A/N: Number one I'm not sure if FF is going to pull this story. We'll give it a shot shall we. Number two I am in utter and complete awe of the power that is Joss and BtVS. Beneath you was amazing and I could never hope to write as well as that. I struggled with this one in the wake of such powerful storytelling. Keep in mind that the Spike here is NOT souled. Certain aspects however did sneak in but they were there before just not as pronounced. Okay I'm babbling. Hope you guys like. Sorry for the delay. And even though I am horrible at returning email, I do read and save every one and they truly make my day. Thank you all.

……eight, nine, ten, heel, spin, one, two, three…..

Buffy paced the length of the lobby. Upon awakening,  she had spared a passing glance to the interior of the theater lobby she had fallen into. Now with a little more time to connect with her surroundings…they were still dismally uninspiring. A thick layer of dust coated everything from the tacky red carpet to the old movie posters. It also clung heavily to a glass candy counter, on which the newest addition to a long line of pains in her ass was perched.

Buffy tossed a glare at the wanna-be god, who seemed to be ignoring her in the artless pursuit of raiding the remaining candy stock. The silver creature had been babbling non-stop for the first ten minutes after Buffy regained consciousness. Then she'd discovered the snacks. Something about the unlikely vision added fuel to the slow burning fire of displacement churning in her gut and Buffy stopped in her tracks.  Crossing her arms, she jutted out her chin and cleared her throat. Loudly.

After a rather longing glance at the M and M's, the apparition turned her attention away from the candy and mumbled "What?" around a mouthful of jelly beans.

Momentarily content with the semblance of attention, Buffy decided to get some things off her chest. "So let me get this straight. You're some kind of liaison to the Powers of Whatever-"

"That be," was the rather prim interruption.

"Yeah uhuh," Buffy tossed back with all the cynicism of someone who'd been there, done that, bought the t-shirt.  "Anyway you're saying that when I died - What?!," she snapped at the completely noticeable shudder that wracked the being.

"We call it 'the incident'," she sniffed.

Buffy let loose a loud incredulous snort. "Well excuse me if my death and subsequent resurrection comes a little higher on my list of life altering events than the oh so catchy term of 'incident'."

One perfectly shaped silver eyebrow was arched in Buffy's direction. "Look, honey, your incredible pigheadedness caused a ton of hassle for us. Do you have any idea how much overtime we had to put in realigning all those prophecies? I missed at least three manicure appointments. Then you come back and we end up running around like idiots going 'oh no prophecy for you today'."

"Oh right. Sure. I can see the dilemma there. Those people must have been devastated. Seriously. After all, I know how much joy and comfort those prophecies always brought me in the past."

"Sarcasm is such an attractive feature in a young woman, don't you think?," she quipped, wagging her finger in Buffy's direction. "Well at least the prophecies gave some purpose to your life. Look at you now, running around without a clue as where to go or how to get there."

She's really beginning to piss me off, Buffy mused. Scratch that. This is me, officially pissed off. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The woman waved her fingers dismissively. "Oh please, you've been running around for the last year or so pulling that whole 'oh poor me, I got to come back from the dead and get another chance to live a wonderful life, someone just kill me'. Not to mention you're sudden penchant for vampire-shaped industrial strength vibrators."

Buffy's gaze unwillingly strayed to the vampire fast asleep on the floor between them, blissfully unaware. She choked out a reply. "That…I…wasn't…he…I really don't like you."

"Well you get on my nerves. But, goody for us, you're on my caseload so we're stuck with each other…at least until my promotion comes through."

"Caseload? Promotion? So you're what? Social worker to the Slayer?"

"In a manner of speaking. I have a department. A specialty. You don't think we're just running around willy-nilly making this stuff up do you? Here's my card."

Buffy stared at the little silver card that appeared in her hand. Squinting she read the elegant script.

Sage

Lessons of the heart division

"Of course how silly of me," Buffy said dryly. She crumpled the card tightly in her hand. "So, you're like, cupid or something?"

"Do I look like an annoyingly precious little twerp in diapers?"

Buffy barely bit back the urge to scream. After a few deep breaths, she tried for a calm tone. And failed miserably. "Just for fun, why don't you explain exactly what you're talking about, without all the cryptic crap."

"You know it's always the same with you humans. It's all just 'fix this', 'change that', 'explain the other'. You have no respect for the hours we put into our cases. The point here is, if I pull this off it's the last time I will ever have to get involved with your train wreck of a love life."

"My…hey!"

"Oh admit it. You're useless when it comes to men. I send you a perfectly nice boy and you send him running for the hills…helicopter, whatever."

Buffy was pacing again. This was not shaping up to be a good day. "I am not useless! I just haven't found the right-"

Apparently celestial beings aren't as infinitely patient as one might believe. Before Buffy could continue on her quest for self-preservation, Sage interrupted. "Give it up girl! There is no Mr. Perfect and right. The heart wants what the heart wants. There's passion and intensity and love and commitment. It's…messy. You're messy with messy emotions. Do you really think that some man is going to sort all that out for you and package it all up neat and tidy. Ain't gonna happen, sunshine. Grow up."

Buffy endeavored on her quest to nowhere. "I'm not going to just settle for-"

"Who said a damn thing about settling? Not me. Those are your words. Take a good look at that one, darlin. And while you're there let that part you keep trying to deny breathe a little. It's not about the dark or the light, Buffy. It's about you."

Buffy felt her knees give out and slumped to the floor. What about me. What's wrong with me that everyone can see and I can't ever quite grasp. Even Spike saw… With her mind once again centered on the comatose vampire something else occurred to Buffy. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at Sage. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that the Powers want me with another vampire."

 Sage almost choked on her tongue. "Oh hell no!," she spluttered.  It took more than a few minutes for her to compose herself before speech was possible. "However, they just don't know what to do with you."

"You should write for hallmark, you have such a way of making me feel all warm and fuzzy."

"There's that lovely sarcasm again. Have you ever thought about being treated for that?"

Buffy focused her gaze elsewhere,  rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows. She briefly wondering if Slayer headaches were more severe than the regular kind. There was a sensation tingling at the back of her mind. Something was missing here.  She was missing a pertinent piece of information and she wanted answers. Turning back to Sage, all questions evaporated in the wake of a sight that struck her dumb. "What the hell are you doing?"

Sage waved a hand at her freshly painted toenails. "Multi-tasking." Buffy just shook her head in disbelief. Really, what do you say to a silver person giving herself a pedicure?

Apparently quite able to ignore the Slayer's consternation, Sage pushed on. "Look, the facts are thus. I had a perfectly nice boy all picked out for you. Then with your little swan dive, I had to go and give him to someone else. So then you get mojoed back from the great beyond and before I can find a replacement, you go and take up with 'him'."

Buffy flinched at the rather disdainful finger Sage flicked in Spike's direction.

Sage continued. "So then, after some serious paper shuffling, we put all these new procedures in place, trying to make the best of things you know. And what do you do? Go and fuddle that all up too. Really girl, you need to make up your mind and stick to it."

"Sorry if my coming back from the grave and having my friends die didn't quite give the right air of romance to my actions. Besides, hello, evil, meant to kill not fu -," Buffy sputtered to a halt at a slight movement from Sage.  "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"Would you quit with all the evil soulless crap. It really starts to lose something after the hundredth time you say it."

"Well it's the truth!"

"Sure keep telling yourself that. It's worked so well for you in the past."

"Look - uhhh - lady, you have no idea what happened between me and Spike so-"

"I know more than you think girly. You're not a god. Quit with the complex. This is your time. Right now. Make the best of it."

"Time for what?"

"To figure out who you are and who's going to be with you when the world implodes again."

"I don't understand you. I don't understand this. I just want a straight answer. Like now."

"Would this be easier for you if we just sent a thousand year old parchment and made you spend weeks trying to decipher all the double talk?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. Actually now that you mention it…

"You've got big stuff coming. Sooner than we thought. You need to listen to your heart on this one. If you decide, really decide, that he isn't what you want then someone else will be sent. But don't you think he has earned some effort on your part?"

Buffy quickly skipped over some of the more guilt inducing statements and zeroed in on one she hoped she could handle.

"What's with all this sent stuff?"

Sage sighed in that distinct was people do when they are tired of explaining the obvious. "It took a lot of trial and error but we finally figured out that Slayers need someone. Someone that's theirs and theirs alone. A tie to the world kind of thing, someone to fight for. Being a human with the gifts you have means you walk a very fine line. It's very easy to slip off the path and let the power take over. We realized that you girls needed someone that could keep you stable. It used to be your Watchers but the times, they are a changing. "

"I have…had my friends for that."

"Did you? At first yes you did, but they moved on. Not away, mind you, but on. They each found someone else to be first in their hearts. You need someone who will see you as their center as much as they are yours."

"And you think Spike is my center? Buffy gaped incredulously.

"Well…you chose him. All on your own."

"Wonderful. Tell me…under freak in the dictionary, my picture is there isn't it?"

"Actually you just know yourself better than you think. Better than I did at any rate." She muttered the last to herself.

Buffy's head shot up as something else occurred to her. "Wait a second. Does that mean you picked Angel?"

Sage's skin turned a darker shade of silver, which Buffy realized was a blush. "Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't read the fine print."

"We are so not dealing with the ramifications of that one right now. But Spike…I don't…he tried to…he doesn't even know who I am anymore. He doesn't know what we did…" Buffy trailed off. It was too much.

"Not seeing the downside there." Sage smirked.

"I..I need to get out of here." Buffy rose and started moving pieces of ceiling that blocked them in all sides. Contemplating the wreckage she tossed a glance at Sage, who hadn't moved. "Aren't you going to help."

"And break a nail?" Was the horrified reply.

Rain slowly eased the comforter off her body and slid her feet to the floor. A quick glance back to reassure herself that Ian wasn't awake and she rose and crept quietly from their bedroom. Leaning back on the door, she opened her senses to explore the house for any preternatural beings other than her mate. Finding nothing, but erring on the side of caution, she tiptoed down the hall and paused in front of Tasha's room. Straightening her spine, she gently pushed at the partially open door. The room was empty. With a sigh of relief, she continued down the hallway. She had no idea where Tasha was this early and she really could have cared less, it was just after sunset and she had maybe an hour before Ian was awake. They had to get to Spike and Buffy before the seal on the building lost its power.

It took less than ten minutes to retrieve a small black leather pouch from its hiding place under the basement steps. Another five to arrange its contents on the kitchen table.  Staring at the motley arrangement of herbs, candles and scraps of paper, Rain drew in a long deep breath. The spell itself would take about half an hour, or at least it had the last time she'd performed it. Picking up a candle, she turned it slowly in her fingers, blinking at the moisture clinging to her lashes.

Just get it done, girl.

"It usually helps if you light it."

Rain let out a sharp high pitched squeal. "Jesus, Sam, don't do that!"

Sam smiled sheepishly and sat down across from her. Picking up a plastic bag of dark blue herbs, he sniffed at the contents.  "I've got a line on a great spell. This is the one. I can feel it."

Rain nodded and snatched the bag away from him. "Good. We need as much ammunition as we can get. I want as many tricks up my sleeve as possible when we see Cainen again."

"Don't worry. You're covered. With three vampires, a Slayer and the arsenal of spells I'm collecting for you, he won't know what hit him."

"Was that the crazy optimism thing all the kids are talking about these days?"

Sam threw her a wide grin and picked up one the pieces of paper, squinting at Rain's tight script. "Confidence is a weapon. What does this one do…?" Sam's voice trailed off as his quick brain began to decipher the Latin. "Rain! This is a spell for-"

She reached over and grabbed her notes. "I know what it is, Sam."

He stared at her, incredulous. "You're not going to …how long have you known how to do this?"

Avoiding his eyes, she started mixing ingredients in a small clay bowl she'd pulled from under the sink. "About seventy five years, give or take."

"But …why?," he spluttered.

Rain checked her watch and lit the candles. Time was running out. "Why what? Why didn't I use the reversal before or why am I doing it now?"

Sam leaned forward, the gravity of the situation echoing in his face and words. "Both."

"I have used the spell…once and then I cast it again…with a few minor changes."

"Changes? What-"

She held up a hand to stop his flow of words. "The original spell linked them to my mortal existence right."

Sam nodded but confusion was evident on his features.

Rain shook her head and muttered under her breath. "and this is the smart one." Putting aside the spell for a minute, Rain rubbed at her face. "The spell was based on my mortality.  My life span. I kept aging, they didn't. Every second that passed was bringing not only my death closer but Ian's as well. I had to do something."

"Why didn't you just leave the spell undone."

Tears once again gathered in Rain's eyes. "I couldn't lose him. I didn't think he'd stay without it."

"He loves you, more than I ever thought was possible. Humanly or otherwise."

"I know that…now. But then I was…well I did what I did. Can't change it now."

"You never told him."

Rain ducked her head, shamefaced. "No, I recast changing the wording a little so that I was linked to his immortal existence instead."

"But you're reversing it now."

"Ian is not going to die because of me. Do you understand that? He's not!"

"Okay I get that but, Rain," he said grabbing her shaking hands. "Maybe you had your reasons before but now is a different time. Don't you think with all you two mean to each other he deserves to choose for himself?"

She stared at the bundles spread out before her for a long tense moment. The last eighty odd years of her life flashed before her eyes in a kaleidoscope of events all featuring Ian at their center. She shoved the ingredients at Sam and dropped her face in her hands. Silence descended on the kitchen as Sam packed everything back into the pouch.

He stood and tucked them in his pocket,  awkwardly patting her shoulder he made his way out the door. His last words drifted softly across the room in the wake of his departure.

"Besides I couldn't see him not noticing a difference. That's gotta be a big change."

A slightly malicious grin spread across Rain's face as she spoke her thoughts aloud to the empty kitchen.

"Tasha never did."

Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end

Spike climbed the long hard road back to consciousness. Not that he had absolutely any desire to wake up. But it was just getting more and more difficult to ignore the hum of female voices and the slight clatter of heavy objects being moved. Rolling onto his side, he braced himself for the pull and pain of misused limbs. He was pleasantly surprised to discover all his parts seemed to be in perfect working order. Levering himself up to a slight leaning position, he forced open his eyes and surveyed the scene before him. The Slayer was pushing and shoving at a pile of debris that blocked what he supposed was the way out.

Good on her…could probably use some help…I'll be sure and let someone know.

Spike tumbled to his back and searched the ceiling for signs of a possible continuation of falling debris. Or more to the point, he lit a smoke and let his mind wander to more pleasant pursuits. A slight shiny gleam caught the edge of his vision and he forced his eyes to move that half an inch left to discover the source. Oh…balls.

"Tinkerbell." He nodded.

She was sitting on what had once been a snack counter, rooting through the smashed glass top. With a triumphant gleam in her eyes, she pulled her hand out with a flourish, producing a mitt full of candy. Ripping the top of a bag open, she returned Spike's nod. "William."

He sneered at the moniker and pushed reluctantly to his feet. "So what kind of nasty is about to come swooping out of the woodwork this time?"

"I'm not here for you…well not really."

Spike followed her line of vision and watched the Slayer for a moment. She was bent over, fighting with a large block of cement. He spent a good minute convincing himself that he was not in fact checking out her ass. Nor was he trying to determine the exact hand span it would take to cup one of those tightly curved cheeks. Shaking his head, Spike tossed the remainder of his cigarette to the ground and raised a brow to Sage.

Sage was engrossed in some head shaking of her own "You two are going to be the death of me yet."

A less than becoming smirk graced Spike's lips. "One can only hope."

Sage's eyebrows snapped together as she glared at the vampire. He could have sworn she stuck her tongue out as she faded from view. A low laugh emitted from his throat as he watched the last spark of silver drift from sight. "Always a pleasure," he muttered and turned to amble towards the Slayer.

She had apparently given up on the cement and was currently lifting a board that doubled her in height. A loud crunch permeated the air and Spike glanced down at the pieces of broken glass beneath his feet. Lifting his foot, he tried to discern if any had imbedded in his boot. Intent on his perusal, he didn't see Buffy jump at the sound of his approach. Nor did he see the board she held, swing with her momentum to look behind her. He did however catch the up close and personal approach when said board connected with his skull. He dropped like a stone.

With a hand plastered to a large gash in his forehead, Spike glared around the blood dripping into his eyes. "Bloody hell, woman! How many times in a day are you going to try to kill me? A ballpark figure will help out immensely."

Buffy dropped the board and scrambled to his side. "You're awake! Good…are you okay? Here," she said, reaching to move his hand away from the wound. "let me see."

Spike batted at her hands as they fluttered around his head. "Don't touch me, you'll probably end up ripping my soddin' head off."

She gave him the traditional 'all men are babies look' before redoubling her efforts. "It was an accident. Just let me-"

Spike pushed at her hands and when that proved futile, grabbed her shoulders and shoved. In the wake of his last and less than pure dream about her, he would rather swallow holy water than have her hands on any part of his body.  "You're the bloody accident, Slayer." The momentum of the push and unbalanced position all contributed to Buffy's rather inelegant sprawl to the floor. Lifting a hip, Buffy rubbed at her bottom and mumbled a pitiful 'ow'. Spike was mesmerized by the slight stroking motion of her hand. More than a few naughty fantasies erupted behind his eyes.

That's it. I'm burning my eyes out. If I can't see her then…wait a tick…

Buffy had started to pull herself to her feet when Spike's hand shot out and grabbed a firm hold of her leg. With a slight twist of Spike's wrist he got the desired result.  An indignant squeal of pain from the Slayer. Shoving his hand off her leg, Buffy began to rub the newest sore spot on her body. The place Spike had just pinched. Hard.

"I said it was an accident. You don't have to get all pinchy and…"

Spike's gaze had not strayed from her eyes since the 'experiment' had begun. So he knew the exact moment she understood what had just transpired. It was obvious from the crystal clear 'oh shit' look in her eyes. 

Spike's smirk turned malicious.

Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on, but didn't even know
Wasted it all just to watch you go
I kept everything inside and even though I tried,

it all fell apart

Buffy backed up on her hands doing what could be only be described as a crab walk. Holding her hand in front of her, she tried to ward off the vampire who was crawling towards her in a way that clearly screamed 'stalking'.  She had a brief moment to liken him to a panther and then he was pouncing. Buffy grabbed at his shoulders and shoved. It took all her considerable strength to manage the maneuver but she succeeded in flipping him over. Straddling his waist, she fought the urge to rest once she had reversed their positions. Power was emanating through the air and unfortunately none of it was hers.

Not now, her mind screamed

"This isn't what it looks like. You can't-"

"Can't what? Hurt you?" He had managed to free one side of his body from her struggling grasp and lifted his freed hand to bash her across the face. Stars exploded behind Buffy's eyes and Spike kept talking in that low menacing voice she hadn't witnessed in years. "Kill you? I beg to differ, luv. Looks like this is my coming out party. Complete with a Slayer-shaped goodie bag."

Buffy took the time to roll her eyes at the pitiful metaphor. "No you idiot, I meant that…" Buffy was drawing a blank. There was no way to explain this without explaining everything. Which was not a place or time she had any desire to revisit. Buffy said a silent prayer as she switched tactics. "You have to listen to me, Spike. This isn't you. You're… better than this… better than the chip."

For the first time in all their years spent together, Buffy actually got it. A touch of awe clouded her features as she stared at him. Spike. He had baited, berated, loved and worshiped her. He was…real. In her defense it was completely understandable that she momentarily forgot exactly who she was dealing with. Not her Spike. Not anymore. With a move that would have blindsided her on her best days Spike reversed their positions and slammed his weight down hard across her stomach. Smirking, he clamped one hand down firmly on her neck. She could do nothing but wriggle ineffectually and try to store enough air in her swiftly collapsing throat.

"You know, it's touching, really."

Buffy managed a frog-like "What?"

"This inane thing all you do-gooder types have. I mean really, like I give a bloody buggering fuck what you have to say. Better than the chip? Hardly. I haven't been able to so much as spit on a human in years, Slayer. Do you actually think some flowery speech from Miss Pureness and Light is going to talk me out of something I've been salivating over every bleedin moment since those buggers fucked with my head?

Buffy honestly didn't know how to answer that. She was trying to figure out the very same question.

"It's a chip, not a soul, Slayer. And if I'd stuck around after it happened, I would have found a way to kill you. Course wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying, not getting the blood on my hands, but make no mistake, Slayer, I would have found a way."

A lot of things came crashing down on Buffy at that moment but the thing that hit the top of the list was the simple fact that he was right. The chip had never stopped him from killing her. Not really. He had sent assassins after her before. Murder by proxy. Could have happened. Never did. There was only one thing that had stopped him. Buffy closed her eyes.

When all is said and done, epiphanies are highly overrated.

"Spike…"

 Spike tightened his crushing hold effectively cutting off any more sound. Bringing his other hand into play, he slowly traced a line up her cheek, across her temple and stopped at her forehead.  He tilted his head ever so slightly to the side in contemplation.  "Just what could possibly be spinning around in there?" He punctuated the question by tapping lightly on her forehead  "What do you think you could say to change the inevitable? To stop me." He stared at her for a few more moments and then shook his head deprecatingly. "In the end I'd probably just have to listen to some endless prattle about doing the right thing and that would undoubtedly bore me so…be a luv and let out a good long scream for old times sake."

In retrospect it probably wasn't the smartest Slayer move in her repertoire. Nor one she would ever be repeating if she was lucky. But as it was when his fangs came swooping towards her throat and his hand eased off her neck it was really the only thing she could think of. Buffy whipped her head swiftly to the side and smashed her mouth against his.

To find myself again
My walls are closing in
Without a sense of confidence

I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take
I've felt this way before
So insecure

Stunned did not even come close to describing the emotion Spike was feeling. Broad-sided by a semi would have been more accurate. But that wasn't actually an emotion. Rage, disgust, fear, shock, lust those were all apt descriptions but really that was only the tip of the iceberg. Not that it mattered at the moment because the only coherent thought he could claim was, The Slayer's tongue is in my mouth.

As kisses went, it was not going to go down in the history books. It was awkward, unexpected and just plain wrong. That in no way stopped him from tilting his head a little bit more to the side in a misguided effort to bring this lip lock to a level that would in fact be one for the archives.  Nor did the innate wrongness  prevent a slight moan from breaking out of his throat when he was treated to not only the smooth, fresh quality of her lips but also the spicy tinge of Slayer blood when she inadvertently sliced her tongue on his teeth. He could have quite easily stayed there forever. They were fused together from mouth to hip. Both scrambling wildly against each other to…win?…what?

Before his mind could delve too deeply into that, the Slayer broke their connection with a sharp intake of air to her starved lungs. Lifting his head, he stared dumbfounded into her eyes and sanity came crashing down around them.

He lifted his upper body slightly and let his eyes sear a trail down her torso. Running a finger along the edge of her top, he pulled slightly to reveal the slight swell of her chest. Dipping his head, he moved to run his tongue along the treasure he had uncovered. Just before contact could be made his brain finally righted his equilibrium.

Have you gone completely daft? She's the soddin Slayer!

Spike scrambled off her like he'd been burned. Crouching on the floor, he drove his fingers into his hair as if he could pull the last few moment from his mind. What the fuck is wrong with me? Kill the Slayer. Hurt the girl…

The last sent a fission of memory searing along him. Keeping his head down, he raised smirking eyes to her face. "Well, at least now I know for sure why Angelus left you."

He could admit that probably wasn't the smartest moment in his unlife but somebody had to bloody well say something.

The Slayer preferred to speak with her hands apparently. Before he could regroup, her fist was connecting with his nose and he pitched backwards towards the ground at an alarming rate.

He just lay there on the floor for a moment staring up her. She looked for all the world like death himself, come to deliver the final blow. Maybe she was.

"What the matter, luv. Truth hurt?"

He expected, at best, a few broken ribs but what he got was not coming into even the realm of possibility.

When she'd launched herself at him, his first instinct had been to grab her hips to push her off. Bad instinct. There was nowhere after that for his hands to go except to coast up her back and tangle in her hair. He was perfectly capable of lying to himself and saying he was planning on just yanking her head back. And he was almost certain he would asked what she meant when the words 'retro much' were breathed against his lips. But he was just in no shape to argue coherently  when he suddenly found himself yet again with a mouthful of Slayer tongue. 

He wrestled with her for six seconds. Exactly six. In that time he came up with approximately two hundred reasons why this was a very bad idea. And exactly one why it was a very good idea. Technically it wasn't his brain providing the latter. With a sound that registered somewhere between a growl and a moan, Spike promptly told his brain to sod off.

What it meant to me

will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter

Buffy hooked her hands behind his neck, tangling her fingers into the short hair there and pulled roughly on his head. The barely coherent idea that she would let her lungs explode before she let go this time skittered threw her mind. Oh she could lie to herself and say this was all about self-preservation…but it was so not.

She ran her bottom lip over the edge of his fangs, slicing her mouth deliberately this time. To give him another taste or ease her way. She couldn't say which. His mouth opened to catch the fallen drops and she knew it wasn't a conscious decision on his part. She didn't care. Using lips, teeth and tongue, as he had taught on those longs night he felt necessary to erase, she put her soul into that kiss. The soul she hadn't quite been able to decide lately if it was burden or commodity.

Spike groaned deep in his throat and pulled his head back. A last ditch effort to save himself no doubt. Well no one had saved her. He could burn up too.

"I don't bloody well want-"

Buffy scrambled blindly for his lips, trying to bury the words inside her mouth. A low moan emitted from his throat and for a moment he took charge of the kiss, mimicking her actions to combat the arsenal hers had become.

Just when she thought he had succumbed to the inevitable, Spike wrenched his head away and sprang to his feet. "I don't know what you think you're doing, Slayer but I can guaran-bloody-tee that I'm not going to play this game."

Buffy stared at the tightening in his jeans and ran her tongue slowly, deliberately, over her torn lip. "What game?," she said, innocence personified. Yeah right.

For a second she honestly thought he was going to try to hide himself, hide the effects they invariably had to each other, but then he seemed to collect himself. Dropping his hands to his sides and clenching them into fists, Spike stared her down with an intensity that scorched. "I've already been a substitute fuck for someone much more advanced, " he said, lip curling, just so, over tongue on the last. "than you. Can't say it was a gig I overly enjoyed."

Buffy planted her hands behind her and jutted out her chin. "Substitute? What?"

"Oh don't play the coy little girl with me. I may be a vampire and I may be low enough in body temperature for you to close your eyes and pretend, but I can guarantee I am nothing like your precious Angel"

"Angel." Buffy sighed. Sitting up, she slumped her shoulders and pressed her fingers against her forehead to still the sharp throb that had sprung up there. Or never left. Slowly she let her body relax. On a scale of good Buffy plans this one was scoring a minus infinity. She should have known better. You can't go back and hell why would I want to. This had to end. This thing they did. Kept doing. To each other. It had to end.

 "Yes Angel! You know, big prancing poofy love of your life."

Shoving to her feet, Buffy completely ignored the slightly more than pissed vampire pacing in front of her and started to tackle the wreckage again.

Center my ass. That's it. If I ever get out of here I'm becoming a nun.

Heaving a board onto her shoulder, she spoke in quiet, clipped tones. "Angel has nothing to do with this."

"Then what's it about, Slayer?" Spike yelled. Grabbing the board out of her hands, he threw it across the room and seized her by the shoulders, eyes narrowing into tiny points of black oblivion. "You that hard up? Fucking your enemies how you get your kinks these days?"

Buffy batted his hands away and then shoved him for good measure. "I am not hard up and I'm not the one looking for a substitute! Have you happened to glance at your girlfriend lately?! "

"You shut your mouth."

Buffy threw a board at his head. "Make me."

Spike ducked effortlessly and threw his hands in the air, at a complete and utter loss. "Has it yet to register that I can kill you. That I almost did. That is if you hadn't tried to pull that pathetic little seduce the vamp routine back there. Just wondering pet, how far would you have let that go to save your precious skin."

"Number one, Spike, the day you could kill me has yet to arrive. And second…You idiot!  You could always hurt me! Well not always, but recently. And before you go off looking to get your vampy jollies, it's just me. So keep your fangs to yourself unless you happen to enjoy the whole migraine dance." Buffy stared kicking at random bricks of concrete until something else occurred to her. Spinning back to face him, she grinned. "Actually, you know what? Scratch that, get out there and try to kill every single human you see. Have fun. Go on now. Shoo."

"Remind me to go tell the village where their idiot has been hiding. But before I do, you're going to tell me what the hell all this about even if I have to beat it out of you. Come to think…stall."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and contemplated her options.

Oh why the fuck not?

"You erased the last four years of your life."

Spike sputtered incoherently for a full thirty count and then sobered suddenly. "What color is the sky in your little world, Slayer?"

Buffy shrugged "Fine. Like I really care if you believe me."

Spike cast her a sympathetic smile. "That's right, you're supposed to humor the clinically insane. So tell me 'oh annoying one' what horrible fate befell me to make me want to screw… With. My. Own. Head?!" Spike's smile had dropped and his last words came out in something akin to a shriek.

She opened her mouth to spew forth a vicious diatribe full of endless accusations and fiery reprisals. She nearly sawed her tongue in half to stop the flow. The end, Buffy, the end. Instead, she took a deep breath made a mental goodbye to days of yore and said in a quiet clear voice, "You fell in love with me."

She wasn't sure what his reaction would be. Violence? Disbelief? An abrupt fall to his knees reaffirming his undying devotion? She was just warming to the possibility of the last when his actual words made her stomach cinch in rage.

"Yeah," he nodded, "that would do it."

Before she could rethink her previous moment of maturity,  Spike collapsed on the floor and was clutching at his stomach  with tears in his eyes. All of which was caused by the loud raucous laughter engulfing his frame. Struggling to his knees, he wiped at his face and tried to talk around the snickering "I…I would…never love you, Slayer." Spike slowly got himself under control and looked up at an extremely irate Buffy. "Never, Slayer. You…well not to put too fine a point on it. You, everything about you, from your shampoo commercial hair to your bloody calling, disgusts me."

Buffy moved with the pace of a cobra striking. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she and smashed her lips against his in a stunningly brutal kiss. Spike's world tilted at an unnatural angle and sparks flew under his eyes. As suddenly as it had begun he found himself sprawled on his back. An angry Slayer hovered over him shooting fire and damnation from her eyes. He winced as her voice shot into the air between them and imbedded in his spine. "Explain that!"

He opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong. To tell her he felt nothing. To tell her…Spike dropped his head and closed his eyes.

The dreams, the visions, the synchronicity of their fighting, the buggering turmoil in his heart, in his head.

He knew it was true, he could feel it. The sensation was almost like a dream locked deep into the corners of his mind. Barely tangible but constantly ticking away at him. Spike threw an arm over his head, over his eyes, to block her or himself he really couldn't say. He could  hear her moving around, still trying to get out. Ever the efficient little soldier  Flinging any thought of her away with a low growl, he willed his mind to go blank until only one thing could penetrate the self-induced fog.

 He was well and thoroughly fucked.

He had no idea how long he lay there. Didn't care. It was too much. He felt like he'd been in a lovely haze and someone had ripped the blinders off the very fabric of existence. He was finally where he had always wanted to be. He belonged. He fit. And she was taking it all away. Too much. It wasn't until he felt a small hand on his shoulder and a softly whispered "Spike?" that he opened his eyes. Staring at Rain's concerned face, he groaned out a quiet, "Stake me."

Sam sat back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head. The steady thrum of the printer accompanied his feeling of accomplishment. The last spell he had found was definitely the winner. He had never seen anything like it. If it worked all their worries would be over. He couldn't wait for the others to get home. The slight creaking of the door had him turning his head and a smile of welcome lit his features.

Five minutes later Tasha slipped into the passenger seat of a car idling in front of the manor.

"That was quick," Cainen said from the drivers side.

Tasha adjusted her seatbelt and smiled. "I don't screw around"

He nodded and locked speculating eyes on her. "You're sure they will find the invitation."

Tasha's grin grew much more malevolent in its intensity. "They aren't going to be able to miss it. Trust me." She calmly tossed a sheaf of computer paper in his lap.  "This was on the geeks printer."

Cainen took the pages and scanned the contents "Well this is very impressive. They might have actually had a chance with this." Shrugging, he tucked the sheets in his coat pocket before pulling into the street.  "Too bad."

The interior of the house was virtually silent in the wake of her departure. The only vague sound was a slight, harsh rattle of air signifying the last few gasps of breath from where a man lay dying.  The fine point of a kitchen knife imbedded in his heart.