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Chapter Eleven: Night Lights

Buffy took a wary bite of her onion petal. She looked at Spike for reassurance before she began chewing. Spike had told her that, although strange at first, it was really very common for vampires to eat food. She loved it. It was salty and greasy and perfect. She chewed a little more and then swallowed, a wide grin spreading over her face. Spike couldn't help but laugh at her proud expression. All she had done was eaten an onion petal and she looked as though she just killed herself a Slayer.

"You like it then, Pet?" Spike asked, enraptured by her quiet eating faces.

"I do. It's like a yummy explosion in my mouth. Oh, God, I really just said 'explosion in my mouth,' didn't I?" Buffy put her head against the cool table, laughing deeply.

Nothing had ever seemed so fun and relaxing when she was the Slayer. When she hung out with Willow and Xander slaying always seemed to pop up. She could never avoid her job and live life; it had become an all encompassing factor in what made up her. It had become 'essence of Buffy.' With spike, as a vampire, she could relax, dance, kill. . .well, maybe the kill part wasn't altogether normal, but nothing's ever perfect.

"Do you want to have a dance before we go kill, then?" Spike asked, holding his hand out to her.

She smiled. "I do."

Spike led her out onto the dance floor, pushing other people out of his way. He drew her to him, held her close, and began to sway gently to the dark, ethereal music. He stroked her hair with one hand, gazing into her eyes. She was beautiful, of course. He had always known that, but she was fun, too. When willow had suggested turning her, he had been hesitant- she had always seemed so uptight and self-righteous. Of the two, Willow had always seemed so much more full of energy, so much more resistant to ego boosts. Willow. Where had she run off to, anyway?

"Spike?" Buffy asked, with a lazy smile.

"Yes, Love?"

"What are we going to do with Drusilla? Is she going to stay with us or should we send her away? She seems so out of it."

"You know, the trouble with Drusilla is that she always wants to run off half cocked and start riots and bring forth apocalypses. She never wants to plan and be patient. Not that patience is my strong point, either, mind you. It's just she is so sodding impetuous."

"Impetuous?"

Buffy couldn't help but be a little shocked. Spike had always been so rough-n-tumble, almost like a cockney cowboy. She didn't think he was a hair-brained moron, but she had never thought him the type to cash in on 50 cent words, either. In fact, she had never really known what to think of him. He had always seemed so irrational and violent, such a fierce killer . . . but then there was his relationship with dru. He was so patient with her and so sensitive. He seemed like any boyfriend who was madly in love with his girlfriend.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Pet?"

"Did you love Drusilla right from the beginning?"

"It's like this. I was in love with this woman, Cecily. I wrote poetry about her, pined after her, and continually received her contempt. Then, one day, she really broke my heart. Said I was 'beneath her.' She was right, I expect. That's when Dru found me and turned me. She made me strong when I had spent my whole life being weak. It was like she saved me and, for that, I owed her a great deal."

"Spike? How did you end up being such a sweet guy even without a soul?"

Laughing at the irony of it all, he kissed her gently on her forehead and answered, "Just lucky, I suppose."

Cordy awakened to the sound of Doyle and Angel stirring. Angel looked broody as per usual, but Doyle looked very troubled. She was beginning to feel uneasy. Maybe Doyle knew that she had kissed Xander. After all, he was a half-demon and demons all seemed to have some sort of special scent that allowed them to track smooches.

"Angel, Willow might still be outside," Cordy stated as an afterthought.

"What?"

"Willow. Vamp Willow, you know. I had a brawl with her outside."

"Are you hurt? Why didn't you wake us up? What if she had done something evil?" Doyle asked, worrying about Cordy.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and scoffed. Like she'd be afraid of that tweed chaser, Willow. Not likely! Willow was such a little stick of a girl that even as a vampire she wouldn't be any match for Cordelia. Or so Cordy thought.

Angel shook his head. "Cordelia, you really should have mentioned this to us sooner. Willow and Buffy are the whole reason we're in Sunnydale right now."

"Well, I still think it's a big waste of time. Buffy is worth saving, but Rosenberg never did anything all that special," Cordy muttered, examining her nails. "She has ugly clothes, ugly hair . . . she's just a side-kick."

Growing more angry with each of Cordelia's comments, Willow removed her ear from its spot against the door. 'A side-kick?' Willow thought to herself. 'I'm a side-kick? Just because she never had any friends doesn't mean that I'm a side-kick. Xander is just a side-kick. I'm a powerful witch . . . and a vampire!'

Deciding in the heat of the moment that she would go immediately and kill Giles to make herself feel better, Willow ran into the blackness of night. She ran until she got to Giles' home, watching him through the window. She was ready for him. He was going out she knew, he was gathering up his little tweed coat and a book. He was so predictable. She waited until he opened the door and stepped out. Grabbing him from behind, she sank her teeth into his neck and drank deeply.

"Surprise, Watcher," she said and resumed drinking. Wouldn't Spike and Buffy be surprised when they found out who was coming for dinner?

Appalled by the night's events, Xander lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling. He had made out with Cordelia for what had seemed like hours only to be told, afterwards that it was just about lust and not to make a big deal about it. Anya had said the same thing before they began their relationship. Women were so confusing with their kissing and panting. He wondered aimlessly if Cordelia would be back or if that would be all. He thought of Anya off in Florida. Guilty that he didn't feel more guilty, Xander groaned. Idly visualizing Cordelia and Anya wearing maid costumes in his bed, he began to fell all itchy.

"Shit," he said out loud. "These are the thoughts I'm thinking now? How can I help Buffy and Willow?"

He looked out the window onto his lamp-lit street. Everything seemed so quiet, but nothing ever was. There were vampires and demons lurking out there, nasty, evil things that couldn't be found. Who could help him now? Was there anyway he could save them or would he just have to restore their souls? If he restored their souls, would it have to be in the form of a curse? His brain hurt, he needed Giles. He and Cordy had never quite made it there earlier. . .

What was he going to do?

In a dark cave near campus, a man sat gazing at the stars and worrying about the girl he loved. He was a clean cut, all-American boy, wearing military fatigues. The girl he loved was Buffy Summers, although it had been many days since he had last seen her. The boy's name was Riley Finn, and he made up his mind, come Hell or high water, he was going to find his sun-kissed beauty and teach her how to bake an apple pie.

In a small hospital bed, something amazing began to happen. A patient suddenly woke up from a coma, strong as she had ever been despite her year long nap. She was wild, impatient and ready for information. Buffy Summers was still out there living life. She knew it, had dreamed about him. It was time to bury the hatchet, her dreams had shown her how wonderful things could be if only she made up with Buffy. She had fought peace for so long, finding solace in nothing but sex and violence. Now it was time to put all that away. Faith was going to fix things.