"Away" by Laura Blaurosen

=====CHAPTER ONE=====

If I had to say when I first admitted to myself what was going on, you'd probably laugh at me.

Like I didn't really know what was happening.

I could hear it. Dawn would refer to it.

But where was I? Meditating. Reading. Taking a late night stroll.

I guess when he said "the Slayer and her boy" I should have made myself pay closer attention.

I'm sure nothing was going on then. Nothing, you know, 'sexual', anyway. But eventually it did, and I chose not to pay attention.

Yes, I'm over him. I mean, over him in the sense that I'm not the least bit attracted to him sexually anymore. But maybe I'm not so over him in the sense that I still don't want anyone else to have him.

It's funny the way Buffy and I broach the subject. Or don't, exactly. It's totally laughable. It's not that she's hiding anything, but I think she knows I don't really care to know. And I'm not sure she feels like there's a reason to talk about it.

He sleeps here. (Yes, of course in her bedroom.) He makes breakfast. (When did he learn to cook like that? Yum.) He makes sure Dawn's doing her homework and he takes the both of them to school. They never kiss though. Not outside the room, anyway.

Maybe it's because of this "looming danger." Maybe she feels she ought to really let go and give a normal relationship a try. I think she thinks that her days are numbered. Whatever the heck it is, it's really getting...weird.

Listen to me, talking about this like I'm some kind of wise human behaviorist. All in all, I don't think either of them is really happy, or even passionate about one another. It's like it's the only thing that they can think to do anymore.

And I really honestly don't care. Really I don't. Really. I just wish I knew how to talk to them about how I just think it's weird. But I've used up the brutally honest allowances. They'd never take how I feel about this seriously. They'd tell me I was overreacting. That I'm missing Tara. That I'm looking at it with clouded perspective.

All I'm completely certain of now is that next time I fall in love, it's going to be really real. Okay, so what do I mean by that exactly? Well, I guess I mean it's going to be passionate. And it's going to be beautiful. And ugly. And painful. And exciting. And okay, sometimes it can be boring.

But this time I'm going to embrace it all.

=======================

Okay, so you know how I was saying I was taking those late night walks to you know, aid in my acceptance of what's going on in that bedroom down the hall?

Well one night I walked all the way to the new school. (Yes, it's totally dangerous to go at night by myself, but I'm a witch, remember? I can probably take care of myself...) That's at least what I was thinking when I willed the locked door open and walked right in to the quiet, desolate building.

You know what's weird about an empty school? It's similar to like, an old, old house, even if the school is brand-new. So many people inhabit a school during the day, with all kinds of stuff on their minds and things to do and feelings to feel, stresses and excitements, and well, it creates this whole big conglomeration of people energy that just stays behind long after everyone's gone home. The building stands there, alone, holding the warmness left over from all that activity. That's all it has until all the bodies return to replenish it again.

So there I am, thinking deeply about a dark empty school when I hear him. Not out loud, but in my head.

"No, we're not going to help you anymore. No, no, no. Got to put a foot down before you put YOUR foot in the door."

Okay, so what I was talking about before, I wasn't being completely honest as to why I came here.

I wanted to know why. He'd always been a bit unstable. I mean.it doesn't completely surprise me that he couldn't keep up that adamantly evil facade indefinitely. Plus all those years he spent toting his insane girlfriend around, well; it just didn't seem an unlikely event. I just wanted to know why he'd gotten so...slovenly.

"Um...Hell...hello?"

I opened the basement door and took one step down, but kept my arm outstretched to prop the door open. I couldn't find a light switch, but luckily I'd brought my trusty flashlight. True, the battery was like, totally wearing out, but it helped keep me from totally falling down the steps when I finally had the courage to let the door shut.

When I was eight, I always wished I could have an adventure like Nancy Drew. Have hidden staircases to explore and find the loose brick where the key or the diamond ring had been stashed. It's so funny how at this point in my life, what I was doing now didn't even phaseme. And so completely sad.

So, just as I was thinking this, something big and black scurried across the floor that made my heart fly toward my throat. Well, it didn't really 'scurry' per se; it was more of a noisy hustle.

"Hoh, shit!" I gasped. I'd been swearing a whole lot more lately. I'm not really sure why. "Is that you?"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! Little children must be quiet/When to Holy Church they go/ They must sit with serious faces/Must not play or whisper low," he sang.

I guess some old hymn or something, I dunno. Christian music is so much more sing songier than the stuff I had to sing as a kid. And in English.

Anyway, I have to admit then I started to get that creeped-out feel that kinda starts in your legs and made me really need to pee.

I tried whispering, hoping that wouldn't offend. "Is this church?"

"Church?" he said in a booming voice. "Church? Yeah, right!"

He cackled so loud I could feel his voice reverberate in MY head and the creep factor just kept on rising.

So guess what I did?

I went the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Welcome, dear witchy woman. You're certainly welcome down here."

"Uh, sure...sure." I said.

I must have been looking at him weird because he immediately said, "You're afraid of me."

I started to say no, (because really, I honestly wasn't) but then I remembered when he was first chipped, that was a huge issue for him, so I thought it best to just not say anything at all.

"No, of course you aren't. You've tried to destroy the world. All he's done is suck blood from human bodies in order to survive. She's afraid of me, though."

She is Buffy, I think. If he only knew...

"No, she's not either," I ventured.

He cackled again. Then he was totally silent for a minute, before the song picked up again.

"For the Church is GOD'S Own Temple, Where men go for praise and prayer, And the Great God will not love them Who forget His presence there."

Finally my eyes had adjusted to the dark and even though the flashlight had already lost its juice, I spotted him. He was on the floor, rocking forward and backward. Alternately he would sing and hum, um, sorta. It was this weird moany sound that reminded me of a picture book and tape Xander had when we were little of Dickens' A Christmas Carol. It was the noise the reader used for Jacob Marley's ghostie moaning. Scared me to death every time. All Spike needed were some actual chains to rattle.

"Don't go. If you're not afraid, stay with me."

He grabbed my hand from totally out of nowhere and pulled me to the floor so hard it hurt my butt when I landed.

"There," he said to me and I got a whiff of his stinky breath. "You're a nice girl." It smelled like an old shoe. I'd never noticed that before and I wondered if that meant he was sick.

It was nice to hear a compliment like that, though. No one had really said anything like that to me since I'd gotten back. Not where it sounded, you know, really sincere. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. He's insane.

But what did Emily Dickenson write? Much madness is divinest sense to a discerning eye? Something like that, anyway.

So then I was really not sure what I was supposed to do because he put his head on my shoulder and proceeded to fall asleep! I mean, REALLY asleep sleeping. And you know, he's a vampire, so it was like having a piece of lumber leaning on you. Well I guess it was softer than lumber. And lumber doesn't look as sweet and peaceful as he did. Even if he was stinky

Eventually I DID leave 'cause he was NOT waking up. I considered shaking him awake, just to make sure he was still, like, undead, but I didn't wanna know. And I needed to get home.

=====CHAPTER TWO====

I woke up to Xander calling my name from downstairs. I still had my clothes on so I quick changed my shirt, 'cause well, that wasn't a conversation I had the energy to make up after what? Four hours of sleep?

"You up?" He asked from behind the door. "It's 7:30 and the letter says registration runs from 8:00 to 10:30."

Thanks, Dad, is what I felt like saying. With each day, this was getting harder to deal with. It's so totally true, you CAN'T go home again. I never really understood what the hell that meant until now.

"Um....yeah...uh..." I was looking at myself in the mirror, trying to focus my....anything. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Come on," he said through the door. "I can take you in there, I'm going in late today."

I didn't think just then was the appropriate time to tell him I wasn't really sure about this going back to school thing, (not to mention his butting into my life) so I pinched some color into my cheeks and grabbed my purse, hoping that I'd remembered to put my I.D. stuff back in it.

In the car, Dawn was yammering on about some boy or other and I nodded and tried to make it look like I was paying attention. I was ever so thankful when Buffy piped in and commenced a bickering session. I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew Xander was waking me up. We were at the college.

"I'll just, go get some coffee and a donut, or dry flaky pastry as the case may be, and wait for you right here," he assured me.

I wanted to tell him he needed to forgo the pastry, but I stopped myself from saying it because I knew I was way too tired to make it come out sounding right.

So instead I insisted he just go to work. "It's gonna take me forever, I'm sure, and they're probably going to make me go to Academic Advising because of missing a semester and all the incompletes and figuring out where I stand and..."

I was babbling, even though it wasn't probably an untruth. I was probably going to have to endure all of those things I was saying if I went to registration.

If I went. That's where the lie was.

"Yeah, okay....Okay, okay, Will, I got ya," he interrupted me finally. Being exhausted sometimes is a nice out. It's along the lines of telling someone you have a headache. What, are they gonna argue with you? Otherwise he would have totally been thinking something was up with me. He gave me a coffee mug once that said World's Lousiest Liar.

"Here's some cash for the train. I'll be home early tonight. I'm making beef stew."

Thanks, Dad.

========

I stood on the campus, looking at the sea of bodies coming in and out of the Admin building. It wasn't quite the nuttiness of first semester where you've got a ton of lost freshmen holding things up, but it was enough to make ME feel completely lost.

And alone. I was completely alone.

Like an old lady whose friends had all died and she was the only one left.

Well, of COURSE I recognized people here and there. A few of them even waved and stopped for a superficial hello-how-are-you. But for the first time I realized I had no real friends on campus. I'd spent two years here with either my nose in a book or my nose in...well, Tara. Plus all the craziness of being the Slayer's best friend. And getting lost in Magic.

I was just Willow again.

I said it out loud and I felt that all too familiar lump crawl up my windpipe. Before I knew it, water was burning my eyes and a sob came out of me. I ran to a less crowded building where I knew of this little-used washroom on the campus. I leaned on the door and let myself have a good sob or two.

Wasn't even something I could fix with even with magic; that was the thing...

===============

Two hours later I found myself in the Nursing School building. I feigned an interest in changing my major and got an impromptu tour. It was pretty cool, actually! They had this huge building all to themselves and all kinds of neat labs and stuff. I had never been there before.

It made me really wonder if maybe that was something I'd like to do...but, back to my real, more nefarious reason to be there. Blood drive. They were keeping what they'd collected during registration in this building.

I ducked into a bathroom and waited awhile. While I was there, I did take a look at myself in the mirror and for one, I looked like crapola. I wondered what the Prof had thought when I came to her looking like death warmed over. And, I did ask myself what the hell I thought I was doing. "I'm going to steal some blood," I said into the mirror.

But by that time I was just on some kinda weird, lack of sleep-induced autopilot.

========================

I got home at about 4:30 and Xander was already there, making the house smell like potatoes. I groaned and flew up the stairs before he could see me.

My heart sunk to my knees when I heard his voice. "Hey Will?! S'at you?"

When I came back downstairs and into the kitchen I saw he had fresh coffee made. I sat down at the breakfast bar and almost asked him if he was still made of flesh and blood. Not only was this a weird family unit I was a part of, Xander was starting to remind me of Mrs. Summers' robotic fiance.

"Big day?" he asked me and wiped his hands on the blue and white checkered apron he was wearing.

"Wizard of Oz..." I mumbled into my coffee cup.

"Will?"

I shook my head and smiled. "The apron, it's like Dorothy's dress," I said.

He smiled a goofy Xander smile and it warmed me slightly. "Right. I off'ed her while you were out and buried her in the backyard. And her little dog too. Had just enough time to whip this up with the fabric from her dress."

I laughed and felt sleepy tears threaten to creep up again, but I was with it enough to keep it at bay. "Xander, I uh..."

I trailed off. Do I tell him I didn't register? I thought. When did it seem like, scary, to tell my best friend my biggest fears?

"Yeah, I "uh" a lot, too, but I'm trying to cut back, you know?"

I laughed and he sat down next to me and drank from his own coffee cup. Suddenly I felt okay. It was okay and I was gonna tell him. And ask him about Spike too. And then it would be all out there in the open and we'd all be on the same page and equal and stuff.

"...and so then I told Janice and Therese to like, go to the library and check it out for themselves and they were like, so totally amazed, Buffy!"

The Summers were home.

"Mmmmm, smells good in here," Buffy said and sorta craned her neck, like, toward Xander in this pseudo hello kiss move or something.

So this is what I said, instead: "Are we eating in the dining room or in front of the TV tonight?"

=======

Every day I think I'm going to get up and go to the school, but I don't. Some days I even get into the car and drive in that general direction, but as I get closer, I just start to cry.

So I started to think it might be time to think about counseling. Counseling = CounselOR, which is sorta what Buffy is right now, so I was thinking maybe I should start with her. I mean, I really should have told her what was going on with me, and could have, on several girl talk occasions, but it always slipped away, the opportunities. Or maybe I let them.

Anyway, so I went to the school. And then I walked by that door again. The basement one.

I stood there.

I had been there four more times since that first night. Each time it was more of the same. Apparently there are "people" down there with him, bothering him. That's about all I could get out of him. On my third visit, it occurred to me maybe he was you know, TRAPPED or something, so I suggested that we go upstairs at least. I dunno what happened, but when we, well when *I* got to the top of the stairs, I turned and he was totally gone. The fourth time, I couldn't find him at all and I didn't stay long on account of major time creepies I had. I don't think he's all that crazy, 'cause even I felt like I was hearing other people down there.

I checked the hall clock. 11:54. The bell would ring any second, and thousands of students would pour into the halls shortly.

I looked at the door again. Maybe the other night didn't really happen, I thought to myself. Maybe it was a.non-reality type thing.

Then I heard, click-click, click-click, click-click, click-click.

Someone was coming. In high heels. A woman. What if it was Buffy?

I opened the door and practically dove down the stairway. Then suddenly I felt like I jumped into a Degas painting, floating down the steps. I started to yelp, then felt a cold hand on my mouth.

"Shhhhhh.little children MUST be QUIET."

I said, "Mmmmm!"

"There are far too many down here right as it stands. You shouldn't come here," he said.

"Mmmm!" I said again. Well, I was actually trying to say "Spike", but he had such a tight grip on my face, I couldn't even muffle it. Trying a different route, I thought the words, "Spike, I'm here to help you," in my head, hoping he could handle.

"Help ME?" He said and let go of my mouth finally, setting me back on solid ground. He snorted and wandered off into the darkness a bit. "She wants to help me.do you hear that?" he said to up toward the sky.

"Y-yeah." I answered even if he wasn't really talking to me. "Look, it -it's overcast today. You could go right now," I suggested. "I.I think maybe you should go now.

He ran back toward me and his face was full of terror and sadness. "DON'T YOU GET IT???????"

I shook my head slowly.

He collapsed to the floor and held my legs. "I've no place to go."

==============

So this is what we did:

After we booked out of the school during a passing period, I took him to the only good place I could think of.

Xander's place.

I can't remember the last time he spent a night there. I keep meaning to ask him why he bothers to keep the place at all, if he doesn't really even live there anymore, but that would mean having the other conversation. I'm not really ready for that.

So at any rate, I figured it was the best place for Spike to recover in. And I was totally right; as soon as he got to my car he was a totally different Spike. He was playing with the radio and even noticed how the Citgo had changed to a Mobil.

"Hope they didn't raise the price on fags," was all he said the whole trip. Took me a minute to realize that shouldn't have offended me.

When we got to the apartment I suggested he go into the bathroom and get cleaned up if he wanted to, and I left to get him some blood. When I came back, he was still in the bathroom.

I heated up a cup for him and like a total dummy barged right into the bathroom. Nope, no knocking. So it was my own fault when I found him sitting on the toilet looking through a stack of girlie magazines.

I closed my eyes before I could make out anything else and crouched down, setting the mug of blood on the floor. "S-sorry, I.didn't mean to.I'm gonna just leave this here and go.watch TV, so you can.whatever.

I heard him go "Huh?" as I shut the door, so I assured him I wasn't gonna bother him anymore.

"No, Willow! Wait, I was just.reading!! You don't have to go."

Slowly I pushed the door back open, so happy to see he was indeed, just reading. "There are things to actually read in those magazines?"

He smiled in a way that calmed a bazillion fears I'd been having about bringing him here. The whole way back from getting the blood I was wondering if I'd come back and he'd have trashed the place or was gonna attack me for no apparent reason. But he looked so.well, sane.

"You ARE all alone in here, right? I mean, no more voices?"

He smiled again and this time it made me feel strangely warm. "No, not many." He pointed to his head. "'Cept for the ones in here."

I sat down on the edge of the tub. "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still Spike, then, I mean.when," I started to ask him about what was going on inside of him when he was down on that basement, but stopped myself. "Nevermind. You're probably not really ready to like, talk about.any.stuff."

I had a ton of questions for him, all swimming around in my head, ready to be spit out like lottery cards from those machines in the grocery stores. Like, what about you and Buffy, and Anya, and what you tried to do to Buffy, and how do you know what I tried to do to the world. It just wasn't probably time yet.

"I brought you some.some blood. I warmed it up, but you might wanna wait a second because I think I probably got it too hot. I probably should get back home.I'm sure you'll be fine.I'll leave you my cell number you can call me if you need to and I'll come back tomorrow and this way you can relax and clean up and drink.blood and relax and all that kind of.stuff."

I wish there was a spell that could make me not do that.

"You're gonna leave?" he said, and it almost sounded vaguely whiny to me. "What if Xander comes back?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, he hasn't slept here for weeks, at least since I got back from England anyway, he usually sleeps over with Buffy." It wasn't until an instant after I said it that I realized what a totally dumb thing that was to say to him. "Oh..crap," was my follow up. "Oh, Spike, I. I am SO sorry, that was."

He was shaking and biting the inside of his cheek. He swallowed hard and threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling. I could tell he was totally trying not to cry. "So, well, um.how long has um, this been..going on?"

"I think since the summer, I think. While I was in England, I guess." I put my hand on his back.

"Well," he sniffled and chuckled. "Well, that's.good.Good for her. Good she found someone."

I wasn't so sure I agreed with that sentiment, but I don't think either one of us is ready to talk about what it all meant.

"Are you okay? Do you need a hug or something?" I offered stupidly.

"No," he said, picking at invisible lint on his jeans. "I think I probably stink."

He was right, he did. "Oh, I didn't notice."

We both sat there a moment quietly and I realized I'd probably made a bigger mess of things for Spike than the mess he'd been in being in the basement. "Listen, I'm gonna skeedaddle so you can, clean up and stuff. And I'm gonna leave that number and I'll be back first thing in the morning."

He turned and looked at me with that panicky terror face he had in the basement. Then he nodded "Yeah, I'm sure you've got.stuff. Don't wish to keep you."

"Yeah I've got lots of.stuff." Suddenly I didn't wanna go back home at all. I was supposed to be in school anyway. "You know what, Spike, I think I'm gonna relax on the couch a bit, watch a movie."

His face lit up immediately. "Great! I'll um, see what I can do about the stench while you do that."

============

You know how sometimes you'll watch a movie for the ten thousandth time, and you could recite the dialogue right along with them, and you know the story, how it's going to turn out, and all of the emotions that go along with the movie, and the movie could be something as silly and stupid as Sixteen Candles, but you still cry anyway? The being forgotten about though.always been sorta a sore spot for me.

Spike was in the bathroom for the entire duration of the movie, and I only heard the drain being pulled just as Molly Ringwald was having that sweet talk with her movie dad. The door clicked open, but I didn't see him emerge for a few moments. I wondered if it was 'cause he was feeling self-conscious about the clothes I'd picked out for him to wear. Xander is considerably bigger than Spike is, and all that was really left over clothes-wise here was an XXL blue sweatshirt and grey XL bottoms, but fortunately those were drawstring.

Soon enough, though, he was sitting next to me on the couch, putting his big bare feet up on the coffee table. I wiped my drippy eyes and took the last sip of the beer, which had taken me the entire duration of the movie to drink, and I never took my eyes away from the screen.

"You like Molly Ringwald?" he asked me in a small, soft, non-Spike-like voice.

"Um, huh? Y-yeah," I said stupidly and sniffled.

"Need a tissue?"

"No, m'fine," I wiped my nose on my sleeve and cleared my throat. "She's kinda princessy, though . I always liked Ally Sheedy better, or Winona Ryder."

"Yeah, she was that way in this one. I dunno, depends on the movie," he went on, like we were about to begin some big intellectual discussion or something. "I liked her in Pretty in Pink. She was dumb, though, Duckey was cool."

By now the movie had ended and the room was even darker because the credits were through and the TV had gone all black. I got up and got two more beers.

"Yeah but, she didn't think of him that way, you know. It's sorta hard to make yourself get all hot and bothered over your brother."

I handed him the bottle. "Not that hard apparently..." he said and took a humongous swig.

I flopped down into the chair and sighed heavily. "Did you ever have one of those dreams about say, a TV show you watch-like a soap or something-and suddenly you're in it. And you think oh cool, this is a life I enjoy watching, so I'd fit right in but in the dream you're constantly aware of how you don't really belong?"

"I think that dream is otherwise known as my life." He sucked down the rest of the bottle alarmingly. "But, yeah"

I took a more modest sip. "I know the lines to say, and how to act, but the why is sorta...not there right now."

"I think I've actually had the opposite problem. I'm good with the why, but knowing what to say and how to act...never really my thing."

We sat in the dark and silence for what was probably less than a minute, but felt like five. Finally I felt like I had to break it. So, as is my specialty, I said something really silly. "Life's a funny thing, huh? Like, you know, two days ago you were singing creepy hymns to me."

"See what I mean?"

"Well I kinda think your time in the basement was an exception to the life rules."

He shook his head. "Not really. S'all part of the pattern. Even this thing with Xander...it makes perfect sense really, I should've known."

I almost asked him why, but I glossed over it in favor of "You and Buffy, you.you just weren't well suited."

"Guess that's one way of looking at it. In any case, it was pretty much sealed in fate when I went and got this stupid soul that she'd end up with someone else."

I decided that moment that I needed to stop the beer drinking because I was starting to feel worse by the moment. Then it hit me what he'd just said.

"Wait, what?? Stupid *shoe* soles?"

"Shoe soles?"

"What did you go out and get for Buffy?" It couldn't be true, the thought I had in my mind.

"Oh.she didn't tell you."

It was what I had in mind.

"Um, just a...uh, soul."

"A soul. A real soul." I wondered if he could hear my heart start to race. "Honest to goodness? Or. evilness?"

"Um, well, yeah, unless I got a bum one. Which would also sort of make sense."

"Well," I said, again, stupidly. "Well, whoa. This.this changes.things.somehow."

"It does?" he asked, looking a little freaked out.

But now that I said it, I wasn't quite sure. "Well I think it does."

"Well, that was sorta my point...nothing ever really changes."

"Well it should." Shouldn't it? "I mean. Well I guess it doesn't for me either. I still wanna help you."

For a moment, I half expected one of the witches from the coven, or Giles, or that dorky guy I met from the Watchers' Academy to arrive on the scene and argue with me again about the whole souled vampire issue. (That was quite an experience; I'll have to tell him about that sometime.) But the more I thought about this whole thing, the less it seemed to matter.

"Well, you have been," he pointed out.

"Yeah, soul or no!" I exclaimed, as though they WERE listening to me. "And you've tried to kill me at least twice!"

"Sorry about that."

"Really? Thanks, that's sweet. Though you really shouldn't apologize, I mean, you were just doing what your kind do. Right? Anyway, hey are you hungry? Wanna order something bad and greasy? We could eat it on Xander's bed, make a big stain on the blankets."

I looked up at him and he looked perplexed for a moment or two. Then he smirked and gave me this look, this thing with a raised eyebrow that was slightly unnerving, as he replied, "Yeah. Sure. Maybe I can manage to spill some ketchup on this ugly sweatshirt."

"You look comfy," I told him.

=========

When the food came (4 bags of every deep-fried item that Mannini's offered on their take out menu, boy did my tummy protest that the next day.) I said, "C'mon, let's go watch Conan O'Brien in his room."

"Conan O'Brien?"

"Yeah! He's a cutie patootie."

"Conan O'Brien?"

Why did he keep saying that? I know I'm gay, but I still think he's a cute little Irish Boy. I love that he laughs at his insecurities.

"You're a strange girl," he said.

"Yeah well you're a vampire with a soul."

=========

Conan proved to be sorta boring that night, and I don't think that Spike was as into him as I was. He started poking around in Xander's closet, apparently entertaining himself a great deal. He kept muttering things in there and laughing. I hoped he wasn't going nutty again, so I thought maybe I should try and draw him outta there.

"Hey, Spike, um.watcha doin' in there? Pierce Brosnan is on next."

Okay, I have to preface this next bit by saying that the both of us were a bit, toasty, if you know what I mean.

So Spike came out dressed in a short silky purple robe, his white legs practically glowing in the dark. "Xaandeerr, why do you look at naked lady pictures when I'm right heeeere?"

First I giggled until beer poured out my nostrils and my sides ached, then I jumped right into the game.

"'Cause I'm bored with you of course," I said in my best Xander voice. "You and I have nothing in common, nothing to talk about, and so I need other stimulation."

"But I don't wanna taaaalk, I wanna have seeeex."

"Sorry, no can do, I've been working 24 hours straight so I can afford all those pretty things you buy. And now I have to go over and patrol with Buffy, so try and just keep your mouth shut until I get back."

"Well, you're a pathetic loser, I'm gonna go sleep with Spike!" Spike put his hands on his hips and stuck his tongue out at me.

"Don't you dare, he's mine!"

Suddenly his stance changed and he said, "Hey, whoa, I don't like where this is going."

We laughed together and Spike went back to the closet to put his, well, Xander's clothes back on.

"Sorry, " I called out. "Too much beer."

When he returned and sat back down on the bed he said, "Poor Anya."

"Poor Anya?"

He took Xander's Rubik's cube off the nightstand and played with it. "She really did fall for the wrong schmuck."

"Pfff!" I said. "To that I say a great big FAT duh."

"Well, how was she supposed to know? Love is blind."

He almost had one side figured out.

"But, come on, I mean, really, what did they have in common in the first place? She whipped him, like, immediately. She just clung to him cause he was around. I mean, she didn't even wait that long to be human-like before she picked the first guy she saw!"

My blood pressure began to rise a bit too much at this point and after a moment, Spike said quietly, "I dunno, seemed to me like she really loved him, probably more than anyone else ever will."

Suddenly I felt really terrible for the mockery I had just made of my best friend's broken life. No one else was ever going to love Xander like that again. Spike had just declared it so.

"Really?" I checked, wondering at the same time if Tara would be the last person to ever love me like that.

"Well yeah, I mean, look at her, she's a gorgeous, intelligent woman with all these powers, and she chooses to marry...Xander? Why else but love?"

If the beer wasn't too many at two before, it was far too many now, at 2 in the morning, after 5 of them. "But," I started to say as my bottom lip quivered. I tried to force myself to not act stupid like this, but it started to feel inevitable. And of course he noticed right away.

"'What? What's the matter?" he asked with a degree of fright to his voice.

I shrugged 'cause I didn't want to just start to ball. When I thought all was clear, I felt Mister Lump start to crawl up again, so I shrugged again.

"Did I say something horribly wrong?" I was starting to scare him, I guess.

I shook my head. "No. S'just.Really? You don't think ANYONE will ever love him? That's so...."

I thought about Buffy and how I wondered if this was it for the both of them. Living out this passionless.superficial.situation, and it scared me. And not just for them.

"Well, no, I didn't...I mean, I don't know, I'm sure they will, and do, all I meant was he was really lucky to have someone like her who loved him so much."

"And, what.what about me? Do you think anyone would ever love me again?"

"Oh, honey, of course they will. I was just...making fun of Xander, really," he reassured me, but I wasn't buying it, for myself, anyway.

"Me too, I was too. 'Cause I'm a bad person!"

He set the Rubik's cube back down, the yellow side complete; the other colors still a jumbled mess. "No," he corrected me, " 'Cause it's fun. And easy."

I looked straight at him. "It's bad."

He shrugged. "Cant be THAT bad, even I don't feel guilty about it."

Oh, so now he's the standard for moral compassing? I thought. Then it occurred to me that yeah, actually, that might very well be a good gauge. I mean, after all, he said that he went out and got a soul. Like, he did it on his own. No curse, no spells, he went and.wonder what he did exactly to get it. It must have been a choice, I thought, at any rate. And it was a better choice than I'd ever made in my lifetime, and I've always had a soul. He was so totally better than me. At least he'd never tried to destroy the whole earth just because I was sad.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

"I'm drunk." Like that wasn't obvious enough. Or maybe I thought it would be a fitting disclaimer for the pathetic drivel that was to follow. "I don't deserve anyone anyway," I sobbed, "I'm such a mess. A disaster I told Giles I wasn't ready to go back, I told him."

Well of course Spike had a panicked look on his face now. Where the hell had it all come from? I'm sure that's what he was thinking, and how do I make her stop? All of this is going through my muddled head, along with commands to cut it out, but the effects of the alcohol and my sleepiness was no match for my already weak will and sullied confidence. Poor Spike. I should have told him right there and then to run back to the basement. I have no idea why I thought I was the least bit qualified for this.

Then suddenly I felt something smooth and cold on the back of my head. When I looked up he was patting me. "It-it's all right. I'm sorry."

He thought it was his fault I was such a mess. What a pair we were proving to be. "Oh it's not you," I sniffled.

"Well it-it's obviously something I said."

"No, it's not. Really it's not."

I wanted to ask him again about what happened with Buffy. If what they told me was even remotely close to the truth. It was starting to confuse me. Lots of things were starting to confuse me.

I think I started to say more to him, but the next thing I remember was waking up and seeing him sleeping. I wanted to poke him, he was so still. I wanted to make sure that he was really still living. Then I thought maybe I should go to school today. My school.

======CHAPTER THREE=======

Last night I really heard it from Buffy and Xander. Xander figured out that I'd put up Spike in his apartment, and rightfully so, he was kinda upset. But I explained that it'd had made him better and I was only trying to help him. And then I said how I didn't feel exactly comfortable at home and that's why I'd been staying over there and then all discussion was dropped. But not without his instance that I get Spike "the hell out of my house" by the end of today or he'd do it for me. And I sorta got the feeling that it didn't mean cab fare and a twenty to get him started.

When he and Buffy left (Thursday night, dinner at the Greek restaurant across from the Citgo turned Mobil) I sat down on the bed and looked at myself in the mirror. One week. One week ago today I skipped out on registration. My two best friends are sleeping together and I feel like a forgotten stepchild in some kind of twisted family unit. And I wasn't complaining, exactly. Heaven knows I don't really have much room to complain about my circumstances. I should just feel fortunate that I'm even living, or not in prison, awaiting the death sentence I so deserve.

Well, I couldn't change where I'd been, but I could change where I was going. Or at least attempt to. I packed a bag, a big bag, and grabbed a blanket, a big, heavy one.

When I got to the apartment, he was sprawled out on the couch, watching Port Charles and talking to the television. I threw the blanket at him.

"What's this?"

"We're getting out of here," I told him.

"What? Why? I like it here. It's real cozy-like. Besides, Xander and I came to an understanding-"

"Spike!" I interrupted. "You REALLY have to leave. Xander wasn't kidding around.

He wants you out, like, today, and I have this feeling that if you don't go, he may be back to personally escort you to the afterlife. Body AND soul"

"Let him try it," he said flatly, watching TV intently.

"Spike, he thinks you're influencing me. Forcing my hand somehow. He even went as far to say that.that I maybe shouldn't.help you."

He finally looked up at me, and then clicked the TV off. "Well I-I can go, I'll just...go."

He took his beer bottles off the coffee table and brought them to the kitchen, straightening up a little.

"Oh but, I said, "I thought that.um. You see, I.I've packed my stuff." I watched him run a sponge over the counter. "I was thinking that we'd.go. Together. Unless you, um." He started rinsing out glasses and putting them in the dishwasher and I began to wonder if I might be being a wee bit presumptuous. "I'm sorry, I really should have asked you first, huh?"

He stopped what he was doing and shook his head. "I just am not quite sure I understand what you're trying to say. Are you...running away from home?"

"I'm... taking a sabbatical," I declared, lifting my chin upward. "M-maybe I'll go on safari."

He gave me this half-smile, tongue-waggling thing. "And you want me to come with you on your running away sabbatical."

"Well...."

He went back to the couch and put the blanket around himself. "You know they're going to think I kidnapped you."

My heart pounded. "No they won't, I left a note." "I see," he said, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a comb off the counter. "Well, then. Let's get on with it, shall we?"

I smiled and my body went all giddy inside. "To the Wild Blue Yonder!"

==============

Spike slept in the back seat (or at least I think he was sleeping) with the blanket over him until the sun set. "So where is the "wild blue yonder", exactly?"

I had been waiting for him to ask me that since the moment I said it. In the four hours of thinking about it, I still hadn't come up with a good answer, nor had I really made any good headway of getting a reasonable distance away from Sunnydale. I'd started to head toward Los Angeles, but went north again, and now we were getting dangerous close to the empty side of the gas tank.

"Well, I guess it must mean like, 'riding off into the sunset.' Or, 'go west, young man!'"

"Well, yeah, but, we already are.west," he pointed out and stuck his head out the window briefly. "And from the looks of it, I believe we are headed dead east."

"Yeah.yeah um, well," I said brilliantly. "Well, you've been everywhere, right? Where is good place to run-I mean, sabbatical.in?"

"I've always liked Portugal," he suggested. "Nobody thinks of looking for you in Portugal."

Looking for me? Was I a fugitive now? I had a sinking suspicion he was teasing me, but he'd said it with such a straight face that I was going to feel stupid if he was actually serious. So I asked him if I could actually drive to Portugal.

"Not really," he said, but still didn't turn it into teasing. "There's Canada. I ran to Canada in the sixties."

"To.avoid the draft." I said sarcastically.

"Right, because I was so morally opposed to war," he jested. "No, because all the young boys who DID run took the good drugs with them. On their person and in their person," he laughed. "It really can be an awesome high to feed off people who are.um.well," he stopped his energetic reminiscing and lowered his head.

"Well, my money IS worth more up there," I interrupted in order to save him.

"Can you speak French?" he asked me.

"Yes I can!" I declared proudly, though I wondered why speaking the language was a deciding factor.

"Well, then. Canada, here we come."

=============

We stopped at the next gas station and Spike admonished me for having waited too long to fill up and that if I did it again, I was going to really hear it from him. It felt kinda nice.

Anyway, he bought, well I bought, a map and several junk food items, or "provisions" as we named them. He laid the map out on top of the car hood and studied it. Then he took my hand, put the highlighter marker in it and told me to close my eyes. He set our hands together on the map and told me to draw a line sort of upward, and that would be the route, or routes, we would take.

"According to this, we'll be going through Death Valley."

"Oh neat," I said through a stifled yawn.

"Desert's a creepy place sometimes, you know," he warned me once we'd got on the road. "I was there once, tripping on acid and searching for my animal spirit guide or some such nonsense. Ended up diving off the Ubehebe Crater. Took Drusilla all night to find me, she was so stoned herself. Nearly burnt to death.actual death.that day."

I closed my eyes. "Well, you'll keep me safe," I yawned out loud this time. "Right?"

"I was hoping you'd keep me safe," he said, his voice sounding almost like I was only hearing it in my head."

"M'not quite as strong as you," I mumbled.

"Yeah but.I think your magic kung fu might fare better against the spiritual-type spookies. Sometimes they can be scarier than the hyenas. 'Specially out there, in the desert."

His voice was fading further and further away from me. But I felt like I needed to let him know something first, before completely drifting off to dreamland. "Oh, um. I'm um, not gonna do.that.anymore."

"At all?" His voice seemed louder that time and it shook me back up a sleep level.

"Mm-mm," I shook my head.

"Why not?"

"'Cause, I'm scared. M'afraid I won't be able to handle it."

"But I thought that's why you went to England."

"It is but, I don't really trust myself, I guess. I guess that's sorta what got me on this road, in a way. I don't want to do it anymore, so my function as a Scooby is sorta.not there anymore."

At this point I wasn't even sure if I was still speaking out loud anymore, or if this was some kind of lucid dream. Whatever it was, Spike still wasn't finished asking me questions.

"But you were a Scooby before the magic, weren't you? I mean.they're your friends."

"Mm'yeah but." I sighed. I dunno.s'all different now especially with the...other thing.hap'ning.now." I started to sink back into sleep.

"Well, isn't it gonna be hard to just...not do it? Isn't it a part of you now?"

I wondered how he knew that, and that's why I think this part was just a dream. Hope I wasn't talking out loud in my sleep. I can say the stupidest things.

"So far s'good."

"But doesn't it seem like...Never mind, not my business. You do what you gotta, I s'pose."

Gotta sleep.

=================

When I woke up, the car was stopped and Spike was gone. It was daylight and for a second I totally panicked that he'd been combusted by the sun. I ran my hand over the seat to check for vampire dust and then heard a rustling in the back. Sticking out from under the big heavy green blanket, I saw a pair of black boots and breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked around at where we were stopped and it appeared to be a very much in the middle of a million miles from no place-place. The desert. I couldn't even see where there was a road, but I did see the tired tracks from the car that led me to believe he'd taken us off the road to, um, visit, I guess.

I got out of the car and looked around. It was gorgeous. I squinted and I could see other tourists a ways away from us. I wondered if we could get in big trouble for having driven to the spot we were in. I worried for about ten minutes that those were like, park rangers or state cops or something coming to arrest us, but when they got in their cars and drove off, I relaxed. And then realized how badly I needed to use the facilities.

But of course there weren't any port-a-potties anywhere near us, so I grabbed the Kleenex box and found a suitable rock to go behind, worrying needlessly about Spike wandering back there before I could finish. I hate camping. I hoped that our safari didn't include multiple days out here, even if it was beautiful.

I freshened up my face using makeup remover and facial tonic, brushed my hair real good, and pulled it back in a ponytail. As I was putting on some deodorant, I peeked at the lump in my back seat and wished I could wake him up. It was creepy out here, even at two o'clock in the afternoon. It was desolate and quiet and very much like sleeping over in a house where you're not used to the nighttime house noises. Every crunch and wisp and whistle was making my heart skip. Felt like I had the hiccups.

Part of me wanted to wander around, but I was scared of wolves or coyotes or big cats or, well, pretty much anything my imagination was able to freak me out with, so I opted to get back in the car and read.

================

"See what I mean?"

I screamed.

"Oh, sorry," he said and opened the backseat door, "forget sometimes about the creepiness that is me, let alone the desolate, emptiness out here." Somehow I'd missed the sunset.

My heart pounded mightily in my chest. "Oh.yeah. S'creepy. But beautiful. Hey, where are you going?"

He leaned into my window. "Do you really wish me to answer that?"

I recalled all of the donut wrappers and Big Gulp cup I'd stuffed into a garbage bag earlier and made the connection. "No, I.yeah. Just don't go too far. Please."

He smiled sweetly. "I won't. Not looking for a vision quest this time 'round."

I watched him wander off into the dark and behind another big rock. I rolled up all the windows and locked myself inside until I saw him return, a handful of sticks in his arms.

He built a great fire! Better than I could have managed. He was like, a pro or something. I wondered if it was a natural ability or if he'd developed the skill.

I ate from my little box of Cheez-its and stared into the fire. Out of the silence I heard, "*Do* I ever give you the creeps?"

It sounded like a "does this dress makes me look fat?" question. I tried to figure out what he wanted to hear, but he interrupted my thoughts.

"S'all right. I want you to be honest, Will."

"Um, well, you did when I found you in that basement. Big time." I waited a moment for him to respond and when he didn't I asked, "Do you feel better than then, anyway? I mean, any better than before?"

He sighed and poked at the fire. "Dunno about *better*, little less insane, that's for certain. Yeah, I s'pose I feel a little better."

I was glad when he ended it saying he did feel better. I didn't want to think I'd wasted my effort and that he was in actuality, miserable being with me on this.safari.thing. Whatever.

"I really, um," he started quietly. "I appreciate what you did. That you cared."

"S'okay," I told him. He sounded a little chokey and sniffly and I really wanted him to know that I thought he was worth caring about. "I mean, I couldn't just leave you there. It wouldn't have been right. You seemed so desperate. And sad."

"Well," he chuckled, "As it long as it wasn't pity..."

"It wasn't! Well maybe it was. But it's the good kind!" Whatever that meant.

He patted me on the back and I got this odd feeling in my tummy. "I know it was, Red. S'all right, your heart's in the right place. It always is," he smiled.

"Well and hey, not crazy.," I pointed out and he nodded.

"You're a regular miracle-worker." He took a puff on his cigarette. I was about to argue with him on that when he said, "We shoulda bought graham crackers and marshmallows. Wonder how Butterfingers would taste toasted."

I giggled at the thought. "We'd lose all the chocolate."

"Yeah, it'd just be a crusty hunk of...whatever that stuff is inside Butterfingers. What is that stuff? Do you know?"

"I dunno, but I chipped a tooth once on it. When I was five. I think that's about when dad started paying me for Halloween candy."

"He paid you for it?"

"Yeah. Said it was cheaper than the dentistry work that went into capping my tooth. And plus I was kinda a hyper kid."

"Not even gonna pretend to be surprised," he said.

"Hey!" I tried to take offense, but I ended up just giggling.

"S'okay, children are supposed to be hyper. I was a little hyper."

"Guess that doesn't surprise me, either," I told him and he gave me a touché look.

"When I wasn't crying, that is. God, I was the wussiest kid that ever was."

I didn't like hearing him talk like this. "Well, you just hadn't grown your tough skin yet."

"Yeah, only took getting turned into a demon for that to happen." He shook his head. "No, I was a wussy adult too. And I wasn't really "cool" until well after Angelus left us. I think it was from about, oh...1976 through maybe the year 2000. Those were my really cool years."

Year 2000 was when he met all of us, I thought. I wondered if we'd broken him. "Well I guess we all go through phases," I said.

"Yeah, guess I been through more than most, being so old."

Desperate for a topic change, I said, "I was thinking we could stay at a youth hostel, when we get there."

"Get where?"

"Canada."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I s'pose we could do that."

"It'd be cheap, real cheap. And some of them can be real nice. And it's Canada, so all the people oughtta be real nice too." I prayed that he didn't ask me what we'd do when the money ran out.

"Yeah, I used to eat at those a lot." He stared out into the nothingness. "Tasted better young like that."

I should have been careful what I wished for. "You aren't gonna...now, right?"

He frowned and shook his head, not taking his gaze away from the darkness. I waited for a long, long time for him to talk again, but he just sat there like a statue. We were five hundred miles from Sunnydale and for the first time I really felt it.

"You feel like you've got no purpose too, hmm?" I asked quietly.

He surprised me when I heard a choke in his throat. "I feel like I...cant believe I didn't kill myself. That my will was so weak."

"Too weak to kill yourself?? Oh no! No!" I started to panic. "That means it was strong. That you're stronger than...whatever it is."

He shook his head. "No, no, Will. Not-not now. Then. When I figured out what I was. What I had to do."

I felt a twinge a guilt when I thought how glad I was he hadn't. But only a twinge. "You...you didn't WANT to do those things?"

"No, not at first."

"Well but, I mean.Vampire. Isn't it instinct?" This was all news to me.

"My body wanted it- the blood- and I had instincts that I didn't really understand, but I knew they weren't right. I was scared. God, the thought of killing someone absolutely terrified me. Terrified."

I tried to pretend for his sake that I didn't see the tears dripping slowly down his cheeks. I also tried to take an objective stance, so he wouldn't think I was pitying him again. "Hmm, really," I said like a psychologist. "Is that.... is it normal?"

I continued to stare into the fire, but it didn't keep me from noticing him wipe his eyes. "Dunno," he chuckled. "Angelus didn't think so. Him, Darla, even as crazy as Dru was, they all thought I was defective. I should've just off'ed myself once I figured out how, but there were other instincts..." His voice started to rise. "I felt more alive than I ever had, everything was so...bright and loud and...pulsing."

My own pulse was heightened and I took the moment to ask him something I'd been dying to know for a long time. I used to want to ask Angel about it. I even had worked out little scenes in my head whereby I pretended to ask him, and each time he answered me differently. I wanted to ask Buffy when Angel did it, but I knew she wouldn't really talk to me about it. Now I had a chance to ask, and to ask someone I knew wouldn't judge me, and someone I knew would answer me honestly.

"Um, Spike, what was it like to...to be bit. What does that feel like?"

He didn't even blink at my question. "It hurts at first. A lot. But then it...doesn't. I dunno, I was just so grateful for the attention, my experience is probably different than most. I actually enjoyed it, for the most part. It felt good."

That's exactly what I wanted to know.

"I dunno if it's different though, if you're just getting bit for food. Most of the people I.did." he took a deep breath, ".didn't seem to be enjoying it much. It's a different kind of bite, to sire someone. And then there was the biting we did to each other, in the family."

"Really? So it was.for.fun too?"

"Uh-huh. Sometimes, anyway. There's a whole hierarchy of it, though. I wasn't allowed to bite her for a really long time, especially not just for fun, and she was only allowed to bite me on special occasions."

"Special? Like, what? Arbor day?"

"No like, if we were starving or if Angelus was feeling particularly wacky that day or something."

"So you guys really had like, a little clan then." This was all too interesting and it even seemed to making him feel better to recall it.

"Oh yeah. With just as many rules as my human family. And they made even less sense."

By this time I had about three thousand more questions, but I suddenly noticed how much lighter it was getting. "Oh my gosh," I gasped, "Look to the east! It's starting to glow, we should get you back in the car."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"How long to BC, you think? 15 hours?" I asked him as we cleaned up.

"Well, if we follow the path we set out on this map it's considerably longer than that. But we could just take the straight route if you'd prefer."

"Whatever you think we should do. I trust you implicitly."

"That's...somewhat frightening." He studied the map a second. "Well, if we go the way on our map, we get Vegas."

"THE Vegas?" I'd never been!

He chuckled. "Is there more than one?"

"I dunno, you're the world traveler."

"Well, I've just been to the one in Nevada."

The money chips were already dancing in my head. "Do you know how to gamble?"

"Of course I know how to gamble," he announced proudly. "Hundred years of evil here."

"But not too evil?"

"Well, not when you're winning. Which admittedly doesn't happen very often in Vegas."

I giggled and clicked my seatbelt. "Are you having fun?" I turned around to look at him. "I'm having fun. This is fun."

He looked up from the map and smiled at me. "Yeah, s'nice. Nice to talk."

I had that wonky feeling in my tummy again and wondered if I was getting sick or something. Or worse.

=======CHAPTER FOUR========

"Wake up, love. We're here."

I shook myself awake and as I opened my eyes was bombarded by so much light I worried a second that we needed to get Spike back under cover. I had to look at the clock on the radio to verify it was truly still nighttime.

"Just let me know which one of these shiny buildings tickles your fancy and we'll give her a whirl."

I looked up at a building called the Tropicana. On the marquis, larger than life, was the picture of a green smiling demony looking guy with two horns on his head. "Lorne" was the name of the singing demon. I knew there was something familiar about that guy, but I couldn't quite figure out what. It was like I'd seen him before. Then again, I'd seen a bunch of demons. But maybe it was some kinda sign.

"There," I said, pointing it out. "That's the one I want to stop at."

"You know that's where Elvis and Priscilla had their wedding reception. I was there, you know."

Inside, I headed straight for the black jack table, because I knew how to play that. I was hot! Spike went to get me a whiskey sour and I'd made three hundred dollars!

I was just about to put down one-fifty on my next hand when Spike grabbed the chips away.

"Remember that we talked about? This is about the time it starts to arrive." He counted up the chips and smiled at me. "Impressive. Here," he said and handed me my drink.

He put the chips in his coat pocket for safekeeping while I sipped my drink and watched the other players. There was a really skinny girl on the other side of the table doing just as well as I was. Probably better. The man she was with had a shiny bald head and it caught my eye like a big sparkly Holiday light. And then, between the two of them, I saw someone I KNEW I knew this time.

I grabbed Spike's hand and whispered frantically, "Hey! Is that who I THINK it is???"

"Who? Where?"

"Over there, in the aisle, looking around like he's totally lost. It's him! It's Angel!" I started to raise my hand to wave and call to him.

Spike grabbed my arm. "Don't attract his attention. He might...talk to us or something. Come on, let's go to another casino."

"Right, cause we're like, on the lamb," I teased.

"Yeah, and cause he's an annoying ponce. Come on." He pulled me out of my chair.

"Wait, I gotta cash in my chips. Before you're all with the rush-rush. And I've got my whole drink here still."

"They have drinks at other casinos, come on, now!"

"Jeesh, all right!" I took a last sip and watched two casino workers grab Angel by the arms. "Hey, look, they're taking him away!"

"Good riddance!"

"Do you think he's all right?"

"Who cares?!"

"Okay, come on crabby pants."

"Not crabby."

Leaving Angel behind, we went to a place called Circus Circus and got a room. I was all afraid that it was going to be a ton of money, even if I had just made three hundred extra dollars, but we got a really big, nice room for thirty bucks! Spike said it was so people spent more money gambling.

Once we'd settled in and showered up, we went exploring. The place was amazing. It was like, mini Disneyland inside a building, with a casino. There was an amusement park, and a ton of shops, and places to eat, of course. I thought how you could spend a week just in this spot alone. Everything was gold and shiny and big and loud and busy and teeming with artificial life. It was great.

"C'mon, love. Gotta get drinks from the spinning bar," he announced, taking my hand. "Oh but let's try some poker first, shall we? See if I can turn your winnings into something even more substantial."

"You think you can? What about the creepy evil?"

"Grace period starts over again in a new location. Usually."

"Okay," I said and linked my arms around his arm. "I can hang out behind you and be the pretty girl on your...back? Arm? What's the phraseology?"

We rounded the corner and entered the Poker Room. He looked down at me and smiled. "How 'bout just at my side? Don't look at my cards though."

"No?"

"Somehow I doubt you've got a good poker face."

"Oh."

"Just smile and distract the other guys with your cleavage."

I dunno why, but the suggestion made me blush.

He ended being the high.roller, or.player, or.winner, or whatever. Point was, we made another five hundred dollars!!

I squealed and as he got up from the table, I impulsively grabbed him and hugged him tight. And he hugged me back. And we stayed that way for quite awhile. And when we pulled back, we spent a few moments smiling at each other. And that feeling returned in my tummy.

"All right!" he said. "To the spinny bar!"

===========

"What about food?" I asked as I sipped my second whiskey sour. "Is food cheap, too? I'm starvin'!"

"Free buffets all the way, baby! And I've got our tickets for the amusement park, too. Gotta make sure we get our thirty bucks worth out of our stay."

"Maybe we shouldn't bother with Canada at all."

"Enter creeping evil." he said and ate the olive in his martini.

"Always gotta be the party pooper, dontcha."

============

The amusement park was the best; we rode on every ride and considered going again when I noticed the darn sun starting to rise again. Being under a big dome and all, not the best thing for my vampire friend.

Spike snuck some buffet food into the room while I was getting ready for bed and we pigged out while watching The Fellowship of the Ring. I don't remember at what point in the movie that I fell asleep, but suddenly I was hearing screaming.

I turned over real quick to see Spike sitting up in bed, his hands in his face, rocking forward and back. "No, no, no." he was saying over and over.

I flew over to the other bed and noticed right away that he was soaking wet, all over, as was the bed. I quick pulled the bedspread up over him (more so because I noticed that his jeans were on the floor next to the bed- he must have taken those off after I'd fallen asleep.) but also because he was freezing cold. Freezinger than normal, that is.

"Hey," I said quietly, "Hey, Spike. S'okay. Just a dream, right? Just a dream."

I patted his head, or tried to and he swatted me away, then looked at me, and hid his face again. "Sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. Perhaps you should just go back to your bed."

"Well, but are you, um." Okay? Obviously not Willow, I told myself. "Um, dreams, they're no big, we all have bad ones."

"Not! A! Dream!!!" he screamed and I looked at the door, expecting security to come knocking any second. "Not a dream. It's REAL!!"

My heart was in my throat and as I watched him wiping his eyes I started to feel like I could cry too.

"It's not a dream because it really HAPPENED! All of it, I...I cant get away from them." He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "They don't bother me when I'm awake. Not anymore. But they're in my head."

"They? Spike, too many pronouns, who-"

He shook his head hard, obviously frustrated with me. "All of them...Buffy and Dru and Angelus and Cecily and the other girls...I've killed so many girls." His voice cracked and he started to sob quietly.

It was at this point I realized I might be in way over my head.

"Oh, um.do you think you're going to do it again? I mean, do you feel like you're gonna hurt me or something?"

He sniffled. "No, certainly not. But you're different. You don't look at me like...." he took a deep, shaky breath and wiped his eyes again.

"Like what?" I whispered.

"Like I'm wrong. Less than you. Worthless."

It seemed so obvious to me. "Well of course I don't. 'Cause I don't think you are at all. All of that stuff, all that past stuff, it's the past. I don't think you should even think about it. You've got a clean slate, now. Just because you did bad stuff in the past, well.it doesn't mean you have to do it anymore. And that's the part that counts now."

He leaned down, and put his head on my shoulder. "You're wrong," he whispered. "But, thank you."

=====CHAPTER FIVE========

So, nearly a thousand dollars richer, we continued on our safari. And, once again, I woke up in the dead of night, not knowing where the heck I was.

The reason I woke up because there was a deafening noise coming from my belly. I heard Spike chuckle as I slowly revived. "Hungry?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Yeah, smart-ass," I giggled, "what gave me away?"

"All right, all right. Think I saw a sign for a truck stop bar up a ways."

"Truck stop bar?"

"What, are you too good for a truck stop bar?"

"Wull, no, it's not that exactly-"

"Ah, there it is, Bubba Don's. Ever ask yourself how come every truck stop is named Bubba-something?"

I didn't really answer him because I was blown away by all of the LIFE that seemed to be mulling around Bubba-whathisface's, all in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho. We must have been driving for hours with complete nothingness around us, and suddenly there's the population the size of Sunnydale all packed into a shack to drink beer, and apparently jamming out to Lynard Skynyrd.

"There must be fifty semis here! Maybe we." I trailed off because I saw this guy leaning against the little enclosure for the dumpster, his head thrown back and moaning like he had a stomach virus. "Hey whu-what's wrong with that guy over there? Do you think he needs some help?" I asked Spike.

"Uh, no, he's fine," Spike responded and rounded the gravel parking lot to reveal a blond head attached to the "sick" man's crotch.

"Oh...ew. I mean, ew! Maybe that's just...maybe there's a gas station up ahead," I suggested nervously. "I think I saw a sign."

"Right, I saw a sign too. It said last services for 85 miles. You wanna wait 85 miles?"

"Shhh..sure," I lied, "Sure that's fine." Then my tummy betrayed me.

Spike pulled into a space at the end of the line of white trailers. He put the car in park and sighed. "So, you don't wanna go in here, then?"

I looked at the Miller High Life sign in the tiny window and took a whiff of the food emanating from the weather worn building. My mouth watered and I felt woozy. I sighed. I was so hungry.

"C'mon, it'll be an adventure," he assured me.

I took a big breath. "Okay. Let's go." I got out of the car and stood next to the door. "But you have to hold my hand. Or my arm. Or carry me."

He laughed and put his arm around my shoulders, asking, "How's this?"

I put my arm around his waist, pulling him close. "What if they think I'm a floozy or something? What if I'm the only woman? It'll be like being the only woman on a prison cell block."

"Well, there's at least one other..." He opened the gray aluminum door and a wave of noise and smoke attacked me. "C'mon," he smiled, "I promise I won't let anybody do anything nasty to you."

For some strange reason my whole body got warm to hear him say the word "promise". I rested my head on him and told him that I knew that he would keep me safe.

I stuck to him like glue as he led me to a back booth, fortunately right next to the potty rooms. When I felt like I'd thoroughly disinfected myself, I rushed back to our table.

"They have Ms. Pac-Man!" he pointed out excitedly.

"That's cool, but I'm staying put." I looked around the rest of the space, now that I felt safe enough. I think Spike and me were the only ones in the place not wearing a cowboy hat. I expected all the patrons in the place to be as fascinated by that as I was, but I soon figured out they were probably too wasted to give a flying fig about us. They were too busy dancing and flirting and play pool and darts to even have a moment to look.

"Okay, well, what do you want? Burger?"

"Ew no," I said, my stomach churning from the thought, "Don't feel adventurous enough for beef in a strange town."

"Cheese fries?"

"Yeah, I think we're safest with anything fried."

We ordered one of everything fried on the menu and Spike ordered a burger. I was so hungry when the food got there that practically swallowed three chicken fingers before slowing down to taste anything. We ate in silence and as my tummy filled up, I relaxed a lot.

"You need to shave," I blurted out randomly.

"Do I?" He reached up and felt his chin.

"Yeah, I noticed it last time we stopped to sleep," I informed him with a mouth full of fried mushroom. "Oh! Hey, I didn't tell you! I saw a spaceship out there!"

His lip curled up to one side. "Out where?"

"In the desert! When we stopped. You were sleeping..." I could see Spike trying to hide his smirk by taking a sip from his beer.

"And...Well, I MIGHT have been sleeping too," I admitted, "But it sure seemed real. It was round, and silvery."

That time I got a raised eyebrow. "You sure it wasn't a plane?"

I swirled a French fry around in the too-yellow cheese sauce. "It was a saucer shaped.I think."

"You believe in that stuff?"

"Well sure." I popped the fry into my mouth and looked up to see his smile. He wasn't making fun of me. I could tell because his eyes were sparkling. My body got warm again. "And I believe you need to shave."

We sat in comfy silence again and observed the little world around us, occasionally making remarks about it.

When the waitress brought me another coke, I wiped the rim of the glass. "I'm having so much fun," I told Spike.

He sparkled at me again. "You sure you don't want some beer? Beer makes things even more fun..."

"Why, sir I do believe you are attemptin' to get me inebriated so as you can take advanatage of a poor defenseless female!" I teased, putting my hand on my chest in fake demure.

"Defenseless, my ass," he scoffed and we had a good belly laugh. "You ever do much traveling before?" he asked when we'd caught our breath.

"We took a yearly trip to New York to visit gramma Rosenburg. Oh, and one year we went to San Fransisco, but it was always by plane, so."

He nodded. "Yeah, s'kinda different. You like New York?"

"Oh, yeah I do, a lot a lot. Very exciting."

"You ever go there in the 70's?"

I didn't know exactly how I was supposed to respond to that, so I sat with my mouth hanging open.

"Oh Christ, you weren't even born yet, were you?" he wiped his face, in.embarrassment., I think.

"I wasn't even a twinkle in someone's eye in the 70's. I'm not really sure I ever was."

"Well, you are now."

Huh?

"Ooh look, I get the last jalapeno popper!" he said quickly and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

"I think we need to cut you off at one beer, fuzzy bear."

He scrunched up his face "Fuzzy bear?"

"Yeah." I reached over and squeezed his chin. "Fuzzy."

"Is that like Fozzie Bear, but with too much facial hair?"

I paused a moment, sort of taken aback that Spike, the Vampire, knew Fozzie Bear. "Well, technically, Fozzie was all about body hair," I pointed out, "He was a BEAR."

He sparkled at me again and nodded. "True."

I watched what I believed to be the same blond head from outside leading another trucker out of the bar by the hand. "So how old were you?" I asked Spike, fully aware of my randomness.

"How old was I when I.what? First had sex?"

Guess my thoughts are pretty darn readable, I thought. "Yes."

Before I had a chance to retract my silly, embarrassing question he answered, "Old. Very, very old." He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the bathroom doors behind me. "I um, didn't...actually, until I got turned."

"Well so you weren't THAT old, if you did it when you got turned. What, eighteen, nineteen?"

"Twenty-six, try. And it was actually um." He downed the rest of his beer and waved to the waitress to bring another, his fifth or sixth. "This is really embarrassing," he went on. "It was actually a-about twenty more years before I did it with a um, woman."

Okay, so, if Drusilla was his sire, I thought, and he didn't have sex with a woman, which would imply that it was a man he was having relations with and the only man that I know that knows Spike and Drusilla was.

"Oh," I said once it was all crystal clear.

"That was one of those rules I was telling you about. I mean, we did...stuff, but not...IT, you know."

"Right, yeah," I affirmed as though I understood perfectly well. "I dunno how to count mine, since, you know, when I did it the first time it was...not really.real.'cause it was with a boy."

"Yeah, I've got the same problem..."

"Poor Oz," I sighed, " If I had never lied to myself about myself, I wouldn't have had to put us through all that pain. Wow, I never thought about it before, but man, all that time, just living a lie." I shook my head disapprovingly.

"Well, you loved him at the time, right?"

"Sure, of course. I still love him."

"Well, then it was hardly a lie, Will."

"Yeah, but the sex .I mean .it wasn't really like, "true" or whatever. And the love wasn't really real real, you know, romantically speaking."

He sighed heavy, like he was irritated. "Well, did you know you were gay? What, were you just acting or something?"

He was starting to make me irritated myself. "Well...no. I didn't really know until Tara."

"Well then it was real, I mean, you loved him, you wanted to be with him."

My heart started to pound. I couldn't believe what he was trying to suggest! "I mean, I didn't know I was wrong until I was with her. Because I'm GAY. Don't you see? It's not just some fling. Gay here, all the way."

"Yeah," he said flatly, "I get it"

I still doubted that he did. "Well yeah, but you keep telling me that I was like, attracted and in love with Oz."

"I'm not telling you, you're telling me. I was just asking."

I couldn't believe his nerve. He wasn't getting it at all. Why did no one ever get it? "Okay. Okay. Well, um.Well, I'm gay and.what happened with Oz was just ."

Poor Oz. Poor me.

I sat back in the booth and sighed heavy. "I don't know what the hell it was," I mumbled.

"Look, it's not that weird, I mean, I'm NOT gay, but I still...well I had sex.with Angel. There, I said it."

I swirled my ice cubes around in my coke glass, faster and faster. "Every time I think I've got myself figured out, I up and do or say something.weird."

:"Well and, with.him.it was real, not, you know, great, but certainly real."

"Well, just cause you did it with Angel doesn't make you gay."

"So why does you doing it with Oz make you not gay? You can change, you know, maybe you weren't gay then, but you are now."

"Well but, that means I could change BACK, and then that would cancel out Tara." I felt like I could start crying any second "And I'd have been lying to her."

He rubbed his eyes. "Why does anything have to cancel anything out??"

"Well because, if you're gay you're gay, and you shouldn't, you know, switch, 'cause then you're like, nothing. Nothing." Missing Tara came over me suddenly in a wave so heavy I thought I could fall apart, but I was good.

"You know, there are people who like both."

"Yeah but they're, like, wishy washy, and don't have um, like, conviction."

"You know what you are? You're a bigot's what you are." He waggled his finger at me.

"A."

"Bigot, yeah." He raised his voice and leaned over the table at me. "Because you're judging people based on their sexual preferences and you wouldn't like it if someone did that to you, now would you?? It isn't like it's the choice between French fries or onion rings." He looked to the sky. "Dear Lord in the heavens above, I can't possibly decide, whatever will I choose??" he said mockingly. "You can't help who you love or don't love, or how. Love isn't a bloody conviction , Willow."

It was then that I realized I had to excuse myself or I would fall apart. I left him to steam alone over his beer and went to cry in the bathroom alone.

I didn't want to admit it, at all, but I had such a strong feeling that he was more than right.

--------------------------

When I finally re-emerged from the bathroom, sniffling and puffy-eyed, Spike was getting up from the table, tossing a ten dollar bill on the table. I could tell he was still really angry, so I just sorta avoided eye contact with him and started back for the car, ahead of him, trying not to start bursting out crying again.

"So where next, captain?" I asked in as cheery a voice I could muster.

"I dunno, grab the map and tell me where I'm going," he said in a totally crabby tone.

"Well, you kinda squiggled us back to Washington."

He started the car and looked into the rearview mirror. "Well then, Washington it is."

"Um, s'only 3 hours to sunrise.so um.we'll have to find something sheltery pretty soon."

"I think the next town is called Pucketsville. I'm they've got a hotels there."

Okay, mister crabby pants, is what I wanted to say. Instead I went with the phony levity, hoping to draw him out of it. "Sounds like a town a musical would be set in."

"Or a horror film."

GRRR.

We got to Pucketsville and found it to be more of the horror movie type towns rather than the preferable musical type. There was one motel on a bluff, run by a wrinkly old lady in a coffee-stained pink flowery housedress watching an infomercial for Tony Little's exercise machine. When I requested a no smoking room, the woman hacked a couple times and blew smoke in Spike's face. "Right," she told me in her masculine voice.

We unpacked the car in silence and it was starting to get to me. I felt a little chokey like I could burst out in tears again until we opened the door and I saw the room.

"Whoa this bed is...a little.littler."

"She must have thought we were lovers. Hope that doesn't offend you too greatly," he said without looking at me. "I'll sleep in the chair."

The chair was so low to the ground, a person sitting in it may as well sit on the floor. The arms were wide, shellacked wood and the cushions broken down brown vinyl. I couldn't let him do that.

"You don't have to," I suggested stupidly "that chair isn't fit for anyone to sleep in. Maybe we could get a cot or something. I'd sleep on it."

"Don't be stupid. I can sleep anywhere. Now go brush your teeth or something."

Brush my teeth?

"Spike, can we stop this?"

He plopped himself into that awful chair and stared at the brown paneled wall.

"Look, I'm sorry, I." I struggled a minute, trying to figure out exactly what I was sorry for and why I should be. "I'm sorry if I offended you and I don't think you're gay because you slept with Angel-Angelus, whoever and even if you WERE gay, it wouldn't be a bad thing, and maybe you're right, maybe there are people that are both ways and I probably don't know what I'm talking about in regard to being gay or bi or not and I should really think things like that through before I get all upset over them and just blow steam out like I did."

I was still babbling when I finally heard him going , "Will.Will.WILLOW!!!!!!"

"Oh..yeah?"

"Apology accepted," he said and then smiled. "Though you could have stopped with 'I'm sorry'".

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat on the edge of the bed. Can we conclude this with a hug so I know for sure you don't hate me?"

He flew out of the chair and sat down next to me, putting his arms around me and pulling me tightly to him. "Oh, no, Will.Will, darling, I could never hate you. Please, don't ever think that. Please."

"You are right, though, Spike. It was awfully closed-minded to think that way."

"And I shouldn't have blown up like that. I know you're still grieving."

We sat like that for a long time and it felt so good. I felt so close to him. Closer than ever.

We watched TV together on the bed and finally fell asleep in each others' arms. Fully clothed and on top of the covers, but still holding each other nonetheless. Drifting in and out of sleep I strangely recalled a conversation me and Oz had before we started dating, when I asked him if he wanted to make out. He called me on my ulterior motive to make Xander jealous.

I didn't even know if Spike was awake when I asked out of the blue, "Why do you think they're doing it?"

"Buffy and Xander," he stated plainly, as though we'd been talking for hours on the subject prior to this. I loved that he knew.

I nodded into his chest.

"Security. It's safe, it's easy, it's comfortable. And it's what he's wanted all along."

That was the part I didn't want to hear. My lips tugged down on one side.

"Why does it bother you so much anyway, love? Are you in love with her or something?"

"What??? Buffy? No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Well then what difference does it make to you, sweet?" He stroked the back of my head in a comforting manner.

"'Cause. It makes me odd man out again."

"You are NOT odd man out, by any stretch of the word, love. At least they like you."

It was hardly a consolation. "S'my fault anyways. I'm the odd man out because it makes me feel...weird, so I act weird, so.it just all dominoes or snowballs or whatever. I just don't get why I wasn't told, and plus, I'M all alone and that's not fair, and the biggie: not wanting Xander to be with any girl."

"What's this? Why don't you want Xander to be with any girl?"

"'Cause no one's good enough for my Xander," I said, fully aware of its ridiculousness.

"Not even your best friend?"

"Especially," I said and prayed he wouldn't ask me to explain that. So to cut him off, I asked, "Does it bother you at all?"

"Of course it does."

"Sorry," I whispered.

"But it's like I told you, should've expected it."

"Can't make it easier, though."

"No, in a way it does. I've sort of grown to accept it as the inevitable course of my existence."

It was the saddest thing I'd ever heard in my life, but I understood him perfectly. He felt like I did. That this was the sort of life that I was dealt and was doomed to repeat the same scenarios over and over. It was just the way the course of things were set for Willow Rosenburg.

My eyes started to water and before I could stop it, my tears dripped on his black shirt.

"Hey, Will, you all right?" The hair petting sped up now.

"Yes. Fine. I just feel. Sadly."

"Yeah," he agreed and I knew he knew exactly how I felt. The hair strokes slowed.

"I don't wanna grow up, Spike," I sniffled, "I don't want stuff to change. I don't want it to be over."

"Nothing has to be over, sweet. Your friends still love you and, God, you're so young, you've got so much time."

"I know," I choked, laughing a little. "God, I'm such a little girl. Girlie wimpy girl."

He hugged me a little tighter. "Nah. You're just emotional, nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with being girlie either."

I smiled big. I couldn't help myself.

"Spike?" I said sleepily after several moments.

"Yeah."

"You're a good friend. And I love you."

"You.you do?"

"Mmhmm."

"I um...I love you too, Willow.

=======CHAPTER SIX========

When we pulled off the exit to downtown Seattle it started to pour buckets. My heart raced as lightning after thunder after lightning clashed so loud it shook my whole body. It was terribly exciting and we were getting closer to Canada with every minute.

We picked a hotel right on the water, nice and swank, though considerably more expensive than the one in Las Vegas. Figuring since we'd "slept" together the other night just fine, I saved money and got us a room with one bed. But I guess I should have told Spike before we got in the room because he goes, "One bed, oh." when he saw it. "Sure, that's fine," he said without me even asking.

Those were about the only six words he'd spoken to me since we'd left Pucketsville. Not that we'd argued or anything, but we had gotten to that point in the trip where we felt just as comfy not talking. Well, and there was that little exchange we'd had in the motel room.

After I'd gone pee, I found Spike outside on the balcony, just standing in the rain.

"Spike! You're going to get electrocuted to death! Real death!" I yelled out the door, shivering as the damp air rushed through me.

"Lightning's moving away," he said calmly pointing at the ocean, "across the water, see?"

"Aw. that's too bad," I said and met him at his side. "I like the way the thunder echoes in my body."

"I like the way the sun doesn't turn me into a pile of burnt toast scrapings."

I leaned on his arm and he moved it across my back. "It came on too fast and furious. Makes for a short lived storm."

We stood like that for several minutes, watching the black cloud float across the ocean like it was being pulled on an invisible string. I imagined some big fat weather baby giggling and running through the sky with his storm cloud balloons. I wondered where he would take them next or if they'd pop or deflate before he could get anywhere at all.

"You've been so quiet today," I said to him finally. "Watcha thinkin' about?"

"Nothing, really. Stupid stuff."

Stupid? "Well that's not nothing. But you don't have to tell me," I lied. "Its not like we're BEST friends or something.

"We're not?"

We were?

"We aren't? I mean, well, I'm just saying that you don't have to tell me anything you don't wanna."

"I know. Come back in the room. You're shivering."

I conceded and we spent a nice relaxing, for the most part, afternoon sitting in the quiet, reading and snacking and watching TV. At one point Spike went out and got us Seattle newspapers and hot chocolate from the machine in the hallway. He's always gotta read the paper-I told him everything's on NPR or CNN, but he insists on a paper. Even the twelve page one in Pucketsville.

"Willow, I think we need to t-"

"Dance!" I interrupted.

"Dance?"

"Look at this," I said, and showed him an advertisement for a swing dance club holding an old fashioned dance-a-thon. "It's for charity, but we could win five thousand dollars!"

He looked at me sideways and chuckled. "You wanna go to this? "

"You wanna? Don't you think it'll be great?!"

I watched as his face relaxed and a smile replaced his confused look. "You think you can keep up with me and my fancy feet?" He winked.

"Well I think I have a total advantage with a vampire partner. When I get tired, you can just hold me up."

"Yeah, s'pose that's true," he chuckled. "Am I gonna have to give you some lessons first?"

"What in the world makes you think I don't already know how?"

He bowed his head and raised his eyebrows at me. That squishy warm feeling inside was becoming very difficult to ignore now.

"Yes, please," I giggled.

"Actually, I think I need to go shopping first..." he said uneasily.

"Why?" I said, pulling open my suitcase and getting my blue chiffon dress with the satin ribbon sash out to hang.

"Well for one, I've been wearing these trousers since 1992. And for another, I don't think they're really appropriate for where we're going."

I was so excited about going dancing that I pressed my dress and did up my hair as soon as he left, spending at least an hour and a half just looking at myself in the mirror, alternating between fluffing my hair and my dress and my breasts. And wondering what he saw when he looked at me. What he'd see now. What he'd see tonight.

"Wow," I heard suddenly out of the blue.

"Wow, huh?" Apparently I warranted a wow!

"You look really authentic."

"Authentic? Really? Cool!" He oughtta know, I thought. I'd done my best to curl the ends under and pin it back so I sorta looked like a red headed Donna Reed. Or maybe she was red-headed. Hard to tell from the black and white television shows.

"Yeah, definitely," he said softly, coming up behind me in front of the mirror. "And gorgeous. Don't know why girls ever stopped doing their hair like that."

I blushed and moved away from the mirror hoping he couldn't see me. "What about you?"

"I got a suit, and didn't spend too much money, either, thanks to the Salvation Army resale shp."

"Doesn't matter anyway," I said with a big smile of confidence, "we're gonna win five grand."

"Right," he laughed and headed for the bathroom. "Going to change now."

It must have been close to an hour later that he came back out because I'd sat down in the big overstuffed chair and dozed off awhile.

"Oh smashing, she's asleep already. Some partner you're going to make."

I opened my eyes and smiled so big it hurt my face. He was in a gray vintage sharkskin suit and his hair was all slicked back. His shoes were gray and shiny and he was twirling a fedora in one hand.

"Look out. Old Mackie's back," I teased.

"Nice, hey? Only twenty smackers."

"I could just swallow you up, you look so good!" I jumped up and down like a little girl and clapped my hands. "Ooooooh this is gonna be so fun!!!"

"Come now," he smiled. "We need to practice our moves."

"Not too much though, don't wanna get pooped too soon."

==============

The club was in an actual ballroom built in the nineteen-teens. It had pink marble columns that shined like gold, and black and white tile floors. The ceiling in the ballroom had cherubs and a blue sky and clouds painted on it and the tops of the columns in the room were painted in a gold leaf. There were several crystal chandeliers and the centerpieces on the tables were adorned with pink and red rose topiaries.

The band was up on a stage, all arranged like out of a Fred Astaire movie. The backdrop curtain was sparkly and big crescent moon and star cutouts hung at various heights from the ceiling. The musicians all wore white tuxes and their instruments shone even brighter than the marble in the room.

Spike got us all signed up while I drooled and bounced nervously. We were couple number 216 and I told him that was good luck because "216" was my birthday, and so we were bound to win. He laughed at me and spun me around and onto the dance floor.

We danced like mad, pacing ourselves, of course, and even warranted a few rounds of applause during some of the dances. It was the best fun I'd had in a long, long time. I laughed so hard my trachea was sore and my mouth muscles hurt from my constant smile. I'd never seen Spike smile so much, either. He looked like a completely different man that night. He looked really happy. He looked beautiful.

During one of the slower numbers, I said to him, "You're going to get half of it, you know."

"Oh, that's all right, I figured we'd just use what we need for the travel fund and you can take what's left," he offered.

'You'll still get half the rest. It's rightfully yours," I insisted, as though it were already ours.

Ten hours later I was leaning into Spike's chest, swaying back and forth with my eyes closed. Of course I couldn't hear his heart beat, but I knew he was there because I could feel his hand on my back, his fingers running lightly across my back in time with the music. I felt so warm with him wrapped completely around me, just like when we fell asleep together the other night. I inhaled deep to take in his nice smell, which was like fresh soap and even the thrift shop-bought suit smelled like it, instead of 'this came from a dead old man's house' smell. Moreover, it smelled like him. Something I'd grown comfortably accustomed to in these last few weeks.

There was a pressure on the top of my head suddenly when he leaned his cheek there. I expected it to go away soon, but it didn't. He moved his arm lower around my waist and put the hand he was holding around his own back so he could put that arm around my back. It was a good thing because if he hadn't I would have just sunken to the floor from exhaustion, and I think he knew that.

"Wake up, baby," Spike said, shaking me a little. "We won!" he whispered in my ear.

I had no idea when the people were clapping it was for us.

"We did?" I said sleepily.

Then something happened when I lifted my head and looked into his face. And for whatever reason suddenly in that moment, things were different and I realized that I was more than just this vampire's good friend.

I grabbed his head and I kissed him.

==============

I honestly thought he'd pull away quick, but he didn't. In fact, after the first contact, I tried to pull away and he followed after my lips to answer my kiss. And it was a long answer. A long, soft answer. I started to slip out of his arms and he squeezed me tighter so I wouldn't fall.

I moaned a little. I couldn't help myself. Everything was warm and I felt so fuzzy and tingly all over my body, especially in the places where his body touched mine. He must have heard it, 'cause he moaned too and when I pulled away for a quick breath, he slipped his tongue into my mouth.

I wanted to cry it was so sweet. He began taking in air through his nose and it tickled my skin when he exhaled. He swayed our bodies together with his hands and his body and I felt him then, pushing out at my tummy. My heart pounded faster. This is what I'd been searching for, I thought. Someone who knew me, really knew me, and still wanted me. As a friend and.

He was hard. He wanted me.

There was a tapping on my shoulder; the Master of Ceremonies wanted our names and a picture for the paper. Spike turned and held me in front of him, to um, obscure things. What was strange was that he didn't make any effort to hide it from me.

He wanted me. Tonight. He must want me.

Tonight.

==================

My teeth chattered all the while I filled out the paperwork for our winnings. I stood there for several moments staring at the address box, trying to remember my house number. My mind kept wandering over to the hotel, and where the evening was going to go next.

I was totally nervous. I mean, I only had sex with one boy and that was a relatively long time ago. I wondered if it would hurt and then that made me wonder if we needed condoms and then I wondered how many times we'd do it and that made me wonder if he'd stay awake and cuddle with me after and we'd talk and.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Rosenburg?" the official asked me.

"Mmmno," I laughed. " I'm just a little slutty."

"Pardon?"

"Sleepy."

Cash in hand, I collected Spike from the bar and he kissed me again, this time tasting of olives and scotch. I idly wondered how many he was able to drink while it was taking me a half an hour to remember my Social Security Number, but I quickly forgot to ask when his hands dropped to my ass and squeezed.

"Told ya we'd win," I said, moving my lips across his neck to his ear.

"Yes you did. We did."

=====================

On the way back to the hotel I was disappointed to remember that I didn't really pack anything in the way of sexy underwear or pj's. Wasn't really planning on, well, you know. So I settled on just putting the hotel bathrobe on over just me. Not like I needed to be wearing clothes for the occasion.

I went into the bathroom and showered quick because I smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke and because I needed to do something to perk myself up. Last thing I wanted was to fall asleep during this. My body was already so sensitive that I had to work to keep from moaning when the water beat down on my skin.

When I reemerged, Spike was fiddling with the radio, trying to get something to come in clearly. I crawled into bed and kissed his bare shoulder blade.

He jumped and flipped over to face me. "What.oh.hello, love," he said and smiled kinda funny at me. "You washed your curls out," he observed, pushing my now wet strands from my eyes.

"I was kinda stinky all over."

"I liked it just fine," he said.

I waited a moment, enjoying his sweet smile, thinking he'd make the move to kiss me. But he didn't. So I did.

We both melted into it and after a moment I felt okay to start touching him in other places. I started at his back and traced his spine to his behind. I squeezed.

"Mmmmm, Will," he said, pushing me away lightly, "how about we just.be close. Lie here together.

I'd thought that's what we'd been doing the last ten hours or whatever it'd had been we danced.

"Do you love me?" I asked randomly.

"Do, do I? God, Willow I." he swallowed. "Yes. Yes, I love you. And you.uh" His voice was low and soft and little boyish and made me feel like the most important person in the world. "I love you very much." I ran my tongue super lightly over his bottom lip.

He whimpered and pushed away again. "But don't.don't you think this is all a little too soon? You've not really grieved nearly long enough and well, how about those convictions you were so vocal about not too long ago."

"You can't help who you love or how," I repeated his own words to him, "Or when."

He laughed a little and brushed more hair from my face. "All right. Though you surely can understand when I wonder just how in the world you can love someone like me."

"Same way you can love someone like me."

"Yes, but you're not nearly as-"

"Let's not compare books right now," I whispered and kissed his eyes. "I want to make love. I need to."

I heard him inhale to speak, but when I began to kiss his neck, he let it out quickly and pulled my body to his.

"You're sure."

"Mmhmm," I hummed into his neck and lifted a leg over his hip. He was still very ready; it was still there, pushing through the opening of my robe and rubbing on the skin of my tummy. It was strange, but not in a terrifying way - familiar and thrilling and right, all at the same time.

He gasped and moaned and rubbed himself into me a few times. He stuck a hand under the robe and on my bare leg, running it up the back of my thigh and over my butt. He whimpered and I wondered if he was surprised that I was in fact totally nude under there. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't bothered to shave my upper thigh and I hoped that the hairs wouldn't bug him out. Somehow I doubted it when he repeated the movement, this time squeezing my cheek.

Our lips met over and over again. I could feel his smile as we continued to play like this and it was so nice I almost wanted to cry. My insides were filled with giddiness and my head was light. I was so happy.

I moved my hands around from his back to his chest and rubbed his nipples with my fingers. I didn't think vampires ever breathed, but I guess they must when they're nervous or excited, 'cause his chest rose and fell rapidly with that.

"Willow," he whispered and tugged on the robe's tie, opening it up completely. He eased it as much as possible down my shoulders and I think my whole upper body thought it was in flames as he stared at my breasts, mouth agape. "God. Baby, you're so beautiful. So beautiful."

He dipped his head down and sucked gently on them, one after the other and I think a tear did drip from my eye that time. I ran my hands over his face and through his hair while he suckled, whispering to him how much I loved him.

I felt a hand on my bare hip and the realization set in that I was about to have sex with a vampire. Only this time it wasn't like my fantasy. It was Spike, and not Angel, like it had been in my mind all those times.

Finally I lie there naked, watching as he pulled his sweat pants down and off. When he parted my legs I fully expected him to just take me, so I closed my eyes and held my breath. I was a little nervous as to how this was gonna feel after all this time. And I was quite certain he was at least a little larger than the only other one that had ever been there before.

But instead I felt light kisses on the inside of my thighs working their way up to the middle until his mouth was on me, thrusting his tongue inside. I didn't have time to close my mouth before a full-fledged moaning cry escaped. He moaned in response and his tongue moved faster and his nose rubbed into right where things felt the best and then the room was dark and blurry and I couldn't see a thing even though my eyes were wide open. I think I kept moaning, it was either me or someone else, I couldn't really hear so good anymore either.

I writhed and grabbed at his hair and moved his head around so the parts of his face were hitting the parts of me just where it was nicest. Then it started to build in my tummy and my whole body was melting into the bed. But I wanted more. I didn't care. I wanted to be together with him.

"Spike!"

I must have yelled louder than I thought because the look on his reddened face was filled with fear and concern. "I.I'm sorry, I-."

"Mng..no..no." I could hardly speak either, and for a second I wanted to just stare at his shiny red nose and lips. That was me there.

"Will?" He panted.

"No.now, now.I."

"Are.you're sure? Thought you'd wanna."

It was nice to know he was having just as much trouble talking as me. And just the sweetest thing in the world that he wanted to make sure that I came first. But what he didn't understand was that it didn't matter. It wasn't why I was here with him. I just needed him. I needed the connection.

But because I was having the articulation trouble I just shook my head quickly and squeezed his shoulders. "Jus'.now. Please. Please."

He smiled and took hold of my ankles lightly, gently pushed them toward me as he rose above to kiss me. I pushed my tongue inside to taste myself on him and reached between us to touch him, to let him know how serious I really was.

There was a gasp of breath before he pushed my hand away. He dropped his head to my shoulder and whispered sloppily, "I really do love you, Willow," and then he was inside.

We stayed there a minute motionless and I was both relieved and surprised that it didn't hurt in the least. Just a little gentle pressure and after a minute I was ready for more. I shifted upward as much as I could and brought my legs around his waist. I wrapped my arms across his back and hugged him tight. Then he started to move.

It was heaven. It sounds so silly to say, but I really felt like I was one with him. Not that I never did with Tara, but that boy and girl connection is just, I dunno, somehow really different. Not better necessarily, but a good different. I tried to get him to move his head back to look at me, but he wouldn't. He just kept thrusting gently while pressing his open mouth into my shoulder, sucking ever so lightly.

I moved my hands down and pushed at his cheeks and he groaned into me. Then with a gasp his hips sped up, and then it was over.

I sighed happily. When he finally broke away from me, he rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. He was crying.

I kissed at his tear soaked face and whispered that everything was okay. He responded with a quiet sob and I rested my head on his chest. I think I whispered "Love you," but I was fading quickly.

=========CHAPTER SEVEN===========

When I woke up, he was gone. I sat up in bed and called his name and shivered when I realized he wasn't in the room at all. I pulled my robe around myself and observed the way the blankets were mussed up and took a moment to enjoy the reality that was last night. The best night of my life. Ever.

I sighed and hugged my arms to myself. My entire body ached wonderfully, both from the dancing marathon at the ballroom and from our beautiful dance. I leaned back in the bed and relived the whole evening over again in my head.

He loves me.

I must have fallen back asleep because the next time I looked at the clock it was 11:20 a.m. I sat up straight in the bed again. Daytime. And he was still gone. My heart started to pound until I flew up and pulled the curtains open.

I sighed in relief. Dark and overcast, and raining cats and dogs.

But then, wasn't this the scenario Buffy told me about after she and Angel had.

"Oh, you're up."

I turned around quick.

"Thank God!"

He smiled at me funny. "What for?"

"Nothing.nothing," I shook my head and ran over to him to kiss him hello and good morning.

Instead he pushed the bag in his hand out in front of him. "I, uh.got breakfast. Coffee with extra cream and strawberry filled donuts," he smiled.

"Aw, you're the sweetest thing!" I took the bag from him and reached up to touch his cheek, but he sorta jerked away. My heart pounded once again. Something was very wrong. "Spike?"

"Listen, Will." He walked over to the bed and sorta straightened the covers up, smoothing out the wrinkles that evidenced what had gone on between us last night. "I.I really think we need to talk."

I swallowed. I hate those words. Hate them.

I put breakfast down on the table, now no longer hungry. I sat down next to him on the edge of the bed and took his hand. He let me do at least that much.

Before I could talk, he began. "First, I." he took a big breath, "I am really very sorry about last night. It.I didn't want it to be that way, I."

"Sorry?" I interrupted. "You're sorry? I don't understand. At all. Was.was it me? Was I.like.um.not what you expected.or something?"

"You? You? Oh, God. Willow, no. No, no, no. You were wonderful. Beautiful. So absolutely very perfect." He leaned down and kissed me on the head and I relaxed a smidge.

"Good. Because yesterday was my most favorite day of my life so far."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, though, because he pulled back again and let go of my hand. He sighed heavy yet again. "Wish you hadn'a said that," he laughed quietly. "Anything but that."

"Listen, is it because I didn't, you know, finish? 'Cause if it is, I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me; everything about it was absolutely perfect for me. Honestly. It was exactly the way I wanted it. You were wonderful and beautiful and perfect, too."

He rubbed his face with his hands and through them mumbled, "Thank you." He moved them away and rubbed them nervously on his jeans instead. "Even if I cried like a child?"

"Well, it's a really emotional thing, so, I can't blame you. I've cried before, too, I-.Well it's love and that's strong, so, it stands to reason."

He was shaking his head. "No, it's not just that, it's more. There's more wrong with me and I don't understand why you can't see that. Why you won't."

"Look, if it's about the Buffy thing, it doesn't matter to me, I love you and forgive you, in spite of whatever you think you've done that's so horribly rotten. I think you're wonderful and I'm proud of you, and so very thankful for everything you've given me."

He sighed again. "I know, and that means more to me than you'll ever, ever know. And every day I spend with you is helping me to become a better man."

"So what's the problem, then?"

"The problem is that I'm not doing anything to help you."

"Sure you are! Of course you are! How can you say that? You've helped me do a lot."

He looked at me finally and I saw the whites of his eyes colored completely pink and the skin around them puffy and red. "What did I help you do? Run away from your friends? Run away from your problems? Run away from your life?"

My heart sunk, in that icky way when you realize your bluff has really been called. I couldn't help the lump rising in my throat, and soon the room was blurred by my tears. "You helped me believe that I could love again," was all I could get out before the sobs followed.

He held me and we cried together. I knew what he was going to say next. I just knew.

"I have to take you back home, baby. Don't want to. But I know I have to. We both know that it's the proper thing."

=============

The trip back to Sunnydale flew by. Spike and I didn't talk very much at all except to talk about needing gas or food or restrooms. We listened to a lot of music on the way back and I slept in the back seat for a good part of the trip. And every once in awhile I'd start to feel weepy and he'd reach over and hold my hand.

It wasn't until we'd reached Buffy's house that we faced the reality we needed to deal with the goodbyes.

We turned to one another and both of us opened our mouths to speak, but nothing came out. Instead we held each other for a long, long while.

"Dunno what I'm going to do now," I squeaked out.

"You'll figure it out, I have the utmost faith in your strength, pet." He ran his hand through my hair. "You need to just trust yourself."

"What're you going to do?"

"Dunno. But I don't want you to worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Where will you be?"

"Dunno that, either. But I can say it isn't going to be here."

I sobbed a couple times. I didn't understand why this was happening, but I knew that it was right.

"Call me. Promise me you'll call me."

"Try to," he choked out. "Now you promise me you'll try be happy. S'why I'm doing this, you know."

I nodded and knew it was time to break away or I was really going to lose it. He helped me unload the car and carry the bags to the front porch, advised me to be a good girl, and turned to walk away.

"Wait," I called to him, digging through my purse for the envelope with his money in it. "This is yours. Your half."

"No, Willow, I can't accept this."

"It's yours. Please don't argue with me. Our picture is in there too."

"Our...? You mean from the dance?"

I sucked my lips in and nodded. He smiled and rushed back to me and held me one last time. He kissed my forehead and whispered, "I love you."

I watched him walk down the sidewalk away from the house and down the street until I could no longer see him.

"Willow? Willow, is that you???"

Xander flew out the front door and held me tightly. "God, we were so worried, are you all right?"

"M'sorry, Xander. Yeah, I'm just fine."