words melting her heart just a little more. "You're something else, Riley Finn. I'll see tomorrow afternoon".

Understanding he was being dismissed, Riley left. Buffy watched him until he was gone, then turned to Spike, who was now lurking on the other side of the tree behind her, smoking furiously.

"The stalker routine is going to get old in a hurry".

Spike moodily ground his cigarette out. "Not stalking. Watching my sodding wife make googly-eyes at another man. A man who happens to be my bloody enemy. Should've finished him off before".

"See – making death threats against my friends? Not earning you any points".

"He's not your friend, Buffy," Spike spat. "He wants more. He wants what's mine".

Throwing up her hands, she yelled, "Argh! For the last time! I am not yours!"

With a visible effort, Spike schooled his face into neutrality and stepped away from her. "Right. Just friends. That's all you are to anybody. Angel, me, Captain Cardboard. Keep us all dangling along on your strings".

"That's not fair," she said lowly. "I'm not dangling you along. I've told you, you and I can never be more than friends. And with you, even friends is pushing it".

Spike cocked his head, watching her. "Is it working? You convince yourself yet? 'Cause you're right, you and I will never be just friends".

Pinching the bridge of her nose to fend off the encroaching headache, she retorted, "I can't deal with this. I'm leaving now," and began to walk away. No matter what he thought, Spike had no right to stalk her or get angry if she hung out with another guy.

Running ahead to cut her off, he flung at her, "Fine. You want to date some other bloke, go ahead. See if some other wanker can give you what you need. But why him? Why one of the sodding soldiers?"

The headache was definitely here to stay. "Look. I'm not dating him. You heard me tell him no. And I know he's got it out for you. I'm keeping my eye on him. On this whole military Initiative thing. He's bringing me into their operations, and I need this opportunity. Need to see what they're doing. So can we let it go?"

"No," he growled. "Not so long as I can see that you're interested in him. As more than a friend".

Why did he have to be so stubborn? "You know what? I do like Riley. He's nice to me. Treats me well. Is sweet and normal and not a soulless vampire. If it weren't for you screwing my life up, I'd be dating him right now".

Spike barked out a mirthless, hurt laugh. "You're a cold bitch," he muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Buffy glared daggers at him. "And you're an asshole".

He drew himself up and loomed over her, backing her up against a nearby crypt. "Don't think White Bread could satisfy you, sweetheart. You need a little monster in your man".

"I do not!"

He put his hands on either side of her, blocking her in. "You do. Admit it. Vampires get you hot".

Feeling trapped, Buffy lashed out, punching him in the face. "One. One vampire got me hot. You… you're just… a disease," she snarled out as he flew backwards and landed on his back, clutching his bleeding nose. It was her turn to loom over him as he lay there. "Stockholm syndrome. That's all this is. If I were in my right mind, I would feel nothing but loathing and disgust for you".

Springing to his feet, Spike threatened, "If you don't quit being such a bloody bitch, maybe I'll bite you".

"I'd like to see you try," she scoffed, spinning into a kick that laid him out flat again. He grabbed her ankle and flipped her over, then pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. She bucked him off and they both sprang to their feet, a whirlwind of kicks and punches that mere mortal eyes would be unable to follow.

Panting, Buffy taunted, "You're going down. Without your ring, you can't take me, Spike. Let's face it. I'm better than you".

"Maybe at some things, luv, but I'm fairly certain I can… take… you if I want" he replied, oozing sex, and her legs trembled. Ignoring them, she launched herself at him again, and they ranged over the cemetery once more, trading blows.

"Come on, Slayer, give it to me. Give it to me good," he purred, beckoning her to come at him with crooked fingers while biting his lip, his face alight with the joy of battle. Buffy could feel her own lips grinning in response. God, but this was fun. He was no lame fledgling, dead before she'd even begun. As the battle raged on, her blood sang, and wetness pooled between her legs, matching the lust she saw in his darkened eyes.

Finally, she got in a kick that sent him sprawling, and she straddled him, stake at his heart. "I win," she whispered, thighs pinning his hips beneath her.

"You do," he answered in a choked voice, shifting slightly so she sank farther down onto him, the bulge in his jeans nudging into her. They stared at each other for a long time, breathing heavily, his blue eyes boring into her with naked intensity. "What now? You gonna dust me?" Spike asked softly.

With a hard swallow and a shake of her head, Buffy climbed off of him. "I go home. Got a test tomorrow. You go do whatever it is you do".

He sat up, wrists dangling loosely on his knees. "Want to see my place? 'Ve been fixing it up".

"I'm serious…" she began.

"Just… please? Want your opinion. That's it".

She extended her hand to him, helped him up, peered into his face. "Are you in control?" she asked seriously. "Because I want to be clear. I'm saying no. To whatever it is you're imagining, the answer is no".

Smiling crookedly, he said, "Read you loud and clear, Slayer. No funny stuff. Just a home tour".

"Well then, lead on Martha Stewart".

(Isn't that Riley's girl?

Don't think she's his girl, Graham. But yeah, that's Buffy.

I thought she was supposed to be some kind of slayer or something. Doesn't look like she's slaying him.

No, she sure doesn't. Looks more like she's about to go make hot monkey sex with him. And that's the hostile that took out our men.

What the fuck, Forrest? Think she's a hostile too?

I sure as hell think something stinks about her. What d'you suppose, should we tell Riley about this?

Negative. Let's report to Walsh, see what she says. Riley doesn't need to know the girl he's in love with is a vampire whore.)