Sorry it took so long to update.  Had a party weekend in honor of Labor Day.  Woohoo!  SO, here you go, two new chapters, one now and one more later on tonight. Enjoy and review please!!!

Chapter 3: A Bit Of A Mystery
It was actually quite fine, a large one bedroom third floor apartment downtown. Every room had large windows covering the walls with wooden shudders that were, at the moment, closed. The living room had doors that led to a large terrace. Buffy noticed the lack of screens behind the glass, not the most secure abode for a vampire of Spike's reputation.
"Nice," she remarked as Spike turned on the lights in the rest of the apartment. "You do realize that all my bags are in my car at the club, don't you?"
"We'll get them tomorrow before the wedding," he answered from the kitchen. She walked over to the balcony doors and pushed them open letting in waves of sweet night air. It was almost seductive, moist heat wrapping itself around her bare skin.
"Do you want something??" he called to her.
"Yeah, I want to know who Leila is." Spike appeared in the doorway of the adjoining kitchen. "And why she's got you so angry," she added.
Spike sat down in the full brown leather chair with a sigh. Buffy remained where she was. The breeze wafting in lifted a few strands of her hair and billowed her skirt. She was right out of one of his fantasies, complete with her trademark Slayer hands on hips stance, that pose that drove him wild.
"Leila...is a woman-"
"Did you sleep with her?" Buffy blurted out. She shocked herself; she didn't mean to say that out loud!
"What?" he asked, mildly offended, mildly.
"I'm sorry," she blushed. "I have no right to ask that. Don't know why I did."
"I didn't," he answered firmly.
"Did you want to?" Buffy's hand shot over her treacherous mouth.
"Buffy!"  He was shocked by the Slayer's bluntness.  And after all these years, she wanted to know about his sex life?  Probably to make sure his was unsatisfactory, which it was, while hers was glorious.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It just slipped out," she apologized from behind her shield.
"Well, if you give me half a second, I'll tell you who she is." Buffy sat down in the matching chair opposite Spike. "Leila is...a sort of Slayer in her own rite."
"That can't be," Buffy interrupted once more. "Faith is in jail and I'm still kicking."
"Again, half a second, please?"
Buffy shrank into the leather like she'd been scolded by her father. "Since you said 'please.'"
Once he was content with her silence, Spike continued. "Leila is a bit of a mystery. Somehow, some way, during one apocalypse or another, a vampire and the daughter of a Slayer had a child. Don't ask me how, Slayer, because I don't know. It's pretty near impossible from my experience on the matter, despite His Royal Poofiness and his lil spawn. Anyway, Leila is a mutt, some vampiric traits, but she can frolic in the UV rays."
"Let me take a stab in the dark here; she's gone all evil," Buffy guessed. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, with a new interest in this woman.
"She's gone, period. The chit's daft, couldn't deal with the conflict I suppose, the good versus the evil. That and the Council has had her under lock and key since they found her."
"Poor girl."
Spike snorted. " 'Poor girl?' She is a menace, Slayer. Doesn't matter how cute she is on the outside, that head of hers is a disaster."
"You think she's cute?" Buffy inquired, barely above a whisper.
Spike stared at her for a moment, his mind racing behind a plaintive expression. "She's a kid, love, seventeen or so."
"Oh." Buffy waited a beat before asking her next question. "How long has she been out?"
"She's had close supervision or rather she was supposed to have supervision, but she took off a few months back without a trace."
"And how do you know all this Council business?"
Spike retrieved his cigarettes and lighter from his pockets. "Giles mostly. And I've run into her once or twice."
"Giles?" Buffy's head picked up at the sound of her former Watcher's name. "You spoke to Giles?"
Spike was stunned.  Hadn't she heard?  "You do know that I live in England don't you, pet?" Buffy gave no response. "I only come down here every few months on holiday to check on the club. I am working with your Watcher and for the Council in some twisted sense of irony. Now, that I'm not in Sunnyhell, away from 'Slayer protection,' and chipless this is how I ensure my life."
Buffy contemplated this revelation. "So, the Council wanted you dead so you decided to work for them."
"It's not as simple as all that. But, in essence, yes. I help Rupes and they leave me alone."
"Nice deal," she said sarcastically. Spike nodded. "Who would have thought you and Giles working together?  And yet here you are in one piece."

    "Ha, bloody, ha, Slayer.  It's not impossible for me to get along with people, just because you and I always fought."

     "We haven't fought much yet," she said, taking in the paint on her fingernails.

     "Give it time, Slayer.  You won't always be able to stop yourself."

     She knew that, creature of habit that she was.  "What do you think Leila wants with the book?" Buffy asked, returning to the subject at hand.
"Not quite sure, but the Watcher will." Spike rose and picked up the telephone on the side table.
"You're calling him now?" Buffy exclaimed. Spike just cocked his head to the side and started dialing only to return it to its cradle seconds later. "Thought better of it?"
"No.  I just remembered that you never told me why you were here. What mission do you need me for?  Watcher can help out with that one as well."
Buffy let out a huge yawn. "We'll discuss it tomorrow. I'm here and that's the important part. I am so beat and jet lagged. Call Giles, tell him I'll talk to him at a civilized hour. Now, where can I sleep?" Buffy asked as she rose from her comfy chair. "And in what?"
"You can take the bedroom and one of my shirts if you like."
Buffy smiled and went down the hall to find Spike's room.
It was peaceful and cozy, unlike his crypt. It was a shame it wasn't used more often. A large four-poster bed with white silk sheets, a corner armoire, closet, balcony doors and even an entertainment center. "Spike needs his telly," she giggled. "Wonder how he likes Spanish soaps?"
She found his shirts in a drawer of the armoire. She opted for a black one. After laying her expensive dress on a brocade recliner, she snuggled into the mattress and sheets and promptly closed her eyes. She remained awake, however. Thoughts about her evening were prancing through her mind. She finally found him. It didn't take much to find him physically, just a few well placed punches. Truthfully, she felt like she'd been searching for him since he left five years ago.
She wanted to find him so badly, but pride and self-preservation won out after a long internal battle. Now, she needed him again and eventually she would have to tell him the reason for her visit. But, she didn't want to dwell on that. On anything really.  She just needed to concentrate on being civil with Spike.  She was surprised how easy it was to fall back into their groove.  She thanked her lucky stars for it; she didn't want to fight, not now atleast.

  In that place between sleep and awake, Buffy thought she heard Spike enter the room. She thought she heard him open several drawers. And she thought she felt him watch her sleep, she in his black T-shirt, seemingly unaware of his presence. When she heard the door close, she was ready to rest.

"Come on, Princess. Mustn't sleep the day away," came a voice from outside Buffy's subconscious.
She groaned her displeasure. "A few more minutes," she pleaded.
"Fine, love, a few more minutes, but that will only leave you less time to get ready for the wedding."
Buffy jumped out of bed. She had completely forgotten about the wedding! She raced out the door and barreled right into her personal alarm clock. "Oh, God, I have to shower, do my makeup, my hair!" She rattled off her list as she scrambled through the apartment, unconsciously treating it like her own.
Spike watched her with amusement. Right then she was in the kitchen trying to make coffee, a beverage he had grown to enjoy considerably. While it percolated, she slowed down and turned to the lounging vampire. "Well, let's go get the car, we don't have all day."
"You don't plan on leaving in that do you?" Buffy looked down at herself. She had just been running around in nothing but Spike's shirt. She felt the pink rise in her cheeks as he chuckled at her expense. "Don't worry, pet. Car's here; I had Larry get it."
"But, you didn't have the keys."
"Didn't need any," he grinned.
"If you broke a window..." she began.
"Your precious rental is fully intact. Honestly, I'm shocked you haven't banged it up yourself. When did you start driving?"
"When I couldn't rely on Xander to give Dawn rides everywhere. It wasn't fair to him."
"Well, your trunks are by the doors in the bedroom. Let's get you a towel and you can start getting ready."
Spike open a small hall closet and produced two fluffy blue terry cloth towels. "How did you sleep by the way?"
"Great, just not long enough."
"Not long enough? Woman, you've been out for the better part of the day!"
"I know, but you've got a comfy bed, I didn't want to leave it."  Buffy took the towels quickly from Spike's hands, not meeting his eyes, mumbling her thanks and entered the bathroom.

     Spike returned to the living room and looked at the book before him. Giles wasn't home when he rang last night. "Must have been off with the new bint," he grumbled. "Something is definitely wrong when the Watcher is getting shagged more than I am," he told the book. He leaned into his chair, his thinking chair, and ran through his meetings with Leila again. She was strong yes, but she was still a girl. She actually seemed to fancy him until they fought and he pummeled her. Not that she didn't get her licks in as well, but all in all, she was defeated and returned to the Council. That was after her second escape.
The emblem on the book's cover stared at Spike. He recognized it, but he couldn't place it at the moment. He was too consumed with the yellow pad of paper beside the relic. It was the makings of Spike's best man toast. Unfortunately, it was full of mostly scribbles and cross outs. He couldn't think of anything to say. Clem and Carlotta were like family to him and he did not want to botch this up on their special day. Everything he wrote sounded poofy. Then again, maybe this was a case where he could be poofy and still be respectable. No! He didn't like being poofy, not if he could help it.
"Spike!"
Buffy stuck out her turban head. "Spike?"
"Let me guess, the knob's stuck again," he ventured.
"Good news, shower's fine. Bad news, I used all the hot water."
"Don't worry 'bout it, pet. I showered before I got you up. I figured you would use it all."
"Oh." Buffy's head disappeared into the steam filled room once more.
One look at the clock told Spike he needed to get dressed. Lord only knew how long it would take him to do his tie.

Buffy pranced into the bedroom, clean as a whistle, steam still rising off her of skin.  In the bedroom, found Spike finishing the buttons on his crisp white dress shirt which was already tucked into his white pants. She paused for a moment and watched him.
"Somethin' wrong, Slayer?" he asked.
"What's with the white?" Spike just stared back at her. "You wear so much white. Did the duster finally bite the- hmmm bad choice of words. What happened to it?" she completed.
"I still have it. It didn't go anywhere except to the closet." He nodded to the one to his right.
"Still, why white? It's never been one of your colors."
"You're in white," he observed, referring to the towel she wore around her glistening figure.
"Funny," she remarked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Spike picked up his tie from the bed and put it around his neck.  Now, how did he do this again?  He hadn't worn a fancy tie like this since the 1920's or so, during his fedora and spats days.
"Can you do that?" she questioned.
"I can sure as Hell try."
Buffy stepped towards the vampire. "Can I-" She promptly shut her mouth and studied the plush carpeting on the floor.
"Can you....?"
"May I try?" she whispered. Her wide innocent expression intrigued Spike, almost more than the request itself.
He shrugged. "If you think you can."
Ooh, a challenge!  " I know I can," she corrected as she took the silk pieces in her hands.  She pulled the fabric tight against this neck.

    "Ow!  Watch it there, love.  May not need to breathe but I don't fancy rope burn."  Buffy made no response.  Her eyes were slightly glazed over, as if she was reliving a memory.
Spike watched her nimble fingers begin their work. "Where did you learn how to do a Windsor?"
"My mom. I used to watch her tie my dad's ties when I was little. They just looked so cute. I wondered why he didn't just do it himself. Mom said she liked to do it. She felt like one of those sitcom wives. It was a small thing she could do for him."
Buffy's eyes never met Spike's as she reminisced. He saw her. He saw a small genuine smile creep across her lips as she thought about her parents. Untainted glee danced in her green orbs as she appraised her handiwork.
"Perfect.  I've still got it." She smoothed the tie down Spike's chest.
"Yes, you do," he agreed.

     They stood in silence for a moment, Buffy's hand still on his chest. She felt a sensation come over her. It was vaguely familiar, but she had never experienced it with this vampire before, only once when she was seventeen. It was as if she was being kissed from the inside out. It was intense to say the very least. The feeling must have traveled from her fingers into Spike because the vampire suddenly retreated. He stepped to the bed to get his jacket.

     Slipping it onto his shoulders, he couldn't bare to look back at Buffy. How could he with everything he saw in her face, felt radiating off of her skin, and she was still in a towel!  And he, as any man, warm or cold blooded would, had the typical reaction.  "You are a bad vampire, Spike ol boy," he thought to himself.  Good thing for the jacket; he could maintain some dignity.  He quickly gained the strength and composure to venture into the green haven.
"Did you hear from Giles?" Buffy asked, trying to mask her uneasiness.  Too fast, too fast, she repeated over and over in her head.  Bad Buffy.  But, what was she supposed to do?  He needed assistance; she gave it to him.  Couldn't have him going to Clem's wedding looking unruly. At the same time though, it felt good to touch a man again, feel his chest beneath her fingers.  It had been awhile now since Jackson.  Oh, God!  Did Spike know about Jackson?  Did he have any idea?

   "No, he didn't call back yet.  Must be on one of his weekend long shtupping holidays."

   Buffy crinkled her nose.  "And that was not something I needed to know, Spike, majorly gross."

   Spike shrugged.  He sat down on his bed, still unmade from Buffy's stay in it.  "So, you want to tell me why you're here now?"  He laced his shiny shoes while waiting for the Slayer to respond.

    "Well…"  Buffy began to pick at the terry cloth on her towel.  Now, wasn't the time to jump into this, but Spike deserved to know some of it.  Yeah, some of it.  "I had a dream," she said.

     Spike laughed.  "So did Dr. King.  What was yours about, peace and harmony among vampires and humans around the world?"

      "No," she sneered at his joke.  "It was about you.  And before you even think it, it was not one of those dreams!"

      "Wasn't thinking a thing, truly."  She would think his mind was in the gutter, wouldn't she?  "So, what was this dream about?"

      "It was a Slayer dream, I know it.  I can't recall all the details, but I remember clearly being told to find and follow you because you'll show me the way."

       "The way?  Rather ominous, ain't it?"

       "It's a Slayer dream," she repeated.  "Slayers don't dream about happy go lucky Lollipops and gummi bears.  So, I'm needed for a mission, I suppose it has to do with Leila, and that's why I sought you out."  She crossed her arms as she finished her bullshit, hoping it would take.

        Unfortunately, Spike still possessed the ability to see right through her.  "Very well," he grinned.  "You stick to that, for now.  I don't have the time or inclination to pry it out of you right now.  I have other things to do.  I'm going to go and try Giles again. You get dressed. We've got to leave soon," he said.
"Where is this exactly? It can't be in any of the usual places right?" she wondered as she rifled through her luggage.
"You'll see, Slayer." He shut the door behind him, his last word reverberating in Buffy's head.
She continued to pull out her clothes. Lucky for her, she loved nice clothes. Several of her outfits would do well for demon nuptials. But which one? Her mind raced between the red coatdress, the black floor length wrap around or the white blazer with matching dress pants. Was it wrong to wear white since the bride will be in white? Spike will be in white too, but that seemed to be the norm now. Buffy was at a loss. Then she remembered the vanilla strapless T length flowy silk dress with the light knit sweater. She liked that sweater with its flecks of silver. That would be perfect, not white, but a nice subtle color. She didn't want to stand out too much except for the whole being human part.
She retrieved the outfit and dressed quickly. Of course, after the dress came the hair and after the hair came make-up. Her mind again went to the other guests. Who would be there? What would they be wearing? How out of place would she be?
She dashed out of the bedroom full of young girl insecurities.
"Spike!" she called as she walked into the living room. He was standing with the pad of paper in his hands looking rather serious. "Spike," she repeated.
He whirled around to see the Slayer, his Slayer, in her chosen outfit. After blinking his appreciation, he vocalized it. "You look beautiful," he complimented.
"Are you kidding? I don't have my shoes on, my hair's not done and neither is my make-up."
"I always liked you slightly unkempt," he smirked.
Buffy pretended to ignore the comment. "Spike, what is this going to be like? What should I expect?"
"You can expect to be late if you don't get your ass in gear," he quipped. He noticed her fallen expression. "Don't worry yourself. You'll be fine and in good company. But, we can't be late cause I'm the best man and you can't get there without me."
"How's that?"
"It's in another dimension."

Okay, are you ready for the wedding???!!!  Hope so because it's next.