She stumbled backwards, which resulted in her falling on her ass. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to become a bad dream; she wasn't supposed to ever hear that voice again. That voice would be haunting her nightmares for years to come, but she shouldn't have been hearing it coming from the orange slide a mere few hundred yards from her house.

Every instinct she had was telling her to run, but she found she couldn't move. She couldn't close her mouth. She couldn't stand up. She was completely frozen in terror.

"Come here." His voice was quiet, yet commanding.

"I can't move," she confessed truthfully before she formed the words in her head.

"Come. Here." She slowly stood, her legs shaking, and looked around. Her broken tree branch was lying just a few feet away. She picked it up and hid it behind her back as she cautiously approached him. She should have been running, but at the moment she was too scared not to obey the Vampire.

She stepped directly in front of the slide opening, but kept her distance. A figure dressed in black was curled up inside, looking a bit cramped.

"Library," he muttered, and she squirmed. "You were at the library, I recognize your scent. Were you there the whole time?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I don't go to libraries. Libraries are for geeks." The words came out of her mouth again, making her a little miffed at the lack of control she apparently had over her speech today. She didn't mind libraries; she went with Xander and Willow a lot. She'd met the both when she first moved to Sunnydale, and all her cheerleading friends were too fake for her. Cordelia and Harmony were the worst, so she always hung out with a different social circle.

"Really?" Spike asked, sounding amused.

"Really. I'm Homecoming Queen. No libraries for me."

"Ah, but the nose knows, love."

"So what are you, part bloodhound?" Her stomach twisted as she realized she'd said the word 'blood.' She then put two and two together about Peaches's comment- he could smell her standing in the shadows, it appeared to be a Vampire thing. And if he hadn't been full…

"I hate dogs. I'm more of a cat person."

"Me too." Her head was switching between scared stuttering and casual speaking. It was getting annoying.

"So why were you at the library?"

"Detention."

"I knew you were lying."

"Please don't eat me."

"Can't. Stupid librarian. Do me a favor, love?"

"No."

"Please? I'll make it worth your while."

"What do you need?"

"I'm not sure. First we need to do a little brainstorming. I can't move."

"Okay. How am I supposed to help?"

"I don't know. Librarian shot me with something, took my legs out."

"Then how did you get here?"

"I ran. When I couldn't go any further, I crawled in here."

"Why?"

"In case it got sunny, I'd be protected by this thing."

"So you really can't move?" He thrashed his torso violently, making Buffy take a step back, but his legs stayed in basically the same spot. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Hmm. Got a car?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not? My family can't afford another car, I don't have one."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But how am I supposed to get out of here?"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you stole the du Lac Manuscript." He didn't say anything, then chuckled.

"Rupert filled you in."

"Look, I don't have a car, and I obviously can't carry you wherever you need to go."

"Well then, think harder."

"Why do you seem to think I'm helping you at all? You can't walk, so you can't attack me. There's no reason I should, especially since you tried to kill Giles and all." Spike sighed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to go home."

"I mean, what thing do you want? Boots you saw at the mall? Dress you saw on some bint? I can nick it for you."

"I don't wear stolen clothing."

"You want money?"

"Not if it's stolen." Spike raised himself on his elbows, and shifted into his game face. Buffy screamed and dropped her branch, but didn't move backwards.

"Help me, or I'll find you when I CAN walk," he growled, before switching back to his handsome features and settling back down again.

"I-I'll get my Mom's car."

"Glad to hear it. Off you trot now." She began to back up. "And remember, I'll find you if you don't come back."

She ran.

How was she going to get her mother's car? Joyce would never lend it unless it was an emergency. This definitely counted as an emergency, but she couldn't explain it to her mother. Joyce would want to call the police if she heard someone had been threatening her daughter, and then Buffy would be responsible for the neck injuries half of Sunnydale's police force was sporting.

"Mom?" she called as she ran into the house, panting. Joyce was nowhere to be found. She moved into the kitchen, and saw a yellow note on the fridge. She was getting used to these notes by now; they usually meant Joyce was working late to bring much-needed money into the house.

"Buffy,

I'll be back before you go to bed. Be good. Eat healthy. Do your homework. No people over. I have my cell.

Mom"

Well, that was cryptic. Buffy picked up the kitchen telephone and pressed 2 on the speed dial. It rang a few times, and Joyce picked up.

"Hi Mom. Where are you?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, your note was just very vague."

"Ah. Well, I'm having dinner with a man I met yesterday." Buffy wrinkled her nose. Joyce's dates always ended badly- she didn't have the best taste in guys, and normally she'd storm home ranting about how misunderstood women were these days.

"Wait, did he pick you up?"

"Yes. And the gentleman act ended there." Buffy's heart raced as she realized the car must still be there.

"Okay, just checking in."

"I appreciate it, sweetie."

"I'll go now. Bye." She hung up calmly, then dashed to the garage.

A minute later, she was pulling up in front of the playground. She noticed Spike's legs were now hanging out of the slide as she walked up to him. She was a little braver now, having grabbed her inch-big cross from a tangle of necklaces at the bottom of her jewelry box.

"You won't bite me. And not just tonight, but ever. That's what I want." He nodded.

"Fair enough."

"Where do you want me to take you?"

"The factory. My headquarters."

"Are there other Vampires there?" She was afraid again.

"Yes. You can dump me outside, I'll make it by myself. I don't exactly think the boys'll let a pretty thing like you just walk out."

"If you tell them not to, won't they? I mean, you're the leader."

"True, but I have an image to maintain. How would it look to the employees if the Big Bad didn't touch a hair on little birdie's head?" She approached him slowly.

"Can you get to the car by yourself?"

"Nope. Closer." He grabbed the sides of the slide and slid out, leaning on it to support himself. He crooked a finger as she continued slowly drawing nearer.

He draped an arm around her shoulders, and she buckled her knees under his weight. Nervously, she tried to shake her head so her hair would fall in place and cover every single square inch of her neck. He saw what she was trying to do, and smirked.

"I'm a man of my word, pet. I'm not going there." She began walking as he moved his legs. He could still control them, but the venom on the arrow Giles had shot into his arse had pretty much turned all below-the-waist muscles to jam. He couldn't stand on his own now- it was a miracle he'd gotten this far. Good thing he'd been smart enough to give Dorian the manuscript, and then gotten out of there as fast as he could. The playground was a few miles from the school, and he'd picked it as his shelter while he plotted how best to return to the factory.

Buffy was extremely nervous. Why was she helping an injured Vampire? Shouldn't she have tried to stab him with the stick or something? He was evil, he'd deserve it. But as Buffy half-carried him, he was no more monster than she. He was just a man- a helpless man. A hot helpless man. Who smelled like tobacco and chocolate. And had pool blue eyes that she wanted to swim in. Okay, she knew in the back of her mind that he was still THE Spike who Giles had freaked out over, but apparently bad guys came in all forms. And it really wasn't fair for someone so evil to have such a sexy accent.

She opened the back door for him, and stepped aside as he tumbled to the seat. Closing the door behind him as he wriggled into a leaning position, she climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Spike gave her directions as she drove away from the familiar houses and businesses of Sunnydale, towards what Spike had called 'The Factory'.

"What's your name?" he asked unexpectedly as she followed his instructions to turn left.

"I don't want to tell you," she tried to say boldly, but her voice squeaked a little.

"I won't hurt you, pet. What's your name?"

"Anne," she supplied, giving her middle name.

"Don't lie to me, you silly little bint."

"I'm not lying. My name is Anne. Anne is my name."

"You don't stay alive, well, undead, as long as I am, and not know how to tell when someone's lying to your face."

"I'm Anne." She kept her face as composed as possible. He said nothing for a few minutes except to tell her where to turn.

"My Mum's name was Anne."

"That's very interesting."

"She was an amazing woman. You have to be strong to be called Anne."

"I'm not sure if you're dissing or complimenting me."

"Do you live up to the name?"

"I-I guess," she stuttered.

"I killed her, though. My Mum." Buffy gasped. "Think about that next time you lie to my face, little girl."

They continued to drive, Spike leisurely relaxing in the back as Buffy's knuckles turned white from the force she was gripping the steering wheel with.

"So…Homecoming Queen." Spike was obviously trying to fish for conversation topics.

"Yea."

"Didn't have that when I went to school."

"Why not?"

"Many years ago, love." She said nothing. They were probably almost there. "Got a boyfriend?" Spike's attempts at chatting weren't working very well when Buffy feared for her life. Spike had made a deal with her, but nothing guaranteed his keeping it. "If you don't want to talk to me, just say so. I don't mind. I actually prefer it- the quiet girls are always the violent ones in the sack." Her cheeks flushed as she turned the radio on to discourage his topic. It was a Top 40 station, and Spike scoffed.

"Try again, love." She flipped between the frequencies until an unrecognizable punk sound was playing. Spike obviously knew what it was, because he sung along and thrashed his head.

"Stop here." She instantly slammed on the breaks and waited for him to indicate he was getting out. He didn't move.

"Uh, what?"

"This is my stop."

"Then…what's with the roots?"

"You don't walk out mid-Morrissey."

"Mid what?"

"Morrissey. You should give him a try, he's not as bleak as they say."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm at FYE." The song finally ended, and Spike pulled himself towards the door.

"Thanks for the ride, pet." He swung it open and dived out, rolling off the shoulder and onto the grass. She got out to close the door as she saw him pulling himself towards a nearby building with his elbows, looking like a baby learning to crawl. A giggle slipped out of her mouth, and she allowed herself to smile again. Spike heard it and the engine gunning that followed as she sped home.

She had a nice laugh, for a human. Not as evil as the laughs he heard from his crowd, but refreshing nonetheless.