9.

"Will, what the hell is he doing here? Have you gone mad? He's a vampire!" Buffy hissed, pulling Willow into the house, glaring back over her shoulder at Spike. He hunched down into his leather coat and glared right back at her, standing outside on the porch, a cigarette dangling insolently from his lips.

"He says he can help," Willow hissed back. "He knows where Giles – I mean, uh, Ripper – took your Mom." She paused. "You have to let him in, Buffy. Who knows what might happen? And, and, I'm sure he means it. That he can help." She looked closely at her friend. "Are you alright?" she asked doubtfully. Buffy's face was white and drawn, dark circles pooling under her strained eyes. Buffy nodded sharply, opening her mouth to reply when a drawling voice interrupted her.

"Yeah, s'right, I can help. And I think you really need me." He smiled slowly, wondering why they bothered to whisper. "I can hear every word you're saying, Slayer, and Red's right – looking a bit rough there, you are." he added conversationally.

Buffy shoved Willow behind her and faced Spike, fists clenching at her sides and muscles taut. "I don't like you, Spike. I don't want your help."

He shrugged and turned slightly. "Doesn't much matter whether you want my help. You need it. Big difference, Slayer." He flicked the cigarette to the porch floor and stared down at it for a moment, before grinding it savagely under a boot heel. "You want Mummy dearest back in one piece, you invite me in. If not – well. I'll go, shall I? See if they've done anything to her. Not know for being nice to guests, vampires. And that teacher's shaping up to be a good 'un. I could come back and give you a progress report." He paused to think and added, "Oh yeah, and you need me to help with Angelus, as well. You know, with the whole killing the world thing. You can't do it alone."

Buffy stared at him for a few moments longer, almost grinding her teeth in frustration. Finally she spoke. "And what do you get out of all this, Spike? I know you're not offering because you're really a nice fluffy bunny in disguise. What's your price for my not staking you?"

His voice was steady as he stared into her eyes. "I'll help you stop Angelus and get your mother back from your Watcher. You let me – and Dru – go. Leave Sunnydale, together, in one piece. No killing or staking or death of any kind. Simple. Take the offer or leave it, Slayer. It's the only one you'll get. Do we have a deal?"

Reluctantly, Buffy nodded, then took a step forward till her nose was almost against his, speaking slowly, as if to a child. "If you betray us or double cross us in any way – you're dead, Spike. Get me? If you escape, I'll hunt you and I'll find you." She turned her back on him and moved towards Willow, still standing inside the doorway, watching them with wide eyes. When she stepped through the doorway, Willow took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Come in, Spike," Buffy said wearily. "And if you touch anything or do anything, then – well. Leaving Sunnydale will be the least of your worries."

Smiling slightly, the blond vampire entered the house, pushing the door closed behind him with a solid, final boom.

* * * *

Joyce struggled up through foggy darkness, slowly becoming aware of an ache in her head and an agonising pain in her shoulders. Her eyelids lifted, dropped, lifted and finally stayed open. Blearily she looked around, blinking furiously to try and focus.

She was in much the same position as the teenaged girl had been only a couple of days before. Standing on tiptoe, arms above her head, bound to the pipes in the corner of the basement, legs lashed together, a gag wound tightly across her mouth. Her hands were numb and her head throbbed.

As her vision cleared, she became aware of a figure approaching from one side. Her eyes widened as she saw Jenny Callender for the first time. The honey-skinned teachers' face was Changed, ridged, eyes green. She smiled as she walked towards Joyce.

"Comfortable?" she inquired. Her voice was the same as always, low, sweet, slightly husky. She stood directly in front of Joyce now, and ran a hand down the older woman's arm in a gesture that was almost a caress. Turning her head, she spoke to someone out of Joyce's sight, though when he replied she knew who it was. The voice was behind her.

"Can I play? Just a little? Please?" Jenny's voice wheedled, oiled silk over hidden menace. "I won't hurt her. Much. Maybe."

"Not yet. Be patient, Jenny – maybe soon," he answered. Jenny pouted and sighed, features abruptly shifting back to her human disguise. Her eyes were dark with disappointment.

"You never let me have any fun," she said petulantly. She pinched Joyce's arm, hard, before turning away. Joyce gave a muffled yelp of pain behind her gag, and twisted slightly, arms screaming in protest.

Ripper casually walked in front of Joyce, and caught at Jenny, holding her by the upper arms, grasping her tightly enough to leave white indentations on her skin. She growled and smiled, Changing again. "You're hurting me," she murmured.

Rippers face, ridged and inhuman, was expressionless as he looked at her, staring into those green, soulless eyes. Suddenly he smiled, lips pulling back over sharp, wicked incisors. "Good."

The two vampires stared at one another for a moment, then Ripper pulled her forwards into a kiss, arching her backwards. As the two demons sank onto the floor, tearing at each others' clothes, Joyce closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds that flowed over her.