The message from Angel read:

Hi Willow, This is just a reminder that you have to change the words of the spell -- instead of "let his spirit cleave to hers," you have to say something like "let his spirit be bound by hers." Otherwise you will have performed a vampire wedding ceremony instead of a binding! But I'm sure you already knew that -- I just thought I'd remind you just in case. It's better to be safe than sorry.

Are you sure it wouldn't be better to just stake him? Well, I guess you and Giles know what you're doing. Good luck with the spell.

Angel

PS Cordelia says hi and she had a commercial audition today. Some kind of pine-scented grease remover, I think it was. She just knows this will be "the one."

"I'm dead, I'm so dead," Willow moaned. "Did you see what he said? The problem is, Giles didn't know what I was doing! And neither did Buffy! And when Angel finds out I did it wrong..." She shook her head, not raising it from her hands.

Tara stroked her hair. "Then we'll just have to make sure it was the right thing to do," she said with quiet determination.

"And he has the chip out now, so we can't undo the spell -- and oh, we can't undo it anyway because the shirt is burned." Willow sat and shook for a moment longer, then Tara's words reached her conscious mind. "Wha- what'd you say?"

"I said we'll have to make sure it was the right thing to do." Tara smiled at her fellow witch's bewildered expression and explained. "Look, Spike told you he was in love with Buffy, right? How he tried and tried to forget her, but couldn't? Well, right after that you had Buffy telling you how she wanted a guy who wanted her and only her. Spike does seem to. And you told me before about Drusilla, how much he loved her, so we know he can love and love deeply."

Willow's face was thoughtful now, and she was paying attention.

Tara continued, "So all we have to do is find out if Buffy likes him too, or would if she knew how he felt. I think you should set them up. Sort of like a blind date, except neither one will know it's a date."

Willow shrugged. If there was any way to salvage this situation, she was willing to try it. First, she had to talk to Spike.

It turned out to be easier than she thought. He showed up at her room shortly after he woke up from the anesthesia and banged hard on her door, scowling.

"Come in," she called.

"Red," he said as he entered, "Someday you're going to have to learn not to say that to vampires!" He approached the bed and grabbed her, his face slipping into its vampire mask as he did so. Then he let her go and said, "What the hell? I've got the chip out; why can't I bite you?"

"Um, the spell. It's because of the spell." Willow explained, puzzled. He already knew this.

"Oh, bloody hell," he said, sinking down on the bed next to her. "I didn't think it would actually work!" He hung his head in disappointment.

"Spike?" Willow didn't know quite how to approach this. "I sort of made a mistake with the spell."

His head shot up and he glared at her. "Why, oh, why, am I so completely unsurprised by that?" he growled. "All right, what did you do this time?"

"Well, it was the original wording of the spell, something about the spirits cleaving to each other, and I should have changed it to your spirit being bound by hers. It was just so you wouldn't be able to do anything, or hurt anyone, that Buffy wouldn't hurt. I figured that would keep us safe, and would still let you hunt but not kill people."

Spike growled again, his eyes flashing yellow briefly. He got control of himself, and said, "Go on. What happens now?"

"Well, Angel told me that the original was some sort of... vampire marriage ceremony. I guess I accidently married you and Buffy."

"Bloody hell!" Spike roared, leaping to his feet. He began to pace the room in tight arcs, moving like a coiled spring. "Not that I wouldn't, but what the hell is she going to say? I take it you haven't told her yet?"

Willow shook her head. "I'm afraid there's no way to undo the spell, either. I was hoping maybe you could... I don't know, talk to her. Tell her how you feel? She told me --" Willow stopped talking abruptly, feeling as if she were betraying her best friend.

Spike sat down next to her again, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "Come on, Willow. What did the slayer tell you? Something about me? Tell me," he urged.

Haltingly, Willow explained a little of what Buffy had told her the day before. The more she talked, the more Spike began to smile.

Finally, he stood up again. "All right, listen. Tomorrow night, you're going to tell the slayer you heard of something bad happening at the Bronze. It'll be me. I'll, uh, 'talk' to the slayer, and we'll see what happens."

"I can do that," Willow said.

Spike nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave. He stopped with the door open. "Oh, and Red? You're sleeping somewhere else tomorrow night. Got that?" He disappeared out the door.

Willow nodded, then began to blush as the implications of his last order reached her. She shrugged, the blush still staining her cheeks, and began to pack an overnight bag.

When Buffy got back, Willow told her she'd heard of something going on at the Bronze that night that the slayer might want to know about.

Buffy swallowed it with no trouble. Willow breathed a sigh of relief -- and then realized she still had to "'fess" up to Giles. Buffy left for her evening history class and Willow wearily picked up the phone.

When Buffy finished class she went to dinner, then went back to her room to change. She found Willow zipping up her overnight bag. "Hey, Will, where you going?"

"Uh, home. For the night. Gotta see mom and dad, y'know." Willow laughed nervously.

"In the middle of the week? What's the emergency?" Buffy wanted to know. She opened the closet and began perusing it for a good outfit to wear to the Bronze.

"Oh, no emergency. I just feel like I shouldn't be around tonight. I mean, that I should be home tonight," Willow said.

Buffy shrugged. "Okay. Hey, what should I wear tonight? Should I go for functional --" she held up one outfit, " -- or sexy?"

Willow considered the two. Cocking her head on one side, she went into the closet and pulled out a third outfit: some black spandex leggings and a red halter top. "How about both?" she suggested.

"Will, you're a genius!" Buffy cried. "Gotta look good when I take down the baddies tonight!" She began to change as Willow laughingly bid her good night.

Buffy caught sight of a new face at the Bronze that night. A dark-haired young man in his mid-twenties leaned against the bar nursing his drink and surveying the room with bored eyes. Buffy noticed him right away, and did an appreciative scan down his body. Hair: dark and wavy, cut short. Face: pale, with dark, midnight-blue eyes and chiseled features. His face looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Body: lean, muscled, scarred. He wore a blue shirt tucked into his dark blue jeans, tucked into his... Combat boots? Buffy's eyes shot up to his face again, aghast to discover why he had looked so familiar.

"Spike?" Her lips formed the shape of his name. She instinctively melted back into the crowd as his gaze swept her way. She wanted to watch him for a while, figure out why he had changed his 'look.' His dark hair had thrown her. She inched over to the stairs and hid behind them to study him.

She wasn't the only one who had noticed him; he was popular at the Bronze tonight. Girl after girl approached him. Dark, fair, ruddy -- he surveyed them all with an expression that judged them and found them wanting. He wasn't very polite about it, but he didn't hurt them. He just coldly informed each of them he was waiting for someone special. The implication that he didn't find them in the least bit special was also clear.

This went on for some time, until one of the girls told her boyfriend on him. The burly football player approached Spike, evidently not thinking the slender Englishman would be much of a threat. "You just insulted my girl!"

Spike took a leisurely sip of his drink and finished his cigarette. He snuffed it out with great care and eventually deigned to swivel his head around towards the jock. "If she's your girl, why did she just offer herself to me? You not getting the job done?"

The jock swung at him, cracking the vampire in the jaw. Spike took it, then put down his bottle and punched the guy in the face rapidly four times. The first split his lower lip, the second gave him a black eye, and the third and fourth broke and bloodied his nose. Spike smiled at the guy and carefully, deliberately, licked the jock's blood off his knuckles.

The man bolted. Spike grinned. Buffy gasped. Spike had shown no signs of pain while he was hitting the guy. Had he somehow gotten the chip removed?

Buffy decided it was time she found out what he was doing, who he was waiting for. She came out from behind the stairs and his eyes found her instantly, as if drawn to her. "Spike," she greeted warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Slayer..." he murmured. He smiled. "Remember when I told you we were going to have a confrontation? Well, the condition has been met."

Buffy was confused. "What? No, actually, I don't remember."

He scowled. "Oh, you're not pleading temporary amnesia for that night, are you? It was only a week ago you were here, breathing on me and squeezing my parts and driving me insane like the bitch you are." He mimicked her voice, "'Because it's wrong!'"

Buffy blinked. A week ago? She'd been Faith then! Oh, hell, what had Faith done? Apparently, driven the vampire insane! "Spike... I don't really remember a week ago. Faith switched our bodies for 24 hours. It was her who was... doing whatever she was doing to you."

Spike walked slowly towards her, his eyes hard and unreadable. She backed up a little as he invaded her personal space, but he just kept coming, until she was backed up against the wall with his body inches away from hers. He trapped her with his arms, leaning his hands against the wall on either side of her. Then he spoke. "I don't bloody care," he said, his voice grating. He took one more small step and closed the space between them, and Buffy gasped at the feel of his body full length against hers. "It was all stuff you would have said if you'd let yourself."

Buffy's heart was pounding. He was standing so close! She had never really seen his face at close range when they weren't fighting. His eyes weren't really just blue; they contained different colors radiating out from the pupil. She noticed the scar on his eyebrow and, without thinking, reached up and traced it with a finger. His eyes closed. She let her hand wander gently across his forehead to his sharp cheekbone, to his lips. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb... then realized what she was doing and dropped her hand. What on earth was wrong with her?

His eyes snapped open again, blazing. He lowered his head and caught her lips with his own, imprinting the taste of him on her over and over again. Buffy's memory blazed up at the touch, of when they were spell-bound and engaged to be married -- but at the same time, it was nothing like it. That time, their kisses had been sweet, tender, chaste.

This was nothing like that. This was raw, searing, a conflagration of passion. And, Buffy thought candidly, a long time coming.

When they finally parted, Buffy leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes to catch her breath. Spike took this opportunity to begin kissing and nibbling her throat.

A high school student walked by and snorted. "Geez, look at you two," she said. "Get a room, for heaven's sake!"

Spike growled, "Good idea. Let's go."

"My room," Buffy said, a little breathless. "Willow's gone." She didn't understand why Willow had been so insistant about going home, but now she was glad of it. She still didn't meet Spike's eyes, but kept hers downcast until they got to her dorm room. The walk across campus was odd -- they walked apart, not touching, but twice Spike grabbed her and kissed her brutally in the middle of the walkway. Then he growled and pushed her away as if she burned him.

They got to her room and there was silence. He sat down on the edge of Willow's bed, and she sat on hers. "Whoever you were waiting for at the Bronze is going to be disappointed," she said inanely.

"I hope she won't," he said with a slightly suggestive note in his voice. "It was you."

Now she met his eyes with shock, remembering how he'd treated all those other girls. He smiled. Buffy shook her head in wonder.

"Spike, what are we doing? And more importantly, why?"

"We're going to finally get what we've both been wanting." He slid off the bed and sat down beside her, tilting her face up to kiss. "We've wanted each other for years, haven't we, Slayer?"

She wanted to protest, but the silky feel of his lips on hers drowned out all her coherent thoughts. She tried to think of Riley, to save herself, but she only remembered why she had broken up with him. And here was Spike, who had been standing there at the bar waiting for her. For only her, and no one else would do.

She leaned into the kiss, her hands going around his neck. She tried to deny the truth of what Spike had said, but he was right. Just as he'd been right last year, about what he'd said to her and Angel. She was struck by a realization: he had wanted her, even back then! And, if she were brutally honest with herself, she'd been interested in him, too. The fight, with both of them on the same side, had been wildly exhilerating -- and in retrospect, she didn't think it had been just the adrenaline.

Adrenaline. She had it pumping through her veins this very moment. She broke away from the kiss. "No, Spike, this is wrong. It's all wrong."

He backed off and growled, instantly going vampiric. "If you're playing that game again, Slayer, I'll kill you."

"No, I just mean..." She pulled him to his feet and hit him in the stomach. "Fight?"

His eyes lit up and he smiled, his face going back into its smooth human planes. "I thought you'd never ask!" It had been months, literally, since they'd been able to fight, and he relished the chance. He struck her face. She kicked his head. He shoved her into the dresser. She recovered and kicked his legs from under him.

As he fell, he reached up and brought her down with him. He grinned. "If you wanted to be on top, Slayer, you only had to ask!" This brought him another punch in the face and an answering grin from the slayer. He rolled over, taking her with him, so he was on top now, straddling her hips and holding her down. His hard, lean body was pressed intimately against hers and his dark blue eyes bored into hers with an expression that was intense to the point of fanaticism.

Her hazel eyes were wide and dark, looking up at him. As if she were not the one in the submissive position, she licked her lips and asked, "Had enough?"

He shook his head. "Never." He claimed her lips again, and again. They moved to the bed, breathing hard, touching each other. Rough hard fists that had struck Buffy's body in the past opened now, sensitive, and roamed her curves and gently unfastened and unzipped her clothing.. Buffy's hands wandered up his chest, pushing his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders.

Then she stopped. She looked into his dark eyes and asked pointedly, "Are you going to be staying around after?"

He grabbed her and pulled her down next to him. "Slayer," he said, punctuating his words with kisses. "Haven't I proven to you yet," he nipped at her neck, "that you can't get rid of me if you try?"

Buffy relaxed into his caresses and soon forgot any misgivings -- or indeed, any thoughts she might have had, as her body moved with Spike's and the world became just the two of them.

Afterwards, when she expected him to be dressing and going out the door, he stayed in bed with her, holding her back against him and whispering to her. He somehow sensed her need for reassurance, especially after the terrible things he had said to her after he found out she'd been with Parker. He sensed she wouldn't believe him if he just told her she was wonderful; instead he changed the message to a Spike-style one and began cursing her past boyfriends in an erotic whisper.

"That Parker was a prick. He was a fool to let you go, but I'm glad he did. Your soldier boy was an idiot. He's too wholesome for you -- he's boring. He doesn't have the capacity to appreciate you. Neither did Parker. They couldn't appreciate you, but I can. I've been waiting for you, Slayer. I've loved you for years. Even when I hated you, I loved you. And now I don't even hate you anymore."

Buffy's head was spinning. Feelings toward Spike were surfacing that she hadn't known she possessed. She realized, at last, that he was exactly the man she had been wanting. They were very much alike, but just different enough to be complementary. And hearing her mortal enemy tell her he'd loved her for years made her remember once again when they had been spell bound. In her memory, she heard her own voice telling Riley, "We fought for all these years because we were trying to deny how we really felt!" She smiled, closing her eyes and nestling back against her lover's lean body.

She hadn't known sex could be like that! When she'd been with Parker and Riley, she'd had to concentrate so hard on not hurting them, she couldn't really just give in and enjoy the experience. Spike was different. He was as strong as she was, and just as passionate. She listened to his husky whisper and felt, for the first time in years, completely happy. She turned around in his arms to face him.

Then she noticed all the scars. They were everywhere on his body: over his shoulder and down his chest, criss-crossing his back and chest like a grid. Several spiralled down his legs and one particularly nasty one went all the way up and ended in a large patch of red, roughened skin on his inner thigh right next to his groin. Buffy gasped.

"Oh, my God, what happened to you, Spike?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Live as long as I do, you're bound to collect a few momentoes," he said.

"But these all look as though they happened the same time," Buffy persisted. "In recent years, too, from the looks of them."

Spike gave her a warning glance. "Slayer, pet, it's really none of your business." He tried to soften his message by placing a gentle kiss beside her mouth.

"Spike, someone hurt you. I'd like to know who so I can kick their ass," Buffy insisted.

"You really care about me that much, Slayer?" The serious expression in his eyes belied his teasing tone of voice. He lazily stroked down her back, shoulder to hip -- just to enjoy the fact that he finally could.

"I'm starting to think I can't do without you, Spike," Buffy replied honestly. "Which is why I want to prevent whoever gave you all those scars from ever hurting you again."

Spike smiled mischevously. "I'd be so grateful if you would, Slayer, since I don't think I can hurt this person anymore. Ever. At all."

"Who is it?" Buffy demanded.

Spike rolled onto his back and stretched out, folding his hands under his head. "Well, it all started when this hot little chit of a slayer took exception to my trying to kill her, and threw an organ at me." He grinned.

Buffy hit him with her pillow repeatedly, until Spike grabbed her and kissed her thoroughly into submission. "All right, all right, I won't throw organs at you anymore!" she said, smiling into his eyes. "So, I have to know," she asked him. "Am I worth a second go?"

For his answer, he took her again. And again. And just before dawn, he informed her, "You'll never be rid of me, Slayer." He fell asleep.

"Good," Buffy said quietly to his sleeping body, before drifting off herself. "I don't think I want to be."

The phone rang in the morning, waking both of them. Spike swore, but Buffy leaned over and picked it up.

"Buffy?" It was Willow.

"Yeah, Will. What's up?" Buffy tried to ignore Spike's hands caressing her body.

"I, uh, just called to see if you went to the Bronze last night."

Buffy gave the sleepy, growling vampire a rueful smile. "Yeah, and you'll never believe what I brought home with me."

"Oh, good!" Willow's excited voice carried easily to Spike's sharp vampire ears. "Hi, Spike!"

"Hey, Red," he drawled laconically. "Hang up, will you? I want to get back to what I was doing."

"Willow, what's going on?" Buffy demanded, ignoring Spike's attempts to hang up the phone.

"Uh, ask Spike. He can give you all the details. Bye!" Willow hung up.

Buffy snorted, disgusted. "I'll bet he can. Well, Spike?"

"Red made a condition to helping me get that chip out of my head. She linked my blood to yours with a spell -- so basically, I can't ever do anything you wouldn't do. I can't kill people, but I can hit hit them if I have to, to defend myself. I still have to drink blood, but at least I can get it from animals instead of buying it. I can still kill demons. I'm basically a male slayer who happens to still be a vampire."

"And where do I fit in?"

He smiled and touched a lock of her hair, curling it around his finger. His fingertips just barely brushed her cheek. "You're my humanizing influence. You're what keeps me from killing. I can't do anything you wouldn't do, so if by any chance you felt like becoming a serial killer... Just go with it!"

Buffy glared at him, but got sidetracked by his hair. Running her fingers through the dark wavy strands, she asked, "So, why the new look? I almost didn't recognize you in the Bronze, you know."

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, well, you know... New man, new life, new look." He looked up a little shyly. "Do you like?"

"Oh, I like," Buffy said. "I definitely approve." She thought a moment, then said, "I can see what you mean by 'new look,' and the 'new man' is because you've got the chip out. But what do you mean by new life?"

Spike sat up abruptly. "You're really one for the hard questions, aren't you, Slayer?" he said gruffly. He reached for his trousers and pulled them on, avoiding her detaining hands.

She stopped him and made him look at her. "If I ask hard questions, it's because they need answers, Spike. So answer! You said you wouldn't run away."

"Slayer, I don't want to tell you because I want you to decide for yourself! All right? I don't want that little witch arranging our whole lives for us without giving at least one of us a choice."

"How can I choose if I don't know what the choices are?" Buffy asked, her voice rising in anger.

Spike pulled away and grabbed his shirt, pulling it quickly over his head. He slipped his feet into the boots without bothering to lace them. "Talk to your roommate, Slayer. Have her tell you about the total balls-up she made of that spell. Then if you want to talk to me, come by the cemetery tonight. You know where to find me if you want me."

He headed for the door, then stopped and swore. He went back to her, grabbed the back of her head and kissed her hard and thoroughly. He said, "And remember what I said last night. It's the truth. See you later, Slayer."

And he was gone out the door, leaving Buffy sitting alone in her bed, her eyes full of angry tears. "Ass!" she grated, looking at the door. "You said you'd stay!" Angrily, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Willow? We need to talk."