Spike hurried into his suite, his superhuman hearing easily picking up the sounds of Anya's whimpers. She crouched, huddled on the bed, while Greg sat nervously in the chair.

"Where's Kal?" he asked, dropping the bags and rushing to the bed, only to feel the pain of Anya's nails raking his skin. He ignored the small sting and gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly and rocking back and forth. Instinctively, he started humming the tune that he had alternatively loved and hated: the folk song his mother had once sung to him so often.

"He went to bandage his hand. Apparently, her teeth got a hold of it earlier. She woke up just a minute ago screaming and then started with that."

Kal came bustling in as Greg finished his tale, his hand now sporting a white bandage. Spike could smell the residue of blood coming from the wound and wondered what had happened.

"She woke up?" the man-demon asked as he slowly approached the bed. "I apologize, Spike. I only left for a moment."

"'Salright, mate. What happened?"

Kal succinctly explained the events that had occurred the last time the traumatized ex-demon awoke and his leaving Greg with her for the few moments it took to bandage his hand. Greg, their fearless leader, took the opportunity to slip out of the room, determined to head for safer ground. His own face stung from the slap Anya had delivered when he tried to calm her.

"Shhh. Anya, it's OK, pet. Spike has you now," the man whispered, rocking her frantically. Her only response was to whimper and push ineffectively at his restraining arms.

"My tale of Pylea seemed to calm her before," Kal ventured, worry evident on his face. "Perhaps another tale will have a similar effect?" Spike nodded his acceptance of the plan and continued to rock the young woman as Kal told the story of his hunt for the mogfan beast that had terrorized the scum pits of Ur. He told the story with the flare of someone who had grown up with an oral tradition.

Anya started to calm, much to Spike's relief.

Two days later found Spike entering his suite once again, this time returning from patrol with Greg, Kal, and Connor. Kate, banned from helping due to her broken leg, had taken over the duty of watching Anya during the nightly rounds. The ex-demon had calmed greatly in the few days since her rescue, though she was still prone to nightmares and refused to speak. He often worried that she was broken. That the trauma of returning to life and being tortured was too much for her human psyche and that she would never recover.

That was the main reason he didn't e-mail Willow the second he had her safe. Not because he thought that they would not want to let the young woman go, but because he didn't want them to have to deal with the chore of nursing her back to a healthy mental state or to make arrangements for her care if she was too far gone. Their brief experience with a hallucinating Buffy had nothing on his years with his dark princess. He knew how to care for his friend and was more than happy to do it until she showed improvement.

Until she could make the decision on her own or it became impossible to keep her presence from the Scoobs, he was determined to keep her a secret.

"Copper," he greeted Kate as he entered his bedroom. She looked up from the book she was reading aloud and smiled.

"She's been quiet all night," she stated, closing the book but keeping the same tone she used when reading. Tonight was a continuation of North and South, just one of the many books he had picked up from the library in an effort to stimulate Anya's mind.

"No nightmares?"

"None," she confirmed, much to Spike's relief. If the girl could go for four hours without screaming herself awake, it was a good sign. "You have received a few hang-ups, though. Whoever's doing it asked me who I was once and hung up right after I told her."

"Her?"

Kate shrugged and nodded in greeting to Kal, who had just come into the room to check on Anya. The half-breed's natural empathic tendencies made him a bit of a worry wart when it came to the girl, but Spike didn't complain. It kept the man from bugging him about going back to Wolfram and Hart and asking after his princess. He had been most upset with Spike when he had first learned of the blonde's meeting with Angel and the news that she was seriously ill. He had started a campaign to get the ex-vampire to return to the law office in order to ask after the girl, oddly reluctant to do so himself.

"Rex," Spike greeted, moving from the edge of the bed so that his newest friend could check on the young woman. Kal nodded in return, his eyes questioning Spike on Anya's progress.

"Copper says she hasn't woken up since we left," he told his friend, as he helped Kate to her feet. She had gotten pretty good at maneuvering with her crutches, but still struggled with getting out of chairs.

"That is good," the man-demon intoned as he smoothed the covers. "Perhaps the trauma she has experienced has started to fade."

"We can only hope," he stated, nodding to both of his friends as they returned to their own suites.

Alone with his favorite ex-demon once again, Spike kept up a bit of idle chatter as he retrieved his pallet from the closet. He was sure the couch would be more comfortable than a few blankets on the floor, but it was also farther away. Precious seconds would be wasted in the trip from his living room to the bedroom if Anya woke up screaming, like she did most nights. So he made do with the floor.

"Most people," he chattered, despite the fact that she was asleep. They tried to keep a constant stream of conversation directed at her, hoping that she would respond. If someone wasn't talking or reading, the radio or TV was playing, providing constant background noise. "Would think that a vampire, newly restored to the land of the living, would have trouble adjusting to a daytime schedule. I've been followin' a human routine for years, though. Since I started in with the slayer and her chums. Got used to sleeping at night, especially when it gave me a chance to sleep with her in my arms. But, that's not a good subject to follow now, is it?"

He nattered on for a few more minutes, arranging his bed to the way he liked it, and was about to turn on the little clock radio by the bed when the phone rang. The harsh noise caused the sleeping Anya to jump slightly, and Spike quickly grabbed it up before it could ring again and wake up his friend.

"'Lo?"

"Who's the harlot?" a familiar voice asked abruptly, causing Spike to stiffen.

"Nibblet?"

"Who's the tramp that answered your phone, blood breath?"

Spike frowned into the phone, completely confused by the series of questions. Why in the world would Dawn think that Kate was a tramp?

"A friend. Daw-"

"'A friend.' You have 'a friend' in your apartment at all hours of the night? When you marked my sister with some mystical soul mates mark? You lousy, dirty, despicable, vile demon! Buffy cried herself to sleep because when she finally built up the courage to call you, you were too busy with your floozy to answer the damn phone! While my sister has been pining after your ass for over a year, you've been fucking some cheap whore!" Dawn's voice had steadily risen until she was screaming into the phone, causing Spike to hold the receiver away from his ear or risk damaging his sensitive hearing.

She stopped, panting for breath, and Spike charged into the temporary silence. "Dawn, Kate is a friend. That is all she is! A friend! How could you think I'd do that to your sister? After everything I've been through for her?"

"You cheated on her with Anya; you tried to rape her!"

Spike winced at the reminder of his past actions, the brutal and desperate attack on Buffy when he had tried to reach her the way Dru had taught him to respond to her dark moods. At first, even with the demon flooding his body with bravado and power, he had been horrified at the idea of using force on the delicate creature that had made him. It was only under her continued assault that he had given into the demon's baser urges, feeling horrified even as his princess had screamed with pleasure.

"I don' want to talk about that," he stated with as much calm as he could muster, settling onto the floor and leaning his head back against the nightstand that held the phone base.

She snorted into the phone. "You can't just Luke and Laura it, blood breath. This is real life."

"I'm not sweeping it under the rug, damn it. It's a private issue between me an' the slayer. I don't know how she managed to forgive me, but she did. I'm not goin' to talk about that night to anyone but the big sis. An' then only if she brings it up. And how the bloody hell do you know who Luke and Laura are?"

"Janice," she answered. "What about the thing with Anya, huh? It stopped being private the instant Willow hacked the nerds' cameras and we all saw you making the beast with two backs right there in the Magic Box. And now you're doing it again!"

Frustrated, he lightly banged his head against the nightstand. "First of all, Platelet, if you do have a camera here, then you know damn well that I haven' been sparkin' anyone. Secondly, your big sis had stated in no uncertain terms that we didn' have a relationship when that thing with Anya happened. While it was a mistake, I was not cheatin' on her."

He took a deep breath to get his rampant emotions under control. "Now," he said, thankful that Dawn had launched another tirade in the silence. "Now, the reason I didn't answer the phone is because I bloody well wasn' here. Kate was lookin' after something for me while I was out making the world safe for puppies and idiots. If you or Buffy had bothered to talk to her for a minute, Copper would have told you the same. But no, you had to hang up after hearing a woman's voice! I am capable of being friends with a woman without sex bein' involved, ya know."

"Copper?" Dawn asked after a moment's pause. Her voice was quiet and small, as if she had realized the colossal mistake she had made.

"That's what I call Kate. She's a detective here in LA, one of the people I hooked up with that fights the good fight."

"Willow told me about her. In your e-mails you never call her Kate. It's always Copper, Fish, Charver, and Rex."

Spike chuckled ruefully. "I guess so. Just like you'll always be Nibblet and Platelet and any other nickname I think up at the time. Just the way I am, Dawn."

"It's just… We didn't even think of connecting the whore on the phone to the friend you told us about. I think Buffy had worked herself up so much that at the sound of a woman's voice, she freaked, ya know?"

Spike closed his eyes, thanking whatever god that was listening that Dawn, at least, had calmed down enough to see reason. "I probably would've done the same if I'd called there an' a bloke other than Harris or the watcher had answered." He paused, giving her time to laugh in acknowledgement of his jealous tendencies. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I miss you."

"Miss you, too, Nibblet. And as much as I enjoy talkin' to you, this must be costing your sis a fortune an' you shouldn't be up this late on a school night."

"No school tomorrow; it's a teacher work day. You're right, though, it is expensive. I wish I could keep talking to you without Buffy having a fit when she saw the bill."

"Hang up and call collect," he stated, perfectly happy to talk to her as long as she was willing. The expense of the bill was negligible compared to the pleasure of hearing her voice.

Within moments he was talking to her again, this time at his expense. They talked long into the night, he telling her about his friends and their various adventures. He didn't edit the tales like her sister and the Scoobies had done so many times, trying to protect her from the harsher realities of life. Spike had always treated her like an adult, which was perhaps one of the reasons she had been his staunchest supporter.

"How are all the Scoobies?" he asked, once his voice had worn out. "Willow said you an' the slayer were alright, but that was all."

"Is that a not-so-subtle way of getting me to tell you about how miserable Buffy's been without you?"

"No," he laughed. "Though, feel free to do so. I really do want to know how everyone made out. I know you, the sis, and Red made it through the fight an' that Anya didn't. Did the whelp and Giles survive?"

"Yeah. So did Andrew and Robin, which let me tell you, it's still odd not to call him Principal Wood. None of the slayers that made it out of the Hellmouth died. Faith said that you were still… Well, that you should know who died in the caverns and who didn't."

"Wood's still kickin', huh? Can't really say I'm surprised; he's a tenacious bugger. He still with Faith?"

"How did you-"

"Vampire sense of smell, love. Better than gossip for figuring out who's doin' the nasty."

"Ew." Spike smiled as he sensed the disgusted shudder that went through her. "Please tell me that you can't do that any more. Angel was a bit vague on the details of your return."

"What, afraid I'll take one whiff of you an' know what you've been up to?"

"As if! I learned my lesson, or, I should say Buffy's lesson, when it comes to losing my virginity. No way, no how. But when I do, I don't want to have to worry about you killing the guy."

"Long as you're married, I won't have a problem," he joked. "Seriously, Nibblet, you're what, almost eighteen? I figure you're old enough to make your own choices."

"Thanks," she whispered, grateful that at least one person in her life had come to that conclusion. "So, anyway, Faith and Robin were a thing for about a month before she decided to move to greener pastures. Apparently, that's a record for her. They're still friends, as far as I know. Robin lives out in Brooklyn and Faith is in Cleveland, watching over the Hellmouth there.

"Giles returned to England with the girls that were Council raised. Did you know that he actually has an estate in Bath? An honest to God estate, with grounds and everything. It's big enough to house the girls and give them room to train. The older girls go wherever they're needed, but he keeps the younger girls with him. He says they'll be allowed to patrol once they get older, but that he has no intention of letting anyone consider young girls 'instruments' ever again.

"The girls who the Council hadn't kidnapped from their families have returned home. Giles has been gathering the few Watchers left alive and assigning them positions near each girl. The girls know who they are and are encouraged to go to them for training and help, but none have a Watcher overseeing their every move. It's all very revolutionary.

"Xander's living in Jersey, where he's the foreman for some construction company or other. He's dating a half-Bracken demon. She's cool; she can make spikes pop out of her face. It's great to tease Xander about."

Spike chuckled, filing the information away. Ribbing the whelp was never a bad thing.

"Willow and Kennedy are still going hot and heavy. It's good; Willow provides a calming influence on Kennedy and Kennedy bolsters Willow's confidence. They have an apartment a few floors down from us."

"And you? How's your senior year goin'?"

"Good. I've made some new friends here. My grades are up and Social Services has decided to forget about me. They said that since all my records were lost and because I'll be legal so soon that they'll let us be as long as I don't get arrested or anything like that. Which I am so not going to do."

Unknown to Spike, Dawn looked up when she heard a slight noise to find her sister standing uncertainly in the doorway. It pained her to see her sister reduced to an insecure puddle by even a hint of rejection, intentional or otherwise, on Spike's part. She gave Buffy a small smile and motioned for her to join her at the kitchen peninsula.

"I'm not dating anyone, at least not seriously," she told her friend as she scribbled a note on the pad used for phone messages. She could feel her sister wilt with relief when she read that the mysterious Kate they had spent half the night bad mouthing was nothing more than a friend. Friend being underlined several times with little stars littered around it.

"Buffy opened a self-defense academy. It's only been open for a year now, but it's quickly gaining a reputation for being the best. Kennedy and I help out there. Kennedy teaches a few of the classes and I help by being thrown around a lot. But I also get to throw her sometimes. And Buffy lets me train with the advanced classes. I may not be a slayer, but I can hold my own with the other normal people. The academy is gaining such a following that we're thinking of asking Robin to help out. Buffy says we'll have to, simply because the classes we have now can't hold any more people."

She glanced at the slayer in question and noticed her fidgeting. Deciding to take pity on the older girl, she quickly said "But, I'll let her tell you about that," before thrusting the phone into her sister's hand and racing to her bedroom.

"She'd have to be talkin' to me first, Nibblet, remember? She thinks I've thrown her over for some chippy. Doesn't she know that everyone else pales in comparison to her?"

"She does now," Buffy whispered into the phone, making Spike bolt upright.

"Love?"

"It's me, Spike."

He didn't say anything for a few minutes, just enjoying the sound of her breathing.

"I just woke up to find Dawn on the phone. Do you realize it's almost dawn here?"

"No. Dawn didn't tell me where you were livin'. She did say enough for me to guess it's somewhere around New York City. She also promised that she didn't have school tomorrow – today, I guess. And I had her call collect. Don't be mad at her."

"I'm not," she said. After a moment's silence she spoke again. "I miss you."

"I miss you, love. Every day."

"So, are you sporting a nifty new tattoo?"

He chuckled at the upbeat tone of voice and lightened his own tone, knowing that she wanted to avoid the serious stuff for now. "That I am. Was a bit of a shock, tell the truth. 'Specially since I hadn't noticed it yet and someone else had to point it out to me."

"Just think how I feel. If Dawn hadn't seen it, I'd probably still not know it was there. Have you found out anything about them?"

"You know research's not my thing, love."

"No, I know the bleached hair and leather hide a studious persona. You've been researching, you just don't want to admit it."

He chuckled ruefully. "Haven't found much. Mystical soul mates, yadda yadda yadda. I did notice that mine's a mirror image of the one I drew on you."

"Yeah, got that part. Willow thinks it's a ying yang thing."

"Makes sense. Watcher know about it?"

"We clocked him. It only took five seconds for him to mention consulting his books."

"Sounds about right."

"Tell me about your friends," she requested.

"What, amazed I might have normal friends?" he teased.

"Clem was normal. Well, for a demon."

"That he was. Alright. First bloke I met is actually an old friend of yours, believe it or not: Greg Scales."

"Not ringing any bells."

"Said he used to be called Pike. We had a bit of a laugh over the idea of being Pike and Spike."

"Pike? Oh my God."

They talked long into the night, until dawn broke over LA and Spike was forced to admit he was exhausted. The spoke of their friends and allies, their enemies and adventures. Finally, as Spike once again lay down on his pallet, he spoke the words that he had been itching to say since hearing her voice.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

With a contented grin, he hit the disconnect button and closed his eyes, happy in the knowledge that she was safe.

"Can I ask a question?"

Spike looked over at Connor, who had been kicking a can across the sidewalk as they walked. The skittering of the can meeting concrete had been a constant companion for the last twenty or so minutes of their patrol, and frankly, he was glad to have anything that would distract the younger man from his pastime.

"Only if you quit kickin' that can."

Connor gave the can one last kick, sending it deep into an alley and making a cat yowl. "How many vampires did you sire?"

He wasn't surprised by the question, not really. He had been able to see that question, amongst others, floating around in the kid's eyes ever since he had learned of Spike's previous existence. Those same questions flashed in Kate's eyes and glowed from Greg's. Spike had lost his mental bet that Kate would be the first to ask.

"Not really sure," he said with a shrug.

"Never thought to count them?" Connor asked sarcastically.

Spike turned his attention from his search for demons for a moment and studied the young man. Connor's shoulders were hunched and a sullen look was on his mouth. He was obviously trying to come to grips with his own nature and Spike was the only role model he had.

"I was a vampire for over 120 years, Charver. Bloke can do a lot in that amount o' time. Bloke can forget a lot. In 122 of those 123 years, I know exactly how many vampires I sired."

"And the last year?"

Spike ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Do you know who the First is?" Seeing Connor's look of confusion, he continued. "The First was, is, the First Evil. An incorporeal bein' that can look like anyone who's dead. After I got my soul, she, it, messed with my mind. I don't remember all of what it made me do, but I remember siring vampires. I have no idea how many. As soon as I remembered a bit, as soon as the slayer figured out what was happenin,' she chained me up."

"And before that?" Connor asked, ignoring the tightening of his friend's jaw.

"One."

"One? In 120 years, you only sired one vampire? I thought vampire's had a, I don't know, biological imperative to make more."

"Biological imperative? Talk about that last week in class, did ya?"

"Yes, actually," Connor said, blushing. "All species have a drive to procreate. It's the natural order of things."

"Even unnatural beings? Vampires, say?"

"I think so. Only, vampires don't do it out of an instinct to deepen the gene pool. Masters make minions, minions make even weaker minions to push around. They do it so that there's always someone weaker."

"Interestin' theory. Not all vampires sire others just to have someone to push around, though. Dru made me to be her companion. Darla sired Angelus because she fell into instant lust with him. There's all sorts of reasons."

"And the reason you only sired one?"

"It…was a mistake. After that, I just had no desire to turn anyone else."

They walked in silence for a few moments, both looking for demons to roll. Connor cast glances at Spike, obviously trying to get up the nerve to ask about the one vampire he had deliberately sired.

"For Christ's sake, ask already!" Spike finally snarled, tired of both the silence and the questioning looks.

"Who was it? Why did you choose him? What happened to him?"

"Vampires, when they're sired, forget most human emotions. Most of the healthier ones, at least. They know all about anger and hate. My theory is that the feelings that were strongest in 'em while they were human transfers to their demon and are amplified while the rest fade into memory. Angelus resented his father so much that after he was turned, he slaughtered his family and everyone that ever came into contact with them. Darla didn't have much emotion beyond possessiveness and lust, which, for the most part, she kept trained on Peaches. Dru… Well, Dru was off her bloody rocker.

"Me, though, I was different from the lot of 'em. Maybe it was because of who I was when I was human, I don't know. All I know is that while I had the same capacity to hate, I also knew love. I loved Dru with all my bein' and would have done anything for her. An' there was one other person I felt that way about."

"Someone you knew as a human," Connor guessed, prodding Spike to continue.

"Yeah. It was someone I loved very much. Afterwards, after she rose, she was so different than the person she had been. She wouldn't have wanted to be like that. So… I took care of it. After that, I just didn't have an urge to sire anyone else. Which worked out well for Dru, since that meant she had my full attention.

"Minions are easy to come by, even if you don't make them yourself. There's a constant stream of fledges that are abandoned by their masters. Kinda like that one," he said, indicating a vampire that seemed to be stalking a co-ed. With a quick look exchanged, the two hunters quickly flanked the vampire and "accidentally" bumped him into an alley.

"So sorry, mate," Spike said, helping the demon to his feet. "Didn't see you there."

"I'll show you sor-" the fledgling managed to get out before Connor punched him in the nose, breaking it.

"What was that? Didn't quite catch it. Did you, Charver?"

"Something about him being sorry, I think," Connor replied as he forced the vampire's arm up behind his back.

"He should be sorry," Spike stated, calmly divesting their victim of any valuables he found. "That shirt is a crime against fashion. I never understood why vampires didn't keep up with the times."

"Oh, and the Billy Idol look is in?" Connor questioned as Spike drove a stake home.

"He stole it from me," the bleached blonde grumbled. "Besides, I like my look."

Connor just laughed and turned to go, stopping short at the sight of a demon standing in the opening of the alley. "You invite anyone to the party?" he asked.

"Nah," he replied, sizing up the creature approaching them. The demon was about average height for a human, but had green scales plating his flesh. It wasn't a species he recognized, not that that meant much in the long run. "Don't like sharing my onion blossom, you know that."

Before the demon could get within striking distance, a sound from the back of the alley distracted him. Spike glanced over his shoulder to find two of the demon's kin behind him, these holding a sword and a mace, respectively.

"Definitely party crashers," he said, turning to confront the newcomers, leaving Connor to deal with the original. "Maybe the printer made up some extra invitations and gave 'em to whomever he felt like, eh?"

Further talk was made impossible by the flurry of swings the duo of demons threw at him. Spike easily avoided the majority of the blows, but caught one in the solar plexus which caused him to fold.

OK, definitely strong buggers, he thought as he scrambled out of the way of a kick aimed at his head, only to have to roll the other way to prevent the sword from disconnecting his head.

He spared a second to check on Connor as he jumped to his feet then silently cursed himself for the move when the butt end of the mace met his shoulder. With a growl, he threw himself out of the way of the return blow and grabbed a length of pipe that was conveniently leaning against one wall. It wasn't long enough to serve as a quarterstaff, but it did extend his reach a bit.

"Well, c'mon then," he taunted the demons, spinning the pipe in a way that was flashy and designed to confuse.

The demons rushed him, weapons raised. He easily side stepped the one with the sword and thrust the pipe through the second's chest, right where his heart should be. The creature stumbled a bit and Spike turned back to the first just in time to use his duster to deflect the edge of the descending sword.

A quick twist and he was out of the danger zone again, only to pause at the sight of the second demon pulling the pipe out and launching it at him. He barely moved in time to prevent the metal from going through his head as it buried itself deep into the brick wall. He spared a glance at the quivering pipe but didn't take the time to try to pull it out. At least half of it was imbedded in the wall and even his strength was insufficient to remove it.

He didn't have time to think as he started moving again, narrowly avoiding the swinging sword and flailing mace. He grabbed the stake he had habitually stuck in his duster and flipped it at the demon with the sword. The business end planted in the demon's eye, miraculously making it drop the sword in order to clutch at the offending piece of wood.

Spike dashed across the alley and grabbed the weapon up, rolling out of the way of a fumbling punch from the half-blind demon, a swipe of the mace, and a slash from Connor's demon, whom he got a bit too close to. Sword grasped firmly in his hand, he hamstrung Connor's opponent before continuing to roll to the relative safety of the alley wall.

The roar that Connor's demon produced seemed far away as Spike went head to head with the mace-wielding demon. He had never been very good with a sword, preferring the brutality of using his own fists in a fight, so the match was grossly uneven. Spike concentrated on keeping out of the range of the mace or blocking any shots he couldn't avoid while looking for any opening that might allow him to strike at his opponent.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he managed to create a deep gouge in the demon's neck. Black ichor ran down from the wound and onto the demon's chest, mixing with that from the earlier wound. He allowed himself a brief smile of pleasure before he swung the sword again, lengthening the wound until it to the other side of the demon's throat. The creature made a gurgling sound before sinking to its knees. Spike didn't have time to make sure the job was done before the one-eyed demon attacked with an uppercut.

Spike threw himself out of the way and launched his pilfered sword at the head of the demon that now held Connor by the throat. The demon crumpled and released Connor, who sank to the ground, gasping for breath.

He quickly turned back to the remaining demon and went on the offensive. He let all his rage from the last few weeks, the attack on Greg and Kate, the torture of Anya, the meeting with the great poof, and all the battles that had happened in between, build up. With a snarl, he launched himself at the demon, releasing the fear and anger with every blow, every kick. The demon, even with its greater strength, had no chance against the onslaught and was soon on the ground unconscious.

"Charver, you still alive?"

Connor groaned from where he was stumbling to his feet. Spike decided to take that as a yes and quickly ran his eyes over the dark alley. The demon Connor had been fighting was dead, the sword sticking out from between his green, pupil-less eyes. The demon that had wielded the mace was twitching his last, leaving only the third demon for questioning.

"Call Fish and Rex," he ordered the still woozy Connor as he searched for a length of rope or wire to tie up his captive. Finding none, he called back to the kid "And tell 'em to bring some rope."

He had Connor search the dead demons while he watched the prisoner, to give the kid time to recover. When the demon moved a bit, Spike used his steel-toed boots to put a dent in the creature's nose, just to make sure it stayed down.

"Find anything of interest?" he asked Connor when the young man stumbled over.

"Just this," he said, holding out a ring. Spike took it as he continued. "Both of them had one. Odds are this guy does too."

Spike flipped the ring over in his hand, turning it over and over. He knew what the ring was. He had recognized it the moment his friend had handed it to him. It disturbed him on many levels that their attackers were wearing such jewelry.

"It's the ring of the Order of Teraka," he explained to Connor as he slipped the signet into his pocket. "Hired assassins. Expensive assassins at that. We must have pissed someone off."

Connor looked at him in shock but kept quiet until Greg and Kal pulled up in Kate's Car. Both men jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop, a feat that he was sure Kate would be pissed about if she ever learned that Greg had treated her car like that. Personally, he was just glad that her emergency brake was in good enough repair to handle the stress of being pulled before the car had stopped.

"What happened?" Greg asked as they ran up. Kal continued to the demon and proceeded to bind him, making sure to tie more than his wrists and ankles.

"They're from the Order of Teraka," Spike explained. "Hired assassins. Kal, you might as well kill that one. Terakans don't talk. They're paid way too much to."

"You seem to know a lot about them," Greg commented, eyebrows raised.

"Used them before," Spike said with a shrug. "Back when I was still the Big Bad. Hell, sent them after the slayer."

"You sent assassins after Buffy?" Greg questioned. "How in the Hell did she ever forgive you."

Spike's face clouded. "I honestly have no idea, Fish. Setting the Terakans after her was in no way the worst of my transgressions, but she forgave me for all of it. The chit has a soft heart, I guess."

"Could have something to do with the fact that she loves you."

He chuckled wryly. "Maybe, mate. Maybe."

AN: OK, the "Luke and Laura" thing above. If you're a fan of General Hospital, then you'll get it without an explanation. For those of you not exposed to the wonders (or evils) of daytime TV, Luke and Laura were very popular characters in General Hospital. Back in the 70s, afraid that he was going to die and rather drunk, Luke raped Laura. Later, once the writers decided to pair them romantically, history was rewritten and the rape was termed a seduction.

Fast forward 20 years. Luke and Laura have a teenaged son, Lucky. Lucky has a hate/hate relationship with a girl named Liz, who gets raped on Valentines Day. Their relationship completely changes after her attack, and they become romantic. Lucky, now having first-hand experience with the effects of rape, despises anyone who could do such a thing.

Naturally, it comes out that his father raped his mother. Lucky's whole world crumbles, his family splits apart, etc etc etc.

Now, the connection to B:tVS: Dawn states that Janice told her about Luke and Laura. Amber Tamblyn, who played Janice in the one episode that the character appeared in, also played Emily Quartermaine, Lucky and Liz's best friend on General Hospital. Emily was also essential in bringing the rapist to justice.

So, we have a cool bit of symmetry.