A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and faves so far! Here's another chapter. Sorry it's not the most cheery episode, but the next one's gonna be fun. See ya then! ;-)

(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

What's the point of loving?

I mean, except for the sweaty part

What's the point of losing your heart?

Maybe if you're lucky

Being a pair makes you twice as tall

Maybe you're not losing at all

No need to cover up my heart

Plus see above re: sweaty part

So maybe love is pretty smart

Then so am I

I found my guy

-Anya, "I'll Be Mrs."

They'd finally gotten the rest of Willow's and Tara's things shipped over from England and were in the process of putting everything away. Willow was unpacking boxes of clothes while Tara handled knickknacks and books. Dawn was helping out, mostly by giving the two ladies advice on their impending return to college. Spike overheard some of it as he was lugging another heavy box into the room. Bloody hell, these birds kept a lotta junk!

"My advice to you is do exactly what everyone else does all the time," Dawn counseled the adult women.

"Got it," Willow smiled while folding shirts and putting them away in the dresser.

"Do what everyone else does, wear what everyone else wears, say what everyone else says."

Spike set the box down on the bed and exchanged an amused glance with Tara. "Okay," the witch agreed.

"People may say something to you that you don't understand," the teen warned, "Just don't be afraid to keep your mouth shut and pretend like you know what they're saying."

"Y'know, Platelet," Spike interjected, "They've been to college before."

The girl continued as if he hadn't spoken, "People may say something like, 'My protein window closes in an hour.' Just nod and smile." She demonstrated, bobbing her head sagely and mm-hmming. Then she added, "Turns out it has something to do with fitness."

Buffy and Xander entered the room carrying more stuff. "Have you talked to her lately?" Buffy asked.

"Not since that night with the Gnarl demon," Xander replied, revealing the subject of their discussion as his ex, "And that wasn't exactly the kind of 'How have you been?' kind of talking. More the 'Pierce its eye with something sharp,' kind of talking. I'm thinking I should call her."

Spike's scarred eyebrow quirked. "Sure that's a good idea?"

Xander threw him an irritated look. "Uh, A and B conversation, dude," he pointed at himself and Buffy.

The vampire opened his mouth to offer a scathing retort when Buffy hastily broke in, "He kinda has a point, Xander. I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

"Hopes?" he let out an unconvincing scoff, "Oh, no, no, no. There are no hopes. Anya and I are done. I love being single! I'm a strong, successful male who's giddy at the thought of all the women I will no doubt be dating in the near future."

Spike snorted.

"Strong, successful males say 'giddy'?" Buffy teased.

Xander looked down at his shoes. "I just worry about her, that's all."

"Anya?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. She seems so sad."

"She should try acting like everybody else more," Dawn offered.

"Apparently, it's what all the kids are doin' nowadays," Spike grinned wryly.

"Well, I'm not sure I get the sad vibe," Buffy said, "but there's definitely a vengeance vibe worth worrying about."

Xander's eyebrows rose. "Oh, that? No, no. I don't worry about that. She was hurt, and she just turned back to what she knew when I...you know. But that's not her anymore."

"I hope you're right," Buffy replied, less than confident.

"Well, she turned that worm guy back before any real damage happened, right?" Xander pointed out, "It'll just take some time. I really think she's coming around."

Spike didn't even try to conceal his doubt. Harris still viewed his ex through rose-colored glasses. The whelp didn't understand the nature of vengeance demons. Didn't want to understand. It wasn't like they had a choice. D'Hoffryn ran a tight ship. If his demons didn't meet their quota...well, let's just say getting fired was the least of their worries.

Buffy had more of an understanding of these things, being the Slayer and all. Which was why Spike clearly felt the knot of dread that settled in her every time the subject of Anya came up. Sooner or later, the vengeance demon would grant one horrific wish too many, and Buffy would be forced to take her out, friend or not.

It was a slow, boring day at the high school counselor's office. Buffy was balancing a cup of pencils on her forehead when the phone on her desk suddenly rang, startling her and sending the pencil cup spilling all over the floor. Buffy grabbed the receiver and blurted, "Hello!"

It was Willow. She and Tara had been reapplying at their various classes that day. The redhead had just finished talking to one of her professors when she stumbled across a gory scene at a frat house. Some kind of big spider demon ripped out all the boys' hearts. Buffy got the impression her friend wasn't up for sidekick-ing, so she called on Xander, who was more than happy to tag along. If it weren't for the fact that it was broad daylight, she would've taken Spike.

The Claim had been making noticeable, but gradual, changes to Spike's vampiric nature. He'd built up some resistance to crosses, holy water, and sunlight—but not enough to keep these things from damaging him. Maybe someday he'd be able to take an afternoon stroll, but it seemed like a long ways off.

Buffy and Xander found the spider demon in the woods not far from the university. It had killed an unfortunate hiker, and Buffy got pretty scratched up in the ensuing confrontation, but in the end her axe won out.

They returned to Buffy's house to find Spike sitting in the living room with Tara and Willow. All three of them wore sober expressions. Buffy gave her vampire a questioning look. He shrugged. "They wanted to wait 'til you two got back."

"What is it?" Xander asked, picking up on the anxious vibe.

"You'd b-better sit down," Tara advised. Willow then proceeded to tell them everything; about the girl Willow found hiding in a closet at the massacred frat house; about the wish she'd made; about seeing Anya leaving that same house with blood splashed on her wrist.

At one point, Spike stood up and went to lean against the wall, arms crossed. The emotions he picked up from Buffy made him restless. The resignation and despair. It made him want to punch something.

Xander was in complete and utter shock that his ex would be involved in so many horrible deaths. He was also upset to be learning about it now rather than earlier. "When were you planning on telling us?" he accused.

Willow shifted uncomfortably. Tara placed a comforting hand on her knee. "We're telling you now," the redhead answered.

"Great. Thank you," Xander muttered sardonically. "Willow, it's Anya. How could you let us— How could you not have told us?"

"Xander," Buffy all but whispered.

"How could you not have told me?" he asked, hurt.

"Xander, it's okay," Buffy quietly interrupted, "They didn't tell us for a reason. They didn't tell us because they know what I have to do."

At Xander's questioning look, Spike responded for her, "She has to kill Anya."

"What?" Xander stared at his friend in horror.

"She's not the Anya that you knew, Xander," Buffy tried to explain, "She's a demon."

"That doesn't mean you have to kill her!"

Spike bit back a sharp response, mostly because Buffy silently asked him to stay quiet. Xander was upset enough without the vampire egging him on.

"Don't act like this is easy for me," Buffy admonished her friend, "You know it's not."

"There are other options," Xander insisted.

"I've considered them."

"When?" Xander snapped, "Just now? Took you all of ten seconds to decide to kill one of your best friends?"

"The thought that it might come to this has occurred to me before," Buffy replied, somber, "It's occurred to you, too."

"But we can change what she did. Fix it." He turned to the two witches in desperation. "These are mystical deaths, right? There has to be something."

"We don't have anywhere near that kind of power," Tara said, her expression sympathetic.

"And I-I don't think I trust the power I do have," Willow added. She lowered her head in defeat.

Tara gave her knee a squeeze. "It's okay, sweetie."

"Xander, I know this is hard for you to hear," Buffy told him, "but it's what I have to do."

"Hard for me to hear?" he stared at her, incredulous, "Buffy, you want to kill Anya."

"I don't want to."

"Then don't!" Xander's tone became accusing, "Or is this because you don't care about her the same way I do? Buffy, I still love her."

Buffy remained sympathetic. "I know. And that's why you can't see this for what it really is. Anya's a demon."

"And you're the Slayer." Xander chuckled humorlessly and gazed up at the ceiling. "I see now how it's all very simple."

Buffy shook her head. "It is never simple."

Xander got up from his seat and glared down at her. "No, of course not. Y'know, if there's a mass-murdering demon that you're, oh, say, boning, then it's all gray area."

Buffy stood as well, her outstretched hand halting Spike before the vampire could let out an angry outburst. "This isn't about Spike," she retorted, "I didn't stake him when he came to us because he was harmless."

"He had no choice!" Xander cried.

"And Anya did!" Buffy countered, "She chose to become a demon. Twice."

"You have no idea what she's going through."

Buffy turned away from him in frustration. "I don't care what she's going through."

"No, of course not," Xander's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You think we haven't all seen this before? The part where you just cut us all out, just step away from everything human and act like you're the law? If you knew what I felt—"

"I killed Angel."

Her words stopped him cold. Buffy faced him, all the remembered pain and sorrow blazing from her eyes. "Do you even remember that?" she asked.

Tara and Willow's gazes turned downward. Even Spike looked away as her emotions assaulted him. Emotions he couldn't help but feel hurt by, because they were for someone else, someone he hated.

"I would've given up everything I had to be with him," Buffy continued, voice raw, "I loved him more than I ever loved anything in my life. And I put a sword through his heart, because I had to." She glared at her oldest friends. "Do you remember cheering me on? Both of you. Do you remember giving me Willow's message? 'Kick his ass.'"

Willow's head jerked up in surprise and she threw a reproachful look at Xander. "I never said that!"

"This is different," Xander protested weakly.

"It is always different!" Buffy cried, "It's always complicated. And, at some point, someone has to draw the line, and that is always going to be me. You-You get down on me for cutting myself off, but in the end, the Slayer is always cut off. There's no mystical guide book, no all-knowing council. Human rules don't apply. There's only me. I am the law."

Xander stared at her helplessly. "There has to be another way."

"Then please find it," the Slayer begged.

With a shaky nod, Xander grabbed his jacket and left. Buffy went over to the weapons chest, pulled out a sword and an axe. She held the axe out towards Spike, uncertain, fearing she may have to do this awful task alone. Spike's gaze was steady as he took the weapon from her without hesitation. The sun was low enough now that he could safely go outside.

Buffy turned to the witches.

Willow chewed her lip. "I can't. I-I'm sorry."

Tara shook her head as well. Buffy nodded in understanding, then she and Spike grabbed their coats and went out the door to hunt Anya down.

Willow jumped up from her seat. "Come on."

"What are we doing?" Tara asked, following her girlfriend.

"Before we met, D'Hoffryn gave me his talisman," Willow told her, "If we can find it, I can use it to summon him."

"You think he'll help Anya?"

Willow pursed her lips. "I'm hoping."

In the end, they tracked Anya down to the scene of her crime; the frat house. And she wasn't alone.

"Buffy, get outta here," Xander demanded.

She and Spike readied their weapons. "Get out of our way, Xander."

"No."

"Get out of their way, Xander."

He turned to discover Anya shifted into her demonic form. Her arm lashed out and knocked him aside. Then the fight began.

It was easy to underestimate vengeance demons. They did so little direct confrontation that one could forget the fact that they were nearly indestructible, not to mention incredibly strong. Even an armed Slayer and vampire together had a hard time keeping up with her.

"C'mon, Buffy," Anya jeered, "Don't you have a clever retort for me?"

Buffy's expression was filled with regret. "Anya, I'm sorry."

"You're apologizing to me?" she scoffed, "What fight are you watching? Or is this like one of your little pop-culture references I don't get 'cause I'm a vengeance—" She lunged, Buffy dodged aside. Anya hit the wall and when she turned, Buffy plunged her sword through the demon's chest. Anya gasped, her head slumped, and her features returned to their human appearance.

Xander stirred from where he'd been knocked down. When he saw his ex literally pinned to the wall, his eyes widened in horror. "Anya!"

Anya gasped awake. She stared down at the sword jutting from her. "I'd forgotten how much swords through the chest hurt," she remarked, pulling the blade out of her with a pain-filled shriek. She gave the Slayer a chiding look. "You know better than that, Buffy. Takes a lot more to kill a vengeance demon."

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Buffy caught the axe Spike tossed to her just in time to block Anya's swing with the bloodied sword. There was a flurry of blows and clashing metal, then the sword was knocked from Anya's grasp and the demon fell from a kick to the midsection. As Buffy raised the axe to behead her, Anya lay passively, waiting for the end.

Xander tackled Buffy, knocking them both to the floor. Anya leapt to her feet and glared at the carpenter. "Stop trying to save me, Xander!"

A sudden burst of crackling light sent everyone sprawling. When they picked themselves up, they found D'Hoffryn standing in the middle of the floor. The Lower Being raised a hand, "Oh, please, don't mind me. Continue with whatever it was you were doing." He wandered over to the door leading to the room where all the bodies lay. "Oh, breathtaking! It's like somebody slaughtered an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog."

Buffy started to raise her axe when Spike gripped her arm. The vampire knew better than to threaten a Lower Being.

"Easy, now," D'Hoffryn cautioned, "I'd be gone before you could swing. Isn't that just like a Slayer? Solving all her problems by sticking things with sharp objects." He offered his hand to Anya, who hesitantly accepted his help in standing. "I talked to your friend, Ms. Rosenberg," D'Hoffryn stated with a grin, "She's a firebrand. I have high hopes for her."

Xander tensed. "Stay away from Willow."

"Oh, he's gallant, isn't he?" D'Hoffryn smirked, glanced at Anya, "I understand what you saw in him." He began to stride across the floor, hands clasped behind his back, tone conversationa. "Ms. Rosenberg seems to think Anyanka would be better suited outside the vengeance fold. I think we already know what Lady Hacks-Away and her vampire sidekick want. And the young man, well, he sees with the eyeballs of love. But I'm not sure if anyone's bothered to find out what Anyanka herself really wants."

"Her name is Anya," Xander argued. Spike gritted his teeth; idiot didn't know when to shut up.

Fortunately, D'Hoffryn continued with his cavalier attitude. "Actually, a funny historical sidebar. Her original name was—"

"I wanna take it back."

The Lower Being turned to Anya, his expression abruptly stilled. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Anya took a breath, "I wanna take it back. I want to undo what I did."

"Hmm. You want to take it back," though his voice remained casual, there was an underlying hardness that hadn't been there a moment before, "Must be twelve bodies in there. Such a thing—not easily done...but not impossible. You're a big girl, Anyanka. You understand how this works. The proverbial scales must balance. In order to restore the lives of the victims, the fates require a sacrifice. The life and soul of a vengeance demon."

Anya drew herself up, nodded once. "Do it."

"Wait!" Xander yelled.

"Stay out of this, Xander."

"Okay, right. That seems smart," he fidgeted anxiously, "But he just said you have to die! Perhaps there's some sort of...alternate price?"

"Xander," Anya looked at him with teary eyes, a sad smile on her face, "You can't help me. I'm not even sure there's a me to help." She turned back to her soon-to-be-former master. "I understand the price. Do it."

"You're sure?" D'Hoffryn asked, as if he were asking whether she wanted two lumps in her tea, "This is your wish?"

"This is my wish," Anya stated, utterly calm, "Undo what I did."

D'Hoffryn pursed his lips and nodded. "Very well." He clapped his hands once.

"No!" Xander cried.

There was a flash, then suddenly Halfrek was standing before them all. The puzzled vengeance demon's eyes fastened on her closest friend and a delighted smile lit up her face. "Anya!"

"Hallie?" Anya looked at D'Hoffryn, saw his stony expression and felt a weight of dread come over her. Before she could say anything, she saw Halfrek throw her head back and scream as flames erupted from her mouth and eyes. The flames quickly engulfed her entire body. Within moments there was nothing left.

Buffy felt a pained tremor through the link, saw the way Spike kept his face carefully neutral. Of course he was affected by Halfrek's senseless death. When he was William and she was Cecily, she had been his first love. Didn't matter that his love was one-sided. You never completely get over your first love. Buffy knew that first-hand.

D'Hoffryn's enraged eyes fixed on Anya. "Who did you think you were dealing with?" he snarled, his mask of affability stripped away by his favorite demon's spurning, "Did you think it would be that easy to get away?"

Anya shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes. "Why?"

"Why?" D'Hoffryn laughed bitterly, "Because you wished it!"

"But she was yours."

"The way you were mine? Haven't I taught you anything, Anya?" he spat the name, "Never go for the kill when you can go for the pain. I've got plenty of girls. There will always be vengeance demons, but now you, Anya, you're out. Congratulations. Your wish is granted."

Anya swallowed, guilt and sorrow breaking her heart. "You should've killed me."

D'Hoffryn scoffed, "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." He turned to address them all, intoning the all-too-familiar words, "From beneath you, it devours. Be patient. All good things in time." And with that, he vanished.

Anya stood forlornly, then slowly walked out the door and into the night. Xander hesitated, clearly wanting to follow. From the other room, the sounds of the confused resurrected frat boys could be heard.

"Go," Buffy said to her friend, "We'll check on the boys."

Grateful, Xander hurried after his departed ex. Buffy's worried gaze settled on Spike.

"Later," the vampire stated tersely. Buffy nodded and the two of them went to make sure all the frat boys were unharmed.

Dawn, Willow, and Tara were apparently already in bed by the time Spike and Buffy returned home. Buffy put away the weapons. As she closed the trunk, she saw the vampire sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, head lowered. She went to sit beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. She didn't say a word; didn't have to. Her gentle comforting radiated through the link.

After a while, Spike began to talk. "First time I met Cecily was at one of those bloody awful debutante balls. She was wearing a white gown with a light blue floral pattern, and she looked every bit as bored as I was." A smile tugged at his lips. "I managed to work up the courage to introduce myself. She was...polite. Chatted about nothin' for maybe five minutes before some bloke asked her to dance. I think she was eager to get away from me by then," he chuckled humorlessly, then his smile faded, "I was in love with her ever since."

"I'm sorry," Buffy rubbed her hand across his shoulders, "And I'm sorry I brought up Angel—"

"Harris needed reminding." Spike's level gaze met hers. "Whelp's quick to forget your sacrifices."

"He was upset. He wasn't thinking."

The vampire scoffed, ran his hands through his platinum hair, mussing the curls. "No, he never does. Bloody git." A muscle jumped in his cheek. "If he'd manned up and called off the wedding instead of dumping Anya at the altar, she wouldn't have gone runnin' back to D'Hoffryn. Wouldn't have trapped herself in a situation she didn't have the stomach for anymore. And Halfrek wouldn't have had to die so Anya could get out of it again." Spike shook his head in disgust. "Everybody thinks Harris is so harmless. The soddin' comic relief. Including you," he looked at Buffy, "But he's done as much damage as any demon you've had to kill."

Buffy's lip trembled. "S-Spike—"

He cut her off with a sudden, intense kiss. When they finally drew apart he rasped, "You could've been killed, too, Buffy. You could've died." He kissed her again, desperately.

Buffy wound her arms around him and gave into his need. How many times had he comforted her this way? Given her exactly what she needed when her emotions were raw. Now it was her turn, and she did so without reservation.

Spike shoved the coffee table away and lay her down on the floor. As he tugged at her jeans, Buffy tried to pull his T-shirt off, only succeeding in hindering them both. They finally gave up and undressed themselves, then came together in a tangle of limbs. As Spike slid into her, Buffy's emotions sang through the link. Love...sooth...comfort.

Spike's breath hitched. Love...need...hurt.

Buffy's legs tightened around his waist. She turned her head, baring the Claim mark to him. Her hand cupped the back of Spike's head and gently drew him down. She heard bones shift as he slipped into gameface, then his fangs slid into her neck.

Yes, the link sang, and it was impossible to tell one from the other in that moment, Joy...love...belonging.

Spike released her throat and licked the wounds closed. His features melted back into human form and his lips met Buffy's. With one final thrust, he came, and she followed, their muffled cries filling the silent living room.

Buffy smiled and traced his features with her fingertips. Spike turned his head to kiss her palm. A low purr of contentment rumbled in his chest. Buffy loved that sound. She'd been surprised and delighted the first time she heard it. It only happened when Spike was at his happiest.

Reluctantly, she pushed him away so she could sit up. "How about we go upstairs? Bed's comfier than the floor."

Grinning, Spike pulled Buffy to her feet, then helped her gather up their discarded clothes and followed her up the stairs.