Turn out the light
Just say good night, to yourself.
May I remind you, when you find you're all alone is when
You, You've got to be strong
That's when they call you, in the night
He's got your picture, in his mind
He's got your number, on a paper at his disposal anytime.
Is it really true?
Could you save yourself?
For someone who could love you for you
So many times we just give it away
To someone who, to someone who
You met at a bar
In the back of a car
And for a moment you felt important
But not in your heart
Cos my self esteem, it's been low
Go ahead and count, it's been lower than low
I know the feeling of it stealing right out from under me
Cos I want to learn
How you've saved yourself
For someone who could love you for you
So many times we just give it away
To someone who can't even remember your name
Could you save yourself?
For someone who loves you for you
And loves me for me
And give it away to someone who
To someone who could cherish your name
-J. Bunch, C. Evenson, J. Stockberger, R. Sellers, R. Pfeiffer Save Yourself

London, England, Watcher's Council Headquarters

The documents themselves were not hard to find. It was breaking through fifty-something year old plaster without alerting the guard, standing not more than 25 feet away, at the top of the stairs that was hard. Once in, Giles took everything he could grab and stuff into his duffle bags and his jacket. Most of the paper and papyri were old; the environment in the basement hadn't treated them well. Parchment, linen paper and even papyrus can take a lot of abuse but 50 odd years of dampness they will not, some were mildewed others were just turning to dust in his hands. Giles had figured someone had been in here since they were hidden so many years ago, but apparently no one had, at least no one with museum experience and the forward thought of mind to properly store these items. But if someone or something really was after the line, the watchers, even the Council itself, then these documents were no safer here than they would be in his car, or on the airplane or even in Sunnydale.

Once back at the estate, Giles carefully laid out the documents. The fragmented and delicate pieces were properly placed onto archival sheets, sticky with very mild glue, to piece them together here and then cover in a breathable clear cover, protection against further decay and fragmentation. The mildewed pieces were quickly cleaned. Not a terrific job a former museum employee should be proud of, but he had to hurry and do as best he could. The more sturdy pieces were placed into tubes and archival envelopes. All were carefully packed in a hard-sided suitcase, filled with books and anything he could find out about what was happening. Airport security had really gotten crazy lately, so he forged some proper documentation for the old pieces.

Some of the languages on the pieces he could not read. These items were given to Zaezilla for the Coven to decipher. They knew they were to contact him as soon as possible at Buffy's. Diana was the coven's languages specialist. She could convert almost any language living or dead to English. Giles had no time to explain to Zaezilla what these papers may be about, let alone hunt down Diana in the massive estate.

"Zaezilla, I really hate to burden you, but I can't find Diana, and I can't read some of these ancient languages. I really don't have much time. Could you get these pieces to her and see what she can do?"

"Sure Rupert, I think I can manage that. You are leaving so soon?"

"I have to, something's begun. I have to get to Sunnydale to gather the girls. They will be safe with Buffy, I hope."

"What's going on? What girls? Those two little girls who have been fighting their way through your day? Them?"

"Them, and others like them. They are special, they are potential slayers. If Faith dies any one of them could replace her. If there are no girls to replace her, the line is over, a dead end, then something awful could begin and there would be nothing left to stop it. Something has started attacking the line, I don't know what or who it is, but it is going after the potentials and their watchers. Do you think you could organize some locater spells to find others like them? It would be immensely appreciated. I had Willow hack in and steal a copy of the Council's list, but there are girls being called and recognized every day, some out there don't even know they are potentials."

"What makes these girls so different? How are they marked as potentials? How does the Council identify them?"

"There are many ways, they monitor hospitals, mental institutions, police reports, that sort of thing. Some of them are marked visibly, they have a large mole on their shoulder; others have visions, visions of past slayers, of vampires, future prophecies. Many of these girls end up in mental institutions; their families think they are going crazy. Others get into a lot of fights, and have heavy arrest records. All of them are a part of a line. Some have direct lineage, their grandmothers and mothers were potentials, just never called. Some have no idea they are apart of something this big. Mostly it's a blood line. The line has spread all over the world, the line heavily diluted, but it is still there underneath it all."

"Why are all of them so important? I mean if you save 5 of them isn't that enough to keep the line going?"

"No, that's the problem. A girl could miss her calling by days, minutes, hours. If Faith were to die on May 3rd, that could be Annabelle's day, but if she dies on the 5th it could be Molly. But if she dies at 5:30 pm on the 5th it could be some girl who we've never known about. That's the problem, we don't know who is next. Plus we can't lose the other girls, we need them to go out, get married, have babies, have daughters, and pass on the line. The Council sent out a message to the watchers that they are to send all girls to Sunnydale, but many of the watchers are gone, no replacements are being sent, the girls are basically just waiting to be picked off."

"So we are looking for marked girls, girls sharing blood? How were the last 2 or 3 identified?"

"Buffy had the mole, and later was institutionalized for about 3 weeks, the Council monitored her closely, when the slayer died, they sent Merrick to her. Merrick was killed and so I was sent to Sunnydale to find her. Kendra was born into a bloodline, she knew since she was a child. Faith had a police record a mile long, her grandmother had been known to be a potential, her mother was lost off the radar until she gave birth to Faith. Her parent's split, her mum disappeared again, her father beat her, and she ran away. We sent Chandler to watch her and take her in. She began training and then, well Kendra met her untimely demise. Then through a set of horrible circumstances Chandler died as well."

"So there are two active slayers?"

"Technically, no. Buffy is dead by all accounts, actually dead twice over. The first time she was resuscitated with CPR, the second time Willow raised her from the dead. Faith has been in prison for the last 2 or 3 years, so Buffy has been carrying on her duty after her time."

"Okay. We will need some blood from the girls you have with you so we can identify others. Why is this Faith in prison? You speak so painfully of her. You speak as if she is already dead."

"She killed a man, not her first, but this is the one she is taking her penance for. The Council tried to take her after the first one, to reform her, fix her. But she joined the other team. Buffy put her in the hospital, a coma for about 8 months. Then she woke up and started wrecking havoc again. Eventually she ended up in LA, where she tortured her watcher, Wesley, after killing a man and beating several others. Eventually she turned herself in, she's been in there since. She is sort of a sitting duck, just waiting to be picked off if the line is being attacked."

"We can contact her for you. We can warn her in a vision, like one of those prophecy dreams. She really should know her life is in jeopardy. As bad a girl she is, she does not to deserve to die because you didn't warn her."

"She won't trust a vision. I am not even sure she has ever had one. She's not the open type, willing to talk about things like that. Is there a way to get a letter to her, fast? She may trust that more."

"You know we can do that."

Giles quickly jotted down a note.

"Please get this off to her. I will have the girls come down here and give you blood samples. Let Diana know she can contact me at this number in the States. It is Buffy's house, if I am not there someone who can take a message will be. This is also where you should contact me about other girls."

"Yes, indeed. We will take care of these things. Is Willow leaving with you? You know she is nowhere near ready to leave."

"She has a week left, I need her back in Sunnydale. I know you will not be able to get all the lessons through, but she is so powerful and I will need all the help I can get."

"I don't think that is a good idea. She needs to stay here."

"I know, but she is of no use if she is here, we need her badly, otherwise all I have to work with is a twice dead slayer, another vampire with a soul, a 1,000 year old vengeance demon, a carpenter, and a key that doesn't open anything. It'd not much of an army without the witch. If Tara were still around, but well, you know, she's dead, so we need Willow."

"The coven could send one of us until she is ready."

"No, we need Willow, Buffy trusts her, well I think she still does. Willow is already familiar with the line, we need her emotional connection to the system."

"Fine, but if she goes all crazy again don't say we didn't warn you!"

California State Women's High Security Reform Facility

Faith's cell was small. After the first few weeks, the Wardens had learned that Faith didn't play or live well with others. She hadn't had a cellmate since, and thus ended up in a smaller single cell. Faith was the top of the food chain. No one messed with her. In the first few months the other inmates constantly tested her. She never lost a fight. A lesser girl would have been dead 3 years ago; slayer strength was a definite bonus in life, even if that life was behind bars.

Faith had few visitors. Angel showed up once in a while. Wes had stopped by once or twice. Even her lawyer stopped showing up. She didn't get any mail either. Once she got a letter from some long lost Aunt out east. Faith didn't know who this woman was, so she never wrote back, she wasn't much for writing anyway.

Days, months, years had ticked by, Faith had it good though. Being at the top had its advantages: free cigarettes, CD players, and magazines, anything she wanted. Penance was posh. Inmates kissed her ass, tried to get on her good side, get her to protect them. Faith didn't work for anyone but herself, as on the outside she was a lone gun in here.

"Yo Faith, How's it goin?"

"Five by Five"

The other inmate walked away. Faith looked down.

"Yo Angie! Come back here. Did you drop this in here?" Faith held an envelope in her hand, "Did this come for me at mail call? You know I stopped going."

"Nah Faith, I didn't drop nothin. I don't get much mail either, so I don't go too. See you in the yard later? I gotta go to therapy."

"Yeah, I'll see you later." Faith turned back around with the letter in her hands. No address was on it, just her name, in block letters: FAITH. It was as if the envelope had appeared out of thin air. This sort of thing wouldn't have surprised her on the outside, SunnyD was the Hell mouth after all, and LA was just, well weird. She cautiously opened it, careful of what could be inside it. A small piece of paper met her fingertips. She unfolded it:

Faith:
This is Giles. Something has come after the slayer line. We are looking into it. You are probably a target on the list. Be careful, watch your back, you are a sitting duck right now. Either Wesley or myself will be by shortly to update you. This is of the utmost importance, you are not the only target, and others have already been taken out. Be very careful Faith, your life and the slayer line may depend on it.
-Giles

She folded the note back up and stuffed it in the envelope. She hid it in her mattress. This was just the sort of thing the warden was looking for to put her in solitary. Some sort of ultra-cryptic note about a line and death and well, it was fodder for punishment.

No pressure, a destiny line going back thousands of years just depends on you not getting whacked. Good old Giles, always cryptic, always serious.

Faith wasn't that alarmed. A few years in prison, a few months in Sunnydale and a few days in L.A., and nothing surprises you. Her life was always in jeopardy; some new hot shot was always showing up and challenging her superiority. Faith always won. This, this was nothing to worry about, she could watch her back, hell no one else ever had.

Faith laid back on the thin mattress which had come to be her bed, put on her headphone and cranked up the music. She lit a cigarette and started bobbing her head to the music. From a foot away one could hear the music radiating from her ears: London calling, upon the zombies of death, Quit holding out-and draw another breath...

Sunnydale, California

Dinner was over, Xander and Anya had gone back to their respective apartments. Xander told her to call if Spike attacked her, as if Xander could save Buffy. Spike and Dawn were playing rummy and watching Nazi's on the History channel. Buffy slowly cleaned up, it was hard being Joyce, playing mom, being responsible for someone besides herself. The phone rang.

"BUF-FY, Phone's for you, its Giles AGAIN!"

"Dawn, here is so no reason to yell, I am like one room away!" She picked up the kitchen phone. "Okay Dawn you can hang up now." She heard the familiar click. "To what do I owe the honor? Two phone calls in one day? Did someone die?"

"Buffy, no one is dead, I am going to be arriving sooner than I planned. I am leaving today"

"Is it tomorrow over there or today? Cos its like Thursday over here."

"It's Friday here. You should be expecting me and three maybe four girls by Saturday."

"Saturday my time or your time?"

"Your time maybe? Yes, your time."

"Thanks for the heads-up this time. Much better than having a screaming vampire show up on my porch in the middle of the day."

"Buffy I apologize for that, I didn't know where Willow was sending him. Buffy, I warned Faith to keep her eyes open and be extra careful. You should do the same."

"What? Go warn Faith? I am not driving like 2 hours north to tell a homicidal maniac, 'Be Careful'"

"No, I meant watch yourself. Be careful. I wouldn't go patrolling until I can tell you more about what's going on."

"O-kay... Giles you are starting to freak me out. I mean first you send Spike back to help me and watch me, and now you are warning me again about something. What's going on?"

"Buffy, I have some minor details, but I can't go into it over the phone."

"Okay, so it's so bad, that the phone lines can't handle it? What are the details so hot it may melt international communication lines?"

"Buffy, stop being smarmy. I need you to call L.A. and have Wesley meet me at your house on Saturday. Can you get a hold of him for me?"

"Yeah of course, he's at Angel's still."

"I need to get going, these girls are driving me insane! They are part of the reason I need to get out of here, the other is I think England won't be safe for us much longer. These girls are going to drive me to an early grave."

"Not the fatherly type are you?"

"No, definitely no. I already did that."

"So when does your flight come in? You will need your official Scooby, well Quasi-Scooby welcoming party. If it's at night we may even be able to convince Spike to drive the Joyce-mobile. You know how he hates fluorescent lights, but I bet we could convince him to enter the airport for you!"

"It's okay, we will take a cab, I can't have us causing a scene. It's just not safe to have all of you in such a public place. By the way how is Spike? Back at his crypt yet? How is it going? Are you okay?"

"Things are fine Giles. He isn't going back to the crypt. Clem turned it into Spike's personal hell, it's very Teen Beat. He is stopping by to grab some stuff he had left there; you know weapons, clothes, that sort of thing. He is going to be staying at Chateau Summers."

"Is that wise? I mean Buffy..."

"I'll explain it when you get here, It's not something I can go into over the phone." Buffy mocked Giles in her best holier-than-thou Giles voice.

"You mock me because you know I am right."

In the background Buffy could hear girls fighting and screaming Giles' name. "Maybe I should let you go, it sounds like World War III is about to break out."

"You are probably right. I will see you on Saturday, take care, and be safe. Good-bye."

"Bye".

Buffy hung up the phone. Giles was starting to worry her. How bad did it have to be for Giles to contact Faith? She picked the phone back up to call Wesley. She still knew the number by heart even though she rarely called it anymore.

"Angel Investigations, this is Lorne, I'll be your host this afternoon, how can I help you?"

"Hey Lorne, is Wesley there?"

"Hey kitten! Buffy, how are you? I had a feeling it was you."

"Hey, things are okay I guess. How about you?"

"Things are just fantastic! You wanna say hi to Cordelia? Angel?"

"No, that's okay, I really just need to talk to Wes."

"Well, Wes isn't here right now. He went out to pick up our Chinese a while ago, and if he isn't back with my Kung-pow Chicken I am going to make him pay!"

"Pay?"

"Yeah, four hours of nothing but Celine Dion songs. Think that'll do it?"

"God, I think that'd be enough to make someone's head explode."

"Maybe just that Titanic song over and over, yeah that would be even worse."

"I would have to agree."

"Angel is here, wanna say hello to the big brooding puppy?"

"No, that's okay, can you just have Wes give me a call as soon as he gets back. It's really important. If he doesn't come back I need you to call me, like immediately."

"Okay toots. So, how's the good old Hell mouth?"

"Oh, you know the usual, lots of baddies thinking they are the baddest, right before I kill them. OH! Dawn is headed back to school soon. The new High School is like right on top of the Hell mouth, just like the last one."

"High School being Hell takes on a whole new meaning around there doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Well, have Wes call me when he gets in, its really important, I need to tell him something from Giles."

"You got it! I will tell him, you have my word. Have a good night."

"Thanks Lorne, take care."

She hung up the phone and sensed someone behind her.

"Who you talking to?" Spike asked as he walked past her to the refrigerator.

"Oh, no one, that was Lorne. I needed to talk to Wesley but he wasn't there."

"Wesley, as in the guy who works with Angel in LA?"

"Yeah, he's Faith's watcher, well I guess unofficial watcher. Can you still be someone's watcher after they have tortured you?"

"Don't know, pet. So did you talk to..."

"No I didn't talk to Angel."

Spike grabbed a soda and some dip out of the refrigerator, and set is on the counter, looking for the chips.

"I don't care if you had, you know, talked to him."

"Okay, well, Wes is going to call me when he gets in. Giles needs me to talk to him."

"You can talk to Angel, that's fine with me, you know that right?"

"Spike, What's the problem? I didn't call to talk to Angel, hell I haven't really talked to him since I came back. It was all weird when I did. I think he's kinda with Cordelia, and there is that kid he had with Darla, and well, his life is so messed up, that I sorta can't bring myself to talk to him."

"Him and Darla have a kid? That's just not possible."

"Apparently in LA anything is possible. Anyways, so what's with the snacks?"

"The platelet is hungry, I was grabbing some stuff for her, she is overly involved in the Blitzkrieg. When did she become such a history buff? If I get one more, tell me about World War II question I may have to lock her in a bomb shelter."

"I don't know what that's all about. I mean I know she didn't get the interest from me, cos history, eechhhh! So not my deal. I don't think we have a bomb shelter anyways."

"The sewers'll do fine then." He smiled at her; it had always seemed so odd when he smiled at her. She half expected him to vamp out and come after her like the old days.

"I think I am going to run over to the crypt and grab my things. I was going to occupy her with the snacks and run before the questions started again."

"Ummm, do you think you can wait until, say, Saturday? Cos Giles just called again, and whatever is going on is serious, he wants me to stop patrolling until he gets here. He has never wanted me to stop patrolling. He contacted Faith somehow, he wants me to have Wesley come up here to meet him, Spike, this is seriously starting to worry me. I mean he was all Apocalypse-y on me, but usually that involves more jokes."

"I guess I can wait, I just wanted some clothes, and to dig up the wine I hid downstairs. Trust me, the last thing we want is Clem finding that, he gets all weepy when he's drunk, I mean have you ever seen anything with that much skin crying like a little girl? Its awful, the stuff nightmares are made of. We can just wash the clothes I have, I mean they are getting a bit rank even for my standards."

"Yeah, you know where the washer is, go throw your stuff in it."

"Remember what happened last time I went near the laundry? I believe it involved a Hawaiian shirt and some sort of short pants. No, I used to pay someone to do my laundry, I'm not going near that bloody machine."

"Then give me your stuff and I'll do it. I am sure Dawn has changed her clothes enough in the last two days to create a pile worth doing."

Dawn walks into the kitchen. She stops and stares at them.

"Am I interrupting something? Cos I can so turn around right now."

"What?" Buffy didn't realize that her and Spike were not more than a few inches away from each other. "No, we're just talking about laundry."

"Laundry? I am not a kid anymore! I mean if you were talking about sex or something you can just say it. I just want my chips and soda."

"We were actually talking about laundry, niblet. Here's your food."

"So Spike, were you ever in a Nazi bunker? I mean they all had bunkers, not like the English though, they had bomb shelters, and the fat guy had that war room in the basement of that place."

"Dawn, I never was in a Nazi bunker. The fat guy's name is Winston Churchill. I told you I spent most of that war in hiding, I mean all those bodies, we didn't even need to kill to feast like kings. Plus Drusilla went bug shaggin' crazy every time a bomb hit, we pretty much stayed out of the way, headed to America half way through it on a boat."

"Spike! Don't tell her about eating war victims!"

"Why not? She is well aware I was once a fierce vampire with a thing for the human blood. She's not daft."

"It's okay Buffy, I can handle it."

"Whatever. Spike, get me your clothes I'll wash them. Dawn go, go, go stare at the TV and learn more about bunkers or whatever."

Dawn grabbed her food and left the kitchen.

"Um, Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Half the clothes I currently possess are on my body right now."

A wicked smile passed over Buffy's face, as she walked towards him. Grabbing his shirt she says, "Well I guess that we'll just have to find some way to get you out of them."

"Buffy..." Spike starts to back away.

"Spike, come here, I don't bite... hard."

"What's gotten into you Summers?"

"Nothing, don't stare at me like I'm on fire, okay? How does this sound? You go upstairs, run a bath, cos damn, you are a bit ripe, use Willow's bathroom. Put your clothes outside the door Mr. Modesty and I'll wash them while you bathe. Is that okay?"

"Fine, that'll work. I just don't want to rush into anything that you'll regret. I mean Buffy, I attacked you, and you act like it never happened."

"I know it happened, but I'm over it, you should be too. Now go, upstairs with you!"

Spike sulked off like a wounded dog. Why can't he just believe me? Why can't he trust me? Buffy wondered.

I must be losing it. This cannot be happening. This honestly isn't happening. This is some sort of twisted dream courtesy of the soul.

Spike hadn't been haunted all day. The voices, the scream,s the visions, all had ceased. Keeping busy must do that. But now alone in the bathroom, with nothing but silence they were back. Today wasn't supposed to work out like this. She was supposed to hate him, she was supposed to loathe him, kick his ass to the curb, but she hadn't.

The hot water felt good on his cold flesh. He always preferred a bath; the total submergence into heat was something of a comfort, made him feel almost alive. The after effect was good too, his flesh could stay warm, feel alive, for about a half hour afterwards. Spike hadn't felt this alive in years, but still behind it there was the torture of the soul.

He closed his eyes. Behind his lids he could see them, all different eras, countries, but all the same look of terror as they realized what was about to happen. The noises also came back, not just screams: the rip of flesh under his teeth, the empty wheeze of a last breath, the cries of infants abandoned in cribs when mothers were dead. Spike, when out alone, spared the children if possible; with Dru or Darla around he couldn't, but alone he could.

Dru loved tearing into infants, she went at them with the fury of a starving child with a lone ripe plum. Letting the juices trickle down her neck, letting the blood run warm down her ivory neck, begging Spike to lick it off. She would often hold the infants for hours afterward. Spike would often have to drag her out of a house because dawn was coming, and she didn't want to leave. Dru even seemed to haunt him, not her actually, but what he had let her do, what he stood by and let her do. Wiping out whole orphanages in Russia, treating flower girls on street corners as if they were her personal chalices, cleaving paperboys in the predawn streets of London, she loved children so. They all came back to him, children, women, men, all of them they all howled at him now, their corpses chasing his thoughts, driving him towards madness.

Stop it, leave me alone, let me have a spot of peace, I am atoning, I am trying, please just let me go!

Spike shook himself out of it when the knocking began.

"Spike? Spike, are you okay? Say something! Stopping messing with me, say something!"

"What?" Spike stood up and wrapped the towel around his waist. Another he grabbed to dry off his upper body and hair. He opened the door to see Buffy standing there.

"What the hell was going on? I have been out here pounding on the door for like 10 minutes! I mean I know you can't drown, and you're already dead, but I was worried that something happened." She walked into the bathroom, past him. "So what was going on?"

"I must have zoned out or something. You know lost in thought, that sort of thing. It's all right I'm snapped out of it now. You got my clothes?"

"That's sort of the thing. The dryer is acting up and Xander can't look at it 'til tomorrow."

"Bloody hell. Brilliant. So I have either no clothes or sopping wet clothes, am I right?"

"You're not wrong."

"Can you send Dawn off to the crypt to grab me something to wear? I mean this big bad isn't after her, so she should be safe, Clem can walk her home."

"Already done. She left a few minutes ago. She'll probably hang out there for a while; they watch Dawson's Creek reruns a lot. They just love Pacey."

"So, what, I am supposed to wander around with no pants for the next few hours? Great. This is just perfect, first the spirits, now no pants, this is just too good."

"The spirits?"

"Side-effect of the soul. I am sure Angel told you about them, he's all in touch with his feelings like that. You sort of get haunted by the people you killed, you get to sort of relive the atrocities you're committed; it's part of the bargain. You as a vampire get a soul, and you have to reconcile the dead in you. Not a lot of fun, but Giles gave me some sleeping pills so I can at least get through the night, I hadn't slept in weeks until I got a hold of him."

Spike didn't realize Buffy had walked up behind him. She put her hand on his back, and wrapped the other around him.

"I'm sorry that you have to deal with that. You're warm. Is that a side effect of the soul too? You get all warm like? Angel wasn't warm, but his soul was a bit more temporary."

"No, that's the bath, pet. Like a cold-blooded lizard I am, you put me in hot water I warm up for a while. It's only temporary."

Feeling her pressed up against him made him feel warm inside too. This was one of the things having a soul did, it made you fill up with joy, it warmed your insides. He could smell her, as the day wore on her scent only grew deeper. That was the thing about people; they didn't know how good they smelled, not just their blood, their bodies as well. He could feel her breath, and her cheek against his back, he could barely detect their warmth, it was more that he just knew they were there.

"Spike?"

"What Buffy?"

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"What? No, I don't want to have sex with you, how many times do I have to..."

"No I just mean lay there, with me. Just lay there, not doing anything."

"Well, I don't know if that's such a good idea, I mean the little bit might get the wrong idea."

"She'll be gone for hours." She started pushing him towards the door. Once out she pulled him into Willow's bed, Tara's bed.

"Not here."

"Why? I can smell them here. I can smell Red and Tara, if this is going to happen, it'll be in your bed, where all there is is you."

"Okay, come on." She grabbed his hand, hers was so tiny in his. When they entered the room he felt at ease, the sight of the iron bed, the windows, this was his Buffy. On each side of the bed like Sentries stood the statues he had brought her. "I'll be right back, just get in bed."

He settled in, he had so longed to be here, in this bed where Riley and Angel both got to hold her, be with her, near her. It was nearly pitch black in her room; she had drawn her shades and curtains. He figured it was because of all that day sleeping a slayer must do. He heard her come back into the room. Spike turned from her, laid on his side under pounds of blankets. He felt her get into the bed as well, the warmth on his skin was beginning to fade, just enough that he could tell her heat before he felt her. She sidled up to him, and that is when he realizes, she's naked. Her small arm curls over his body and she intertwines her legs with his.

"This is nice," Buffy whispers at him "you still feel so warm."

"Buffy..." Spike began to object, this wasn't right.

"Shhhh... Be quiet, turn around, just hold me, I'm tired William, I am just so tired."

She let go of him and rolled over, he followed her lead. It always got him when she called him William. He pulled himself close to her, wrapped his arm around her, resting his hand on her collarbone. He pushed his right leg in between hers, she slunk lower so her head was at his chest level, and wrapped her arm over his. Spike closed his eyes, and they curled their bodies together. Just laying there, just being still, only listening to her breathe, her heart pounding away pushing all that blood through her, feeling her relax, beneath him. Yes, I must be losing my mind.