Thanks for those who gave me feedback

Thanks for those who gave me feedback….. the second part may be a bit slow, but it offers gap fillers for what goes on behind the story in some areas.

Chapter 2: "DEFCON FIVE, anyone?" (Or wouldja prefer if I took a dump here or in yer toilet?)

The window to Buffy's room silently opened to let the dark man in. Looking around and making sure that no one heard him enter, he stealthily made his way to the closet and drawers. Taking a bag full of clothes and sundries, he checked to see if any of his movements disturbed the way the room looked before his scavenging hunt. Finding everything in order as it was before, he left the way he came in – sighing in relief, for he hadn't been back here since the Chosen One's death. The room just SMELLED of Buffy – so much so, that it took all of his will power to move the way he did moments ago in taking her belongings. He felt like a grave robber, but then again – he wasn't the one with the pick and shovel, he hoped the Protector wouldn't send him back here into her room again. He would've died of a heart attack if he'd do this again – not that he hasn't done it before, but THIS was Buffy's room….. got to respect that you know. As for his heart having an attack, his hadn't beat in the last century or so for it to ever happen.

…………

Willow entered the Summers residence and looked in on Dawn. Calling her to get ready for school. When she turned to close the door behind her, she was surprised to find a figure all covered in a heavy tarp come barreling his way into the house. She yelped and swung the door wide open to allow the smoking vamp in.

"Hi Spike, good morning Willow!" Dawn's voice yodeled from upstairs, making Willow jump again. The Wicca was still wary of letting Spike take care of Dawn, but the canny vampire was adamant in taking care of her since Buffy died…. Plus the unsettling fact that Dawn trusts Spike to do so, was not helping matters much.

"GET DOWN HERE OR YOU'LL BE LATE AGAIN YOU SODDING TWIT!!" Spike screamed back, fluffing himself down and checking for burns. "That little miss moffet is bloody killing me slowly."

That got him a giggle from the witch and he gave her a glare of impotent fury, which sent Willow into a gale of laughter. "And a bloody good HA-HA and sod off to you, too."

"Sorry," Willow said, trying to catch her breath. "But you volunteered to watch over her."

"Least I could do for Buffy…" Spike's voice trailed off as he mentioned her name, and Willow looked down for a few moments, all trace of laughter fading. "Hey know, don't cry. It would look bad and if Dawn sees you cry, so will she. And you know how I hate another tissue addicted moment if both of you start crying your bloody guts out."

Willow smiled faintly and thanked the vampire for the advice. It's been four months and the pain of losing her best friend and sister-type still hit her pretty hard. Tara was the only one who knew she still cried herself to sleep every night since Buffy's death. She looked up to where Dawn's room was and knew that Dawn was just like her – acting whole on the outside, while ripped to shreds on the inside. Her gaze turned to the vampire who had become next to family to Dawn and wondered. Chip or no, he HAD changed – he'd still be a monster, but where Dawn's concerned, he was family.

Dawn came down the steps and looked at Willow silently musing at Spike and turned to the peroxide vamp and said: "You were off and drunk again last night at her grave weren't you?" It wasn't a question, coming from her - it was a statement of fact. Willow's eyes widened at that, she didn't even know about that at all.

Spike hung his head and nodded. "Sorry luv," he answered, "Not much else to do while you're asleep. But don't worry, I promise not to get too sloshed again."

"PROMISE?" Dawn pouted, which got to Spike in an annoying manner. Bloody hell, what the hell happened to the BIG BAD when the kid decided to drive him crazy with her company? Slayer, this is ALL your fault for screwing me up. Chip or no, I bloody well liked my life the way it was before I met you. But then again, my life wouldn't have any meaning without you either. Oh great, think more of these and I'd become a poof like my fucking sire. He noticed Willow and Dawn give him a double take and realized he must've said at least part of what he was thinking out loud. Grabbing the heavy tarp, he opened the door and ran to his car, making sure the passenger doors were open to let them in.

The witch and the key exchanged bemused glances and followed Spike outside and went on to drop Dawn off to school, and Willow off to college. After that, Spike headed off towards the Magic Box. There were some things he needed to get. And he hoped no one would be too nosy for him to do so.

………………………

Giles felt the vampire come in from behind the store, shrugging the tarp down and out of sight. He came so often that the Watcher got so used to seeing the blond nuisance around, he didn't have to look up to know that it was Spike. Anya was by the shelves, checking inventory and talking to her husband on the phone at the same time. Rupert Giles marveled at how the former demon did that and kept a straight inventory at all. The wedding between her and Xander a month ago livened up the usually somber mood in the group since Buffy passed away. It gave them new hope that the world will continue to mend. A few weeks after the Slayer's death, Faith was released into his custody and even she asked for Giles to become her part-time watcher. He had a long talk with Faith and had decided that she was indeed sincere about turning in a new leaf. With grudging consent, the former Scooby gang also accepted her and let her continue Buffy's legacy. She patrolled almost every night after that. Right now, she was in Los Angeles helping Angel on a case.

"What brings you here today, Spike?" asked Giles, coming out of his reverie.

"What?" Spike replied, "Does everybody have to have a reason for coming into your store?"

Rupert gave the vampire an annoyed look and shrugged.

"All right then," Spike continued, handing the Watcher a list. "I need a few of these."

Giles studied the list and looked at Spike in puzzlement. "Of course I have these, but why on earth would you want them for, vampires don't get migraines or ulcers?" The list were a few basic compounds which could be mixed to become something akin to aspirin and of antacids – of the herbal kind, mind you.

"And when do Vampires have splitting ones from a goddamn chip?" William, the Bloody shot back. "And I'm paying this time."

"Oh, in that case……"

. . . . . . . . .

Later that night after all the chores were done, Spike wandered back into his former crypt (he had moved into Buffy's house to keep watch on Dawn) and set the herbs down in front of Richard Todd.

Todd woke up when he felt the vampire near, and grunted his thanks for fetching the missing ingredients. Normally, they were the basic cures for migraines and upset stomachs – add a little something more and they'd be potent for a whole different reason. After what happened last night, he decided to move slowly and carefully from here on.

Spike walked over to where the Slayer's body lay and checked up on her. So Beautiful, even in death – she still radiated life everlasting. "What the hell?!" Color had returned to her face and that she was breathing regularly now. He remembered last night's miracle:

The Slayer's body materialized out over her grave and landed in a flash of blinding light. Richard turned his gaze back to the vampire and ordered him to not tell anyone of this. He then proceeded to ask Spike to go back into Buffy's room in her house and get a few of her things.

"How is she?" Spike asked as Richard drew near, pounding the herbs into a stone cup and mixing it with warm water.

"She's recovering," Todd Replied, testing the taste of the mixture and propped her head up and then opened Buffy's mouth wide and gave her the medicine. "But recovering too slowly."

"So why can't she bloody well speak or see?" Spike waved his hand over and over the Slayer's eyes.

"She had too much energy to absorb when she took that ten point five score swan dive to close the gate." Richard answered, letting her head back down and explained. "The energy didn't kill her, just sent her into stasis. That was why there was little blood and torn bones when you found her lying there after she fell."

"And that is good because…….?"

"Imagine that robot Buffy of yours," Richard continued, making Spike blanch at the memory. "The robot had an "OFF" switch – so imagine the multidimensional barrier's energy as one like it and you'd get it as to why she's like this."

"So what you're trying to do is to find the switch and turn it back on?" Spike said slowly.

"Already found it," Todd said, annoyed for the blatantly obvious. "Problem is - she's still brain-dead."

"Come again?!" Spike asked, confused.

"Now imagine your chip with a thousand mega-volt shock attack on your brain - wiping every memory on how to even live and whatever else you need to know. And oh, like every wired neuron has to be rewired for it to work again"

Spike's head spun, in other words; it would be like a machine running on automatic pilot – but without the command brain, literally.

"What about what I got you, what does it do?"

"Nothing much," Todd said. "They were herbs to let her body's natural defenses go into overdrive and release most of the leftover energy I haven't gotten rid of after I revived her and took what was holding her back – to all outward appearances, she very well was dead. After that's done, I'm going to have to do some cerebral reprogramming."

"Then what now?" Spike sat on a nearby stone outcropping.

"We wait." Richard answered, putting the remains of the mixture away for future use. "Besides, I feel trouble's brewing and we can't be involved yet until she's up and back to full health."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Spike suddenly stood up, not liking where this conversation was now heading to.

"Would you believe another Apocalypse?" a new voice said behind them.

Both men whirled to find the oddest dressed creature in front of them.

It was the demon most knew who went by the name of Whistler.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

To Be Continued…..

How you ladies and gents like them apples so far? J