Author's note: Sorry for taking so long on this one, kids. Thanks for your patience, and a huge kudos to my best friend Kelly (Dr. Tamwe here at FF.net) for playing muse on this chapter!

*~*~*

Flashback…

London, 1986

"This is it, Dru," Spike whispered sensually into his long-time paramour's ear. He pressed her close, sensing her eagerness through the filmy layers of her gown. "Tonight's the night everything changes for us."

Drusilla gave a low growl and nipped playfully at his earlobe. "Ooooh, my dear boy's brought me a new playmate! Ms. Edith has been flippant this afternoon, and shall have no games."

The bleached one gave her a seductive smile. "Let's not forget to share, pet. You can't have everything to yourself." He kissed her thoroughly, ignoring the scatter of corpses piled at their feet. Silly bodyguards, always getting in the way.

"Ready, baby?" He questioned in his best low, sexy tone. Together the two vampires burst through the dressing room door of their intended victim, a lethal force to be reckoned with, and ready to raise some…

"Oi!" A drunken voice slurred in surprise, "What the 'ell?!" Billy Idol wobbled to his feet, fingers hooked possessively around a wine bottle. He squinted at what appeared to be his own reflection, and the pouty brunette that accompanied it.

"Who the 'ell are you?"

"Hello Billy," Spike drawled silkily, a wicked grin spreading menacingly over his sharp features. "I'm Spike, and this is Drusilla. And we're here to make your every fantasy come to life. Or unlife, actually…"

The rock star gaped openly at Drusilla's low-cut bodice, disregarding Spike completely. "You here for the orgy, baby?"

Spike coughed, fighting back his impatience. "Something like that, mate. You see, we've taken a fancy to you and Dru an-"

"Dru, eh?" Billy sidled up to the raven-haired vampiress, tracing the outline of her lower lip as she squirmed with pleasure. "What about you, love? Fancy a shag?"

Drusilla grazed his finger with her tongue in a quick serpentine movement, dark eyes glittering with mischief. "Fancy a heart for my pocket and a new bonnet," she cocked her head to the side, birdlike. "Did you hear, my Spike? This naughty boy shall be our pet."

Spike felt his budding irritation shift to jilted rage. "Yes, princess, I've heard," he gave the pop idol a dark look, one that he hoped threatened violence. "And naughty pets should know their place." Billy seemed to interpret the intimidation correctly, and despite his stupor, reluctantly staggered back a few paces.

Content with his results, Spike continued. "As I was saying, we'd like to invite you into our little family, Billy. Together the three of us will infect this world like a dark plague; we'll ravage cities and watch them bleed. We'll drink until we're full and-" He halted mid-sentence. Billy Idol was swiftly pinching Drusilla in places that made Spike want to hang him by his own entrails.

"You're a strange bird, but you've got a perky little ass." Drusilla barked impishly at his, which the celebrity took as a sign of encouragement. "Why don't you ditch the prig, an' you an' me will have some real fun…"

"Now just one bloody minute!" Spike growled murderously, steering Drusilla away from the lewd advances of his rival, and shoving her hastily out the door. "Wait right there," he instructed curtly, before slamming it shut. Morphing into game face, he then rounded on Billy.

"Bugger!" The other stumbled backwards, terrified.

"Listen up, mate," he advised with a hiss, "This isn't about Dru, it's about you and me!" He felt his vampiric visage slipping, returning to normal, as his true feelings revealed themselves. "Ever since I first heard you sing that…ruddy song, I felt…felt like I never have before," he concluded sentimentally, sniffing a bit. "It's like you were singing just to me."

And then he did begin to sing, softly at first, but rising with emotion. "Tell me your troubles and doubts. Giving me everything inside and out, out. Love's strange, so real in the dark. Think of the tender things that we were working on. Slow change may pull us apart. I'll get us back together at heart, baby…" He gazed affectionately into his hero's intoxicated eyes. "Don't You Forget About Me. Don't Don't Don't Don't…Don't You Forget About Me."

Billy fidgeted awkwardly, doing little to conceal his growing alarm. "Yeah, that's a bloody good rendition," his grip seemed to tighten on the bottle. "Remind my assistant to give you some free passes…"

"Oh, Billy," Spike started forward, pleadingly. "You've got to understand-I never meant for this to happen…but, but we can be together forever. You, me, and Dru will make this world our playground! Nothing can stop us from having it all!"

"Help," the star squeaked ineffectively. "Need some help in here!"

The vampire drew closer, a desperate expression written all over his face. "Don't you understand? I…I love you."

At those frank, well-meant words, Billy Idol's lips seemed to twitch in a cruel smirk. "Oh really?" He inquired, in manner Spike considered most patronizing. "And do you know how many sodding people I hear that from every day? Every wanker wants a piece of Billy Idol-everybody wants something!" He spat angrily, flinging the wine bottle down. It broke at Spike's feet, sending a crimson spray splattering all over his jeans and trench coat.

"You love me, eh?" The embittered man questioned coarsely, giving his fan a filthy look. "Well, join the bloody fan club then! You want to dress just like me, be my little dark prince? Sod off! All you want is to get inside," he mockingly emphasized the last word, nearly reducing Spike to tears.

"Now get the 'ell outta my dressing room!"

*~*~*

The Present

The Summers' residence, 2003

"You're certain you don't remember anything about this supposed 'trigger'?" Giles asked again testily, "You might make this process easier on yourself by cooperating."

Spike shot him a glare. "Like I said, gramps, I don't bloody well know anything. All right? We done here?" He pulled impatiently at his chains, a distraction he enjoyed much more when he and Buffy were using it for bondage fun.

Buffy rushed to sit beside him, rubbing the vampire's ears sympathetically. "Yeah Giles, he can't remember anything. So we're pretty much done here." She patted Spike's knee lovingly, "You okay, pookie?"

Giles sighed wearily and plucked off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Willow, fetch the creepy goo."

"Creepy goo?" Spike blurted in disbelief; "you're kidding, right?"

"'Fraid not," Robin Wood interjected in a 'nyah, nyah' sort of way, looking awfully smug for someone with such a nancy-boy name. "Who knows Spike, maybe you might actually enjoy it." He and the vampire traded looks of mutual loathing.

Willow began to chant her mumbo jumbo as Giles pounded a wriggling playdough like substance into Spike's ears. It really tickled. He began to jerk wildly, snarling, violently struggling against his restraints.

"Hey, look at Spike!" Dawn bounced forward, her observation rewarded by a flying cot to the face.

"Nice shot!" Anya cheered him on, amused as usual, by the blood sport. "Throw something else!"

"Omigod!" Buffy wailed, grief-stricken over her ex-lover's current state. "Someone help him! And get Dawn out of my way!" She nudged her sister's unconscious form with her foot, moving her aside. "Spikey, are you okay? It's me, Buff-y."

Her friends watched with mixed looks of puzzlement and disgust as she rocked the vampire back and forth in her arms. "Poor Spike. Poor, poor baby. Let me just get you upstairs and into a warm bath." She moved to free him from his bonds, whispering soothing comforts and making kissy noises.

Wood muttered something under his breath as the slayer led the sullen vampire past him. Spike made extra sure to stick out his tongue on the way by.

"But Buffy," Giles protested with building frustration, "we're not finished here."

"Oh yes we are," she dismissed him haughtily. "Now shut it, you're already on my list."

The remaining Scoobies exchanged wary glances, and Kennedy grudgingly handed Anya five dollars.

"I knew this wouldn't work," Anya explained matter-a-factly off of their pointed looks. "What? I recognize profit when I see it."

Giles turned to follow them up the stairs, still troubled over Buffy's obsessive attachment to Spike. It was bordering on ridiculous the way she doted on him, a vicious and calculating killer. He made a note not to write her any more generous checks as they clearly lent a hand to Buffy's love trysts, evident by the conspicuous addition of chains to the basement. So vexed by his continually deteriorating relationship with his slayer, he hardly noticed Wood's lingering presence beside him.

"Hey, little boy," Wood coaxed suddenly in a low tone, "would you like some candy?" He paused, catching himself. "Er…I mean, Mr. Giles, I have a proposition for you."

"C-candy?" The Englishman perked up at this clever bribery, "How do you mean?"

The principal indicated that he come closer, adopting a mysterious tone. "Sure, I'll give you some if you do something for me."

"Such as?" Giles demanded, cautious all at once.

Wood plastered on an innocent expression. "Just take Buffy out to train and keep her there for as long as you can. I'm going to kill Spike because he is an evil creature of darkness and we both obviously hate him."

Giles frowned, his forehead crinkling with indecision. "That would be utterly deceptive of me. I could never betray Buffy's trust like that."

"What if I told you I was raised by a watcher much like yourself because my mother was murdered by the aforementioned fiend?" Wood continued self-righteously, pressing a candy bar into the other's hand. He had plenty of leftovers from this year's band fundraiser. "Besides, I know we both agree that Buffy doesn't need him around."

Giles stared down at the tasty treat, realization dawning suddenly. "Good Lord, you're Nikki Wood's son, even though I, as the most knowledgeable source on this show, should have figured that out by now!" He eagerly pocketed the chocolately goodness. "And as I've known you for nearly four episodes now, I can clearly ignore all of my other instincts and trust you implicitly."

"That's a good boy," Wood smiled with satisfaction, slipping back into the shadows to plot.

*~*~*

"So, why'd we come here again?" Spike eyed his surroundings with equal parts interest and suspicion. Wood sure was a right creepy bloke. He had transformed his small garage into a study of sorts, complete with brimming bookshelves, a desk, and computer.

The sulky principal headed determinedly towards his desk, fishing through one of the drawers. "For weapons…and, um candy," he supplied a brief answer and continued digging.

"Right." Spike acknowledged shortly, his discomfort rising. The other man maintained such a brooding intensity (not unlike that sop Angel, Spike noted grimly), and kept gazing shiftily over his shoulder at him. Hope he's not a poof, the brazen vampire reflected with an impatient sigh, 'cos I don't think I'm his nancy type.

"Remember, I like the kind with the little crunchy bits in 'em," Spike reminded him pointedly, reluctantly entering the dimly lit room. It was then that he was assaulted by the presence of what was easily a hundred different crosses, each ornate in its own right, nailed with zealous fervor to all four walls. And even stranger, was the random addition of multiple Teen Beat N*SYNC posters to the medley. Spike blanched in shock.

"Bloody hell…" he gasped, gaze flickering madly over the disturbing motif. "You like N*SYNC? I knew you were a great poofter!"

Wood glared at him from over the top of his steely brown orbs. "My um…niece is a big fan. It's for her…"

"Riiiiiiight," Spike sniffed smugly, arms folded over his chest in a purely mocking stance. He seemed to take notice of the crosses once more, his grin fading a bit. "What's with the religious paraphernalia?" He questioned doubtfully, "Tryin' to keep out the bogeyman or somethin'?"

"I'm Catholic."

"Explains a lot," the vampire muttered derisively in a low tone. "Look, we gonna be here long? We should meet back up with the others; check in with Buffy."

The one-time slayer's son located his iron knuckles and pulled them on, relishing the sweet taste of revenge. Or maybe it was the macaroni and cheese he'd had for lunch… He completed the ensemble by donning several heavy, Mr. T esque golden chains. Turning slowly, he faced Spike with a piercing stare.

"I'm not ready to leave just yet," Wood reached for the computer's mouse, clicking it swiftly. "Got something I think you should hear first." The machine whirred to life, an mp3 file springing into view.

"I'm not a giiiiirl…not yet a woman," Brittany Spears' digitally enhanced tinny voice poured seamlessly from the laptop's speakers.

Spike nearly snorted in his laughter. "God, sodding Brittany Spears too?"

Wood scowled fiercely and within seconds the song had ceased, instantaneously replaced by another, more…familiar tune.

"Tell me your troubles and doubts. Giving me everything inside and out, out. Love's strange, so real in the dark. Think of the tender things that we were working on. Slow change may pull us apart. I'll get us back together at heart, baby…"

Spike staggered backwards, glassy-eyed with surprise as a sea of unbidden memories flooded through him.

"Don't You Forget About Me. Don't Don't Don't Don't…Don't You Forget About Me."

The embittered man seemed to drink it all in with satisfaction as he drew closer, approaching the vampire with the predator ease of jungle cat. "Sound familiar?" He drawled, jeering. "Bring back memories of good times?"

"Oh Billy…" Spike whimpered, his unfocused gaze flickering blindly about him. "Why didn't you want me?"

Wood's dark eyes glittered with undiluted hatred as he bent to retrieve the paper sack at his feet. From its contents, he removed a box of Feria hair dye, color #461 Mahogany Sunrise. "I've been wanting to do this for a very long time."

*~*~*

"Do you know why we're here tonight, Buffy?" Giles inquired of his slayer sternly, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed her patrol.

She shot him a sideways glance. "Besides the whole killing vampires part?"

He cleared his throat, returning her sarcasm with his patented Giles stare of disapproval. "Do try to be serious, Buffy. Our situation is grave."

Buffy heaved an exaggerated sigh. Big time with the 'duh' there, Giles. "Fine. Please launch into your crabby dissection of my slayer skills."

The Englishman squared his shoulders, frowning. "We have little time for this immaturity. Your sexual appetites aside, I find your recent patterns of leadership most disturbing…"

"Sexual appetites?" She roared in disbelief, "Hypocrite much, Giles? You're the one who's macking on the potentials." His slayer smirked openly at him, hands on hips.

Giles' opened his mouth and then closed it, flummoxed. "There was no 'macking,' to speak of," he retorted, rather snippily. "And if you're referring to this 'Mary Sue'…" his gaze dropped away as he regarded his feet with embarrassment. "Well, it's as you said. She never seemed to have existed in the first place."

His head snapped back up and he met her gaze with a critical eye. "However, my interlude with her never placed anyone in jeopardy, which is more than I can say for you and Spike."

"Please," Buffy snorted unattractively. "Spike and I aren't having sex. He just wishes we were."

"That may be, but your obsessive attention to him continues to distract you from your mission. Moreover, so long as his trigger is still active, you are placing us all at risk."

The petite blonde eyed her elder with blatant animosity, wondering if he were merely jealous of the vampire's bitch status. "Whatever. You all just wish you looked as good in leather pants as he does."

Giles face openly reflected his wounded pride. "Why, that simply isn't fair. You've never even seen me in leather pants!" [Author's note: *swoon*]

Buffy paused to consider this, struggling to grasp the complex and puzzling concept that included her watcher and leather. After a long, uninterrupted appraisal of his tall frame (one that made Giles considerably uncomfortable), she shrugged indifferently.

"True," she pursed her lips in a perfect 'pity me' pout; her eyes going wide with unshed tears. "But I'm still mad at you! You left me and I've totally got abandonment issues, which justifies my permanent case of stupidity."

The vampires that had presently been sneaking up behind them had to agree. With the permanent stupidity part, anyway. Buffy thanked them for the validation, and then dispatched them with ease.

She observed her watcher coldly. "I think we're done here. I'm going home to see what Spike's doing."

Giles grimaced, prepared to resort to flat-out deception if necessary. Oh wait, that's what he was already doing! "Indeed…er, Buffy, look over there!" And Buffy did look, for a very long time. In fact, she flat out stared, allowing Giles the time he needed to mentally review his 'Surely, you understand this was for your own good' speech.

"I don't get it," the Slayer complained in a whiny tone. "What am I looking at? I mean, it's almost as if you were taking a ridiculously long time to teach me something. Long enough to keep me away from home and from…" Her eyes went wide with understanding, her mouth adopting a perfect 'oh' expression.

Giles shuffled uneasily; the gig was up. "Y-yes, well, imagine that."

"You're stalling me!" Buffy shouted an accusation, braining him with her stake. "What have you done to my poor muffin?!"

"Muffin?" Her watcher scowled at the strange term of endearment, and more specifically that it was aimed at Spike. "Buffy, surely you understand that there is a great deal at stake here. This is a war, and you are its General. There will be casualties and you're going to have to learn to pick and choose your batt-" His last, carefully rehearsed sentence was cut off as Buffy rendered him unconscious.

*~*~*

As the song's chorus rang in his ears, Spike felt himself losing control, his primal self rapidly taking over. He slipped into game face, a ferocious snarl loosing itself from his curled lips.

"Good," Wood nodded with a grim smile. "I was hoping you'd put up a fight." He advanced threateningly, and caught Spike under the chin with a fierce jab. "What's the matter, you don't like Billy Idol? I thought you were that kind of rebel, Spike." Another merciless punch.

Spike reeled from the impact, and then launched himself at his attacker. The other aimed a sharp kick at his middle.

"C'mon Spike, I thought there was more to you than that. Aren't you tough? Aren't you just like your hero, Billy?" Wood slapped him silly and then mussed his fried blonde hair. "You weren't good enough, were you? You still aren't."

The vampire grunted in pain as another assault sent him doubling over. "Billy…"

"That's right," Wood continued with a self-righteous air, "he didn't want you. None of us do. Do you know why? Because you're a cheap knock-off, Spike-a murdering fiend. You killed my mother and when I'm done with you, I'll make sure you never look like your beloved Billy again."

His demoralizing words had just the opposite effect he was hoping for. Spike grabbed him about the neck and held him up in the air, his game face vanishing. "I'm my own man now," he hissed, his grip tightening. Wood sputtered for air. "Not Billy's bitch anymore. Not anyone's." He flung the principal across the room, sending him crashing against the wall.

"Billy may have turned me down, mate, but at least had the balls to try. I'll bet your nancy-boy fan mail never even reached those Boy Band gits." He plucked the box of hair dye from the floor and pelted it at Wood's forehead. The principal bent his head in shame, sobbing.

"Seeing as I killed your sorry mum an' all, I'll let you live. But if you so much as look at my hair the wrong way again…" Spike's eyes burned with murderous intent, "I'll kill you."

*~*~*

After finally regaining consciousness, Giles returned to a strangely quiet house. The potentials wisely avoided him and even Willow and Xander could scarce look him in the eye. Buffy had made her wishes known to all. With duct tape. The lines were crooked, but he could see clearly where Buffy had drawn her boundaries. As punishment for his interference with Spike, Giles was now only granted access to the kitchen and living room. All other rooms in the Summer's residence, including both bathrooms, were off limits by penalty of violent throttling. Thank heavens there was a gas station not far down the road…

His slayer had also apparently chosen to title him as 'He who shall not be named because He sucks.' The Englishman sighed, flopping down onto the Summer's aged sofa. It could have been worse, he reminded himself soundly, feigning a positive attitude. She's hated me plenty of times before. Absentmindedly, he dug in his jacket pocket for a handkerchief to clean his glasses with, but found instead the candy bar Wood had used to bribe him with.

Giles regarded it sadly. Well, at least I still have this. He tore at the wrapper and half-heartedly took a bite, attempting to relish the sweet harmony of peanuts and milk chocolate. Somehow it tasted…familiar. Chewing thoughtfully, he tried to place the memory. It was a bloody good candy bar. He wondered idly if Wood had any more…

To be continued…

*~*~*

More bashing on the way! "Dirty Girls" is next, and don't you think it'd be more fun if Ripper made an appearance? Mmm…band candy.