Hello! Beg the pardon of everyone frowning over the updates being a week apart. Right now there's just nothing I can do about it! I am trying my best to make them closer in between, be sure of that. Alright, here goes.

Many warm thanks to effulgentgirl (Heh, true. And most happy to oblige. :) I love that you're loving it as much now as you did in the beginning! That is exactly what I'm striving for and it makes me feel more than good to know I'm doing it right! Yay!) :), ReeseAnn (hah-hah. "Shut-the-hell-up". And yeah, with the wording, but hey, got what you meant. :) Happy you liked!) :), Anyanka0705 (Nobody likes Riley. It's a fact, isn't it? A welcomed one, because... shiver! Suffice to say, I don't like him either. And hey, Spuffy for survival sounds alright to me. Breathe it in, breathe it out, breathe it in.) ;)

Aisling-Siobhan (Here's a bit more. And poor weasel, eh?) ;), sPIKEaNDmE (hah, that's funny. Did you know that in the BtVS original movie there's a character named Andy – the preppie yuk-yuk who Buffy first goes out with, and then there's this mysterious, bad ass guy who later becomes the love interest – named Pike. Now, look at your pen name. Get it:) And you won't know what's up with the last line until... you read following chapter. :P Thanks!) :), w1cked angel (Well, did you see her setting them up in the beginning of the season? s Neways, explanations up ahead, I believe. :) Hah, pattern, eh? Ain't it always the way with Buffy, huh? Oh, no, have it been screaming this whole time!) ;)

Kim (Interesting comments, my friend. I'll be looking forward to reading what you thought of this chapter!) :), MaidenRo (Nope, nothing posted twice. Ugh, I really don't enjoy writing it, I have to say. But what can you do? Or I do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Of course, I could kill him off. But hoooow should I do it? Any creative suggestions? smirk Luv ya too, girl!) :), AngelBuffyFluffin (Have to ask about the name. Don't mind it at all, but you a Spuffy shipper or what? Just wondering, I don't see many of those around my stories. smile You are most welcome, either way, especially since you're not flaming me. :) And wow, don't feel like you have to review every chapter. I would love to know your thoughts, of course! But really, only if you want to! Very happy you enjoyed it!) :)

Scarlet Ibis (That's quite funny, when you think about it. I'm glad you enjoyed the scene! Hope you'll like what's up ahead!) :), Brunettepet (Hey, good to see you back! And yeah, three chapters, but they aren't being spat out at a normal pace right now. Agitating! For me, more than you, I'm sure! Glad you liked the pig/truffle exchange:) Thanks for that, very nice to read you approved of the fight scene. Indeed. And...) :), SinisterChic Heather Martin (hey! Been a long time since I saw your name! Great to see it, though! And happy you liked it! Here's some more!) :)

To all, many thanks! Hope to see you soon!

A.M.L, Annie.

¤

Spiraling

¤

She was kicking herself. She was so angry that she shook as she marched her way through the cemetery. A truce! What the hell had she been thinking? She had been happy last night. At peace. As though things were coming together. She had had such mixed emotions for the vampire lately, and after he saved her life she had just known that she couldn't go on the way they had. She hadn't wanted to meet him and every single time feel like the fighting took over their entire encounter simply because a subtle understanding between them was too fantastic to comprehend. So, she had sought out to rectify it, by declaring that understanding out loud. Oh, dear Lord, what a moron she was.

She slowed down before his door, feeling the first gush of tears rise in her eyes and she admitted that she was disappointed. She was so damn disappointed it was choking her. She got a hold on herself, though, and walked up to the door.

He's not here, she told herself.

And she was right.

So she turned around and began running. No matter what, she needed to have this final confrontation. She wanted him to look her in the eye and deny it. Deny what he was. And she would laugh at him. She would look at him one last time and then she would leave and never look back. It would be exhilarating, and liberating. She'd be free of him at last.

She checked the Bronze, then Carmine's and finally Willy's. Nothing.

At this point she began to slow down her pace. The fury was still seething black holes within her, but it was calming a little. Her sight clearing. She was the fool here. It was so clear. She had been blinded by the chip, by the fact that he couldn't kill anymore. She had seen him as harmless, and it had taken over her entire view of him. And he had kept telling her that he was bad. That he was a thing of evil. And she hadn't listened.

She was judging him, and by all goddamn right she was! She damn well knew right from wrong, or she wouldn't have been put in the position she was. She wouldn't have gotten as far as she had. She wouldn't be able to make the decisions every day, that the position she was in required of her. This was the perfect bloody example! Goddamn it!

She stopped as she looked up and her eyes met his. He seemed surprised, but the warmth he had adopted as of late, when his gaze rested in hers, was soon seeping into them and she felt a knife turn in the middle of her chest, firing the anger right back up again. He noticed her expression, and a frown settled on his brow. There were twenty feet separating them, and she felt like it was lava and canyons and oceans and worlds that rested in that space.

She finally asked, voice low:

"Who's the Doctor?"

He stared at her. He could see she was in no way kidding. This was bad. Bloody hell.

"Depends on where you heard the term. I know a few at the hospital who..."

"Stop," she said. "Just... stop. Tell me who the Doctor is."

He drew an unnecessary breath.

"You wouldn't be standing there, glaring at me, if you didn't already know. Would you?" he then replied.

"I guess not," she said.

They stood in silence for a long while and then she asked:

"You don't have anything else to say to me?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"What am I supposed to say, Slayer?" he asked. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated, her voice quivering with emotion. "It's nothing? You're dealing in magicks that you have no way to control!"

"Trinkets," he corrected.

"No," she shook her head, "not in the wrong hands."

"And how the hell would you know?"

"Because I followed you!"

His face became traced with indignation.

"So the truce was nothing but smoke and mirrors?" he murmured.

"No, the truce was real. I just didn't trust it," she replied. "And boy, was I right."

He huffed.

"You're a real piece of work, know that, Slayer?"

"It's how I was made," she said. "And the 'trinket' you sold was gonna be part of a spell to 'gain power and self-confidence'. You told me yourself how tricky spells are, half of the time they go berserk. Willow's living proof of that. And you stand there, telling me that it's nothing! You're a simple crook, Spike. A peddler of stuff that is so clearly well beyond your limited ability of comprehension."

"It's what I do! It's what I know!" he retorted, coming a few steps closer to her. "So I'm the bleeding middle man, so what! Who cares?"

"I do," she replied. "I care. About the people those spells might hurt. About the demons you're helping. I care. You can't keep doing this."

"And why the hell not?" he demanded. "I'm leaving."

He stopped at that, his gaze fierce in hers as he took her in, and then he seemed to pause, reflecting for a few moments before he continued:

"You never had any intention of letting me go."

"What?"

"The chip comes out and we're in for one last, good fight, isn't that right?"

She swallowed hard, not believing what she was hearing.

"Is that what you really think? That I could do that? That I... planned it?"

Her voice broke and she looked away from him.

"Why shouldn't you?" he asked. "I'm just another demon. I've seen the truth of your craft, Slayer. I've seen it in your eyes too many times not to understand how deep the intuition goes. You know what I am. You've always known. Tonight – wasn't a shock. And this isn't supposed to be what it is, it's not supposed to be this way, any of it, I know that. What I feel for you... is wrong. God, I'm not completely daft, Buffy. I know you could never love me. But I also know you could never set something like me loose in the world."

She stared at him now, then knitted her brow slowly.

"Then why did you say yes to the surgery?" she asked.

He met her gaze, and then merely smiled a little before shrugging.

"Maybe I wanted that last, good fight," he said. He paused, wanting so much to touch her, wanting her to understand how much he felt for her, but realizing she never would. She couldn't. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked. "Is that what you want?" She blinked, uncomprehending. "To hell with the chip. I'll go tomorrow," he then stated. "If you ask me to."

She felt herself slow down, her feelings drained away.

"Please," she then said, "go."

He tilted his head a little to the side, the warmth back in his gaze before he gave a small nod and in the next blink he was out of sight. She stared at the empty spot he had left behind and felt herself start to shake. She made herself walk forward, and soon the shaking was controlled to soft spasms of trembling.

¤

Spike stayed out of sight for a long enough time to make sure any tingle he might give off in her spider senses wouldn't occur. Then he followed. He moved at her side, watching her through branches and appearing and disappearing behind houses until they neared the campus; then he went ahead and waited, watching her walk up to the door of her dorm. Suddenly she paused, and he slid into the shadows behind the tree he was standing by. She looked his way for the longest time, then seemed to shake it off and went inside.

He glanced around the trunk, drawing a slow breath and sighing deeply.

¤

"Well, this should keep them apart, shouldn't it?"

Ath glared at her big brother as he entered the living room.

"I thought we had more time."

"I wonder when you will ever learn to listen to me."

"And I wonder when you will ever learn to listen to yourself. Your intuition must be higher developed than what I've seen, and yet you cast that genius spell, didn't you! You don't get the privilege of passing blame, Cale."

He grumbled something before joining at her side as they gazed out of the window, over the roofs, across streets and through gardens in order to find the vampire.

"He's leaving," Ath said.

"Looks like it. I never would have thought it."

"Obviously."

She hesitated, then headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To stop him."

Calor grabbed her arm the next instant.

"You can't do that."

"Father will skin us alive if that vampire leaves this town, don't you understand that? Bortha has the power to strip us of our immortality and then what will we do with ourselves? Go to college? Settle down and raise a family? Does any part of a mortal life appeal to you, Cale?"

"It seems to appeal to you."

"Is that the best answer you can come up with?" she shot. "I am not willing to sacrifice everything for it," she added. "My place is where it has always been. Where I'm needed."

"Did father tell you that's what he will do?"

"No, but he said it's one of the possibilities."

"Even so, why didn't he tell me?"

"You'll have to take that up with him, Cale."

"Why didn't you tell me, then?"

"Because I didn't want to put more pressure on you. But now... all may be lost. Let me see the vampire; perhaps there's something I can do to stop him from making this mistake."

Calor looked at his sister, letting the new information settle slightly and then getting himself together.

"If you were to go to Spike's crypt, what would you say? 'Don't go'? He won't listen to you. He's already suspicious enough as it is. You can't tell him the truth, or it would undoubtedly alternate the fabric of what we've come here to make sure will come to pass. We cannot intervene, Ath. And I know that you know that."

He let her arm go and she took a step back, then sighed.

"What other choice do we have? Rather take the chance of alternating something, than to have him disappear and not be here at all!"

"Ath, you know better than that."

"I will not fail this!"

"Nor will I. But if it's meant to be, there's nothing we can do to prevent it. He'll find his way back, Ath. Later, if not sooner. You cannot fight Fate."

Ath sunk down on the couch.

She had never felt so empty.

"Now, admit it," Calor said with a small smile. "There are things you would miss."

Ath returned his smile meekly.

"There are things I would miss," she relented.

Then her face lit up. Calor took the expression in, not entirely sure he liked the look of it.

"What?"

Ath rose and walked into the kitchen. Calor slowly followed.

"What?" he repeated as she began to take things out of the pantry.

"He's going to bed," she said. "He's sleepy. Sun's almost up anyway. He won't leave until tonight." She slammed the flour down on the counter determinedly. "We have one more day."

"To what? I've been trying to turn this over so I can see it from the right light, Ath, but how do you propose we manage this? Making him want to stay and her want him to stay without them staying here together? It's impossible. Pandora's box has been opened and, unfortunately, they both seem to like the contents. It's not like they can put a lid on all of it."

Ath began to measure sugar in a cup, ignoring him.

"Ath."

"Be quiet. This is delicate work, I don't need distractions." She met his gaze when he refused to leave. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll figure it out. That's why we're here, right?"

He didn't seem very enthusiastic about that reply.

¤

The next morning Buffy woke, looking up at her ceiling and feeling like she was still in the dream that must've woken her. Then it suddenly dawned on her that the dream hadn't been a dream. She sat up, looking around the room. Then she smiled, shaking her head. No. He wouldn't leave. Not that easily. Not with the chip intact. There was no way.

There was a knock on the door and she tensed, then it opened and Ath walked through it, a basket covered with a checkered piece of cloth in hand. She smiled a sunny smile, closing the door behind her and then coming up to the bed. She looked extremely fresh in a light blue summer dress, her hair in pretty locks spilling over her shoulders and a healthy glow on her cheek. Buffy wanted to glare, but couldn't bring herself to it.

"Good morning," the goddess chirped.

"Yes, it looks like it," Buffy said. "What's in the basket?"

Ath grabbed a corner of the cloth and demonstratively pulled it off in a ta-da fashion before she said:

"Muffins."

"Really?" Buffy wondered. "You're just teasing."

"No," Ath shook her head, putting the basket down on the bed. "Blueberry."

Buffy grabbed one, sitting up. Ath watched her break a piece of the moist cake before putting it in her mouth, an approving look coming over the Slayer's features, which had Ath smile. Then she sat down next to the blonde.

"What are you doing today?" the former asked.

"Not much," Buffy shrugged. "I thought I'd take it easy for a change."

"You can do that?"

"Amazing, isn't it?"

Ath smiled again.

"You don't have anything else to do today?"

"It's glorious Sunday, time for rest," Buffy replied. "I do have to study, but I'm trying to forget that," she added.

"It sounds nice. Self-orientation. I really liked Riley, by the way. It was nice to meet him. All your friends were great."

"Thanks," Buffy smiled. "I did the picking."

Ath smirked.

"And the Bronze... Big on the liking."

"It's quite likable, I find," Buffy nodded.

"Great music. Great dancing..."

Buffy glanced at her, then squared her shoulders, swallowing the last of her muffin and smiling. Images of the last dance she had shared with Spike on that dance floor shuffled lazily through her brain, his mouth next to her ear asking her if she wanted to leave. Her immediate response to him... A fifteen year olds thoughts of the perfect first time, thinking it would be with him. Being so ready. And now she had to wonder... no, she had to admit that it hadn't merely been her younger self responding to him with such ease; it had been all of her.

"Yes," she now replied to Ath, "the music's always... great."

She pushed her covers off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stretching as she rose and walked up to her closet. There was silence for a little while, then Ath inquired:

"Anything happen last night?"

"No, not really," Buffy shrugged.

"Were you out late patrolling?"

"Yes, it got a bit later than I'd planned, but on the other hand I got a lot done. It was pretty eventful, actually."

"Oh?"

Buffy clenched her jaws together, then turned to the other hesitantly.

"The guy you danced with at the Bronze," she said slowly. "He's a vampire."

"I knew that," Ath said.

"Oh. Well, then you might also already know that that was the guy I was talking about... The one that wasn't Riley." Ath merely cocked an eyebrow in wait for the Slayer to continue. "Spike," Buffy finally said, coming back up to the bed. "That's his name, if you can believe it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well, his actual name's William, but I'm sure he wouldn't want anyone to call him that now. He's so dark and bad and evil," she muttered.

"Really?" Ath repeated, this time sounding slightly amused.

Buffy looked at her, then leaned forward, resting her forehead in her hands.

"Last night I found out something about him that I hadn't even considered a possibility," she grumbled. "I'd told myself for too long that he'd gone housebroken. I'd forgotten that even the nice puppies can go all bite-y. And I'll stop this analogy right now; I can't even begin to tell you how wrong it is to put Spike in the likeness of a puppy. I just... I feel so stupid. And so... let down by him. Why do I have to feel like that? What the hell did I expect?"

Ath reached out a hand and gently placed it on Buffy's back, softly letting it run up and down her spine.

Suddenly Buffy felt a burning sensation where Ath's palm was and she jerked just as Ath quickly removed her hand, looking guiltily at the Slayer. Buffy was about to ask what for, when Ath beat her to it, rising before saying:

"Buffy, Spike might not be the brightest shining star in the sky, but even the most spotted light deserves a chance to fight the darkness."

With that she left, silently praying that whatever happened would buy more time.

Buffy looked at the door as it closed, perplexed; then she shifted her gaze to the still remaining basket and after a moment's contemplation she reached out, grabbing another muffin.

¤

"It is ridiculous that I can't even hint at what I want to get across to her!" Ath exclaimed, making her father turn to face her.

"Ath, in this place we do not raise our voice."

"How are we supposed to get her to understand, when we can't even shove her in the right direction!"

"And here I thought you were doing a wonderful job at it," Bortha smiled.

She shook her head.

"Is this a game, father? I feel as though I am a Dwindle piece being blown about by unseen forces."

"It is called life, daughter," Bortha replied.

"Why can't I ease her out of her doubts and fears? Last time it worked almost as planned. I didn't think that was outside the guidelines, but you hurt my hand," she said the last accusingly, massaging her left hand with her right.

"Use your head, child."

And with that he sent her back to Earth.

She opened her eyes with a slight snarl, kicking the nearest tree.

"Ath?"

She stopped, collected herself and turned to face Jonathan.

"Hi," she smiled. "I... saw a spider," she added. "Terrifying little critters, aren't they?"

Jonathan smirked at that. They began walking side by side.

"So... about that Bronze thing we talked about. Does Tuesday work for you?" he wondered.

She looked at him, swallowing.

"Sure," she mumbled.

They were quiet for a little while and then he slipped one hand in hers, linking their fingers together.

"Good," he said.

"Yes, good," she agreed, smiling slightly.

It was a strange emotion which followed that small gesture of his. Warmth and flowing excitement. She felt as though he wanted to be there, and she wanted to be there, and so they were there together. And it was the best feeling she had yet experienced. She turned her head to look at him and before she knew why, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He looked surprised, but then smiled as she did so.

She stepped closer to him and they kept walking in comfortable silence.

¤

Tara and Willow came into the room at nine-thirty that evening, finding Buffy asleep at her desk. Willow made an awww-face and Tara smiled.

"Should we wake her?" she whispered.

Willow checked her watch, then tentatively stepped up to her friend, shaking her shoulder gently and leaning forward, softly saying:

"Buffy." Buffy moaned. "Buffy... It's late."

The Slayer's head shot up, hitting Willow on the nose and making the Wicca take a few uncertain steps backward, massaging the sore spot as Tara came up to give her support.

"How late?" Buffy asked, grabbing the clock standing on one of the shelves of her desk and peering at it. "Oh, great," she said. "Now I can sleep!"

She got to her feet and turned to the other two, then grabbed her coat and headed for the door, stopping and walking back to get a stake. She eyed it and then tucked it at the small of her back. Heading back up to the door, she walked through it, closed it, and then opened it again, sticking her head in:

"I'm going on patrol."

She closed the door, then opened it once more, saying:

"Is your nose okay? I'm so sorry."

"I'm fine," Willow nodded.

The door closed again and then it opened for a third time, the Slayer walking inside and going up to her desk, grabbing a hairclip and pulling her hair out of her eyes, looking at her coat and throwing it over the back of the chair before heading up to her closet, quickly choosing another one and then going for the door. She paused, looked at the two Wicca's, then smiled.

"Bye," she said.

She walked out of the dorm with controlled steps.

She would take a look around campus first, then head to the town, sweep the center, the cemeteries, the outskirts. She'd check in on Revello Drive and then head back to the dorm. Not very complicated.

But her legs carried her elsewhere.

He won't have left, she told herself. It's not possible. He's too stubborn.

And still she started running. And still there was a terrible sense of apprehension within her.

She reached his cemetery, not slowing down until his crypt came into view, and then she came to a full stop, her chest heaving.

I can't go in there, she thought.

Her mouth was growing dry. Her palms felt clammy, her shoulders were covered with goose bumps. She realized she was frightened. Finally she straightened her posture and willed herself forward. Reaching the door she paused, touching the rough wood and convincing herself that there would be candles burning in there, that the television would be on, that he'd be there. Even when she knew it was a lie, she truly believed it; until she actually pushed the door open and stepped inside.

There were no candles burning.

It was dark, and cold.

She walked slowly to the middle of the crypt and stopped there, looking around. She wanted to think that he was just out, as he always was at this hour, but she could feel the abandonment the place was suffering. The fact that someone had made an issue of leaving it. The fact that he had.

She stared at the loveseat.

The TV was gone. The candelabras as well. She stood on her toes and saw that the cushions also had been removed. Or sold, she guessed. She made her way up to the ladder and carefully climbed down it. Pitch black enveloped her, but she had her night vision and it guided her through it. The bedroom floor was now covered with the oriental rugs and she smiled sadly. The bed was still there, though it had been stripped. Both bedside tables were missing.

And then something tore inside of her.

It was over.

She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.

She had asked, and for once he had listened.

And then quiet tears rose. She couldn't control them, and thus let them be. They welled over and softly slipped down her cheeks. She moved over to lie down on the mattress, folding herself into a fetal position and closing her eyes.

¤

The headlights of a black DeSoto cut through the thickness of night as it rode down the stretch of highway leading away from Sunnydale. The vampire was behind the wheel. He was just thinking how he should be used to the torn feeling inside him. Half of him knew he was doing the right thing for the first time in much too long... and the other half was crying out that he was a bloody wanker who was ruining an existence that might've gotten back to how it used to be if he'd only not gotten dashed over the head with this sudden sodding sense of nobility!

The chip, the chip, the chip, that half yelled. Where are you gonna go? What're you gonna do with it in the back of your skull! For eternity!

He clenched his jaws together.

He would see this through, there was no other way.

And never seeing her again? a voice prodded gently. Never touching her again? Never tricking her to smile... Never arguing with her? Can you live with that?

"Her words," he muttered in response, "I'll learn."

You won't be able to keep away for long, the voice taunted.

We'll see, he thought. I'm a quick study.

Deep down he knew it was fruitless, though, to struggle against this breaking sensation inside. The farther he moved away from her, the less he felt as though anything mattered anymore. The purpose was taken away. His first selfless act in decades had been brought forth by this blossoming emotion in his chest, had been executed because of her, because he loved her and truly believed she would be better off without the black noise that he was in her life. But as the lights of the city she inhabited were gliding out of sight, he also came to the conclusion that she had given him something. A reflection of himself in her eyes. He had seen himself the way she saw him and hadn't liked what he had become.

He knew she could never let herself love him in the form that he was. He could walk around the subject like a predator, hunt her and bring her to her knees before him and it would still do nothing to make her believe in him.

The breaking became more violent.

He wanted her belief.

He wanted her to look at him the way she had when she had uttered those dire words, the words that had stayed by him, if not always obvious, then always hovering close by...

"You act like you don't have a choice in who you are, but you do. I know there's a demon in there, and it's fierce and argh and makes with the blood; but there's also a remaining human being, Spike. You may not think so, but I've seen him. I've seen you."

He glared ahead, trying to block the sentences out once and for all, but it was impossible. They were stampeding through his brain, leaving their prints everywhere and finally he slammed his foot on the break, the car coming to a screeching and dragged out halt.