A/N: Here's one of my favorite episodes of Season 7. I was pretty tickled to hear writer/director David Fury say in the episode's commentary that Spike was an anomaly among vampires because he retained a spark of humanity after he was turned. They just never got around to explaining why this is. Also, in an interview I read, James Marsters mentioned that he'd always played Spike as if he had a soul, right from the beginning.

See? Even the cast and crew of BtVS knew Spike was something special. :-) Now, on to the chapter!

Oh, and Happy Birthday, mrs pratt. ;-)

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

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

I sit waiting for my darkest hour to come

I cannot think about the things that I have done

It shouldn't take a fool to see that I believe

Accept the consequence, repent for what I've done

You tell me what is certain, but I'll tell you what is true

You tell me what is honesty, when all around is death and cruelty

The making of a man is fire, not giving into our desires

Within the truth it lies within the only thing

-Iron Maiden, "Mother of Mercy"

Robin had asked to patrol with Buffy the same night she and Spike planned to clear out a fairly large nest rumored to have sprung up within a mile of the high school. Buffy's first impulse had been to politely turn him down, but then she reconsidered; it would be good to see how well Spike and the principal worked together. They seemed to do okay the week before when she and Andrew shut down the Seal of Danzalthar. She did worry how Spike would handle having a tag-along, though.

"Long as he doesn't get in the way, fine by me," the vampire shrugged. Buffy knew he said it mostly because she wanted this to work, and she appreciated it.

Wood proved he was able to hold his own when they took down the nest. There were over a dozen vampires, most of them fledgelings, which they dusted with deadly efficiency. Soon the three hunters were down to the last three vamps; the oldest and most experience, from the look of it. The battle raged in one of the typical venues for vampire slaying; a deserted alley.

The vamp Spike fought was swinging an old shovel with a broken handle. The idiot kept trying to hit Spike with the blade, when he really should have used the jagged end of the handle like a spear. Spike managed to wrestle the weapon from his opponent, twirled the shovel with unnecessary flair, then staked the vampire with the broken handle.

Buffy noticed from the corner of her eye that Robin was showing signs of tiring. It wouldn't be long before the vampire he fought overcame him. Unfortunately, Buffy was too busy with her own vamp to help him out. Seeing that Spike was free, she called out to him and nodded in the principal's direction. The platinum blonde nodded back and sauntered towards the struggling pair, idly swinging his pilfered shovel back and forth in one hand.

The vampire punched Wood in the face, then flung him into some nearby trashcans. He rolled off of them and landed on the hard ground, the wind knocked out of him. As the vampire loomed over the stunned principal, Spike came up behind it and staked it in the back. As the dust settled, Spike offered his hand. Robin reluctantly accepted it and let the blonde vampire pull him to his feet.

"A little tip, mate," Spike tossed the shovel aside, "Stake's your friend. Don't be afraid to use it." He frowned at the piercing stare Robin focused on him. "What?"

Robin mutely shook his head. He watched Spike turn away and stride over to where Buffy was finishing off the last vamp. He saw Spike say something to her, but couldn't make out the words. Heard her laugh before she staked the vampire and wiped the dust from her clothes. Spike put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Robin's expression remained stoic, but his grip on his stake tightened until the edge of the wood cut into his palm, drawing blood.

"Just waiting for my moment," he murmured.

Buffy smiled as she made her way down the crowded school hallway towards the faculty office. All the damage and chaos of last week's riot had been swept away. The kids were once again just ordinary, bored, angsty teens trying to get through another day of classes.

She stuck her head into the principal's office. "Situation still normal," she said to Wood in greeting, "Or as normal as this school ever sees. No fires. No one's head's going kablooey. And the swing choir and the marching band have gone back to their normal, healthy, seething resentment."

"Yeah, it's been pretty quiet around here since you shut down that seal," Robin agreed, "You just may have stopped this thing, Buffy."

She very nearly laughed at his naïve optimism. "No, i-it can't be that easy."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You call that easy?"

"Hey, any apocalypse I avert without dying? Yeah, those are the easy ones."

The principal smiled fondly at her. He shoved his hands into his pockets—the left one bandaged from the night before—and looked down at his shoes, almost shyly. "You know, you're, uh, you're something else, Miss Summers," he spoke with uncharacteristic awkwardness, "I've been watching you when we're out patrolling, and you're, um... You remind me of my, um..."

Buffy's expression softened. "Your mother?"

Wood nodded. "Yeah. What I remember of her, anyway."

"I gotta tell you, not a line every girl likes to hear," she grinned, "But in this case, compliment taken. Maybe you're right. Maybe everything is fine."

"Everything's terrible!" a frantic Giles burst into the office, "Total catastrophe!"

"Giles, what's wrong?" Buffy straightened in alarm. When she'd talked to the Watcher over the phone earlier and asked him to meet her at the high school he'd sounded perfectly calm. What could have happened between then and now?

"Have you seen the new library?" Giles sputtered, "Th-Th-There's nothing but computers! There's not a book to be seen. I—I don't know where to begin, Buffy. I-I mean, who do—who do we speak to?"

Buffy slumped in relief and stifled her laughter. An amused Robin raised his bandaged hand, "Uh, that—that would be me. Hi. I'm Robin Wood."

"Oh! Uh, sorry. Yes, uh, Rupert Giles," he shook the principal's hand, "Uh, B-Buffy tells me that you're something of a freelance demon fighter."

"Yes. Excuse me." Robin hurried to shut his office door. Wouldn't do for someone to overhear the conversation.

"Um, I, um...I'm relieved. We're running dangerously low on allies," Giles confided.

"So, we didn't stop it, then?" Buffy sighed, not at all surprised.

Giles shook his head. "Um, no, the, uh, seers of the coven are certain the First is continuing to gather its forces. I'm afraid war is inevitable." He removed his glasses, gave them a few desultory wipes with his handkerchief, then put them back on. "So, we should go before the school board."

Wood blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Well, I-I can have my backup library sent from home in the meantime. You know, it's not much, but—"

"Giles," Buffy couldn't quite hide the amusement in her voice.

"Knowledge comes from crafted bindings and pages, Buffy, not ones and zeros," the Watcher admonished.

Buffy decided a change in subject was called for. "So, did you bring back any Potentials?"

Giles's expression fell. "Th-There was one girl, but I'm afraid I-I wasn't able to find her in time."

"Oh, god. I'm sorry." Buffy was sorry she asked.

A mournful silence fell over the three of them. Then Giles visibly pulled himself together and forced a smile on his face. "Now, why don't you fill me in on everything that happened while I was away?"

Spike wasn't normally given to reflection, but lately he'd been thinking a lot about the past. Probably because of Robin Wood's increasing presence. Spike knew damn well his actions had shaped the man's entire life. He'd never really faced the consequences of past misdeeds before. Never stuck around long enough for them to catch up. Now here they were—vampire, Slayer, and Slayer's son—all fighting to save the world as if drawn together by fate. Hell, it probably was fate. Either that or sheer bloody irony.

Nikki Wood. Spike often thought about her in the years since their fatal encounter. He used to look back on their battle with pleasure, but lately he felt something...he wasn't sure what. Not guilt, exactly. Regret, maybe? Not for killing Nikki—even with a soul and a conscience, Spike still didn't feel any remorse for ending the Slayer's life. Either Slayer's life. If not him, it would've been some other vamp or demon who had that one good day. It was the whole nature of the vampire/Slayer dynamic. But he did regret leaving that little boy an orphan. He could sympathize with that, having lost his own mother through tragic circumstances. Maybe that's what he was feeling; sympathy.

He hadn't felt anything about the boy back then. All he'd cared about was bagging his second Slayer. Spike and Drusilla had been in New York with plans to hitch a ride on a cargo ship bound for Europe when Spike started hearing rumors of a Slayer in the city. He couldn't let an opportunity like that slip away. It took him months to find her; New York was a big place, after all. He found out where she lived, the places she patrolled. Watched her in action against various fledgelings and minor demons. She was good. The last Slayer he fought, in China, had been all business. But Nikki had style.

She was no amateur, either. She knew Spike was stalking her. That was why she kept her son by her side at all times; she didn't trust anyone else to protect him. That was why little Robin was there when Spike confronted Nikki for the first time in Central Park. Spike had ignored the child huddling behind a nearby park bench. He wasn't interested in the sprog; all he cared about was Nikki.

The rain was pouring down that night, so much so that it was hard to see. Their waterlogged clothes weighed both combatants down, making the fight that much more challenging. It was the most fun Spike had in a long while.

"Well, all right!" he laughed in delight, "Got the moves, don't ya? I'm gonna ride you hard before I put you away, luv."

The Slayer looked unimpressed. "You sure about that? You actually look a little wet and limp to me. And I ain't your 'luv.'"

They were evenly matched. There really was no way to predict who would win, which was just the way Spike liked it. It wasn't any fun if you already knew the outcome. But in the end, he managed to get the upper hand. He grabbed Nikki's wrist as she took a swing at him and twisted her around so her back was pressed to his front, her arm twisted behind her. Spike held her in place with his left arm pinned across her chest and brought his fangs towards her vulnerable neck. It was in that moment that young Robin accidentally knocked over a trashcan, distracting the vampire for one vital second. Nikki reared, the back of her head colliding with Spike's face. She elbows him in the stomach, then flipped him over her shoulder. Spike rolled back onto his feet with catlike reflexes. Nikki threw her stake at his chest. It was luck as much as skill that enabled him to catch the stake mere inches from his heart. He grinned, baring his razor sharp fangs.

"I spent a long time trackin' you down," he declared, "Don't really want the dance to end so soon. Do you, Nikki? The music's just startin', isn't it?" He tossed the stake aside, climbed up onto the ledge of a sheer drop a few paces away. The view of the city from there would have been spectacular had the weather been clearer. "By the way," Spike added just before he jumped, "love the coat."

Two nights later, he and Nikki had their last encounter in the subway, and Spike wore her coat ever since.

"Hey." Buffy waved a hand in front of his eyes, snapping him out of his reverie. He blinked up at her, sitting on the cot in the basement, hiding out from the wannabe Slayers while they stampeded through the house. Buffy sat down beside him, her hand resting on his knee. "You looked like you were a million miles away. What're you thinking about?"

"Nothin' important." He put his arm around her, let her rest her head on his shoulder. She sighed in contentment.

"Tired?" Spike asked.

"Hmm," Buffy muttered in reply, "Seems like I'm always tired these days."

"Chits upstairs are runnin' you ragged."

"Among other things," she agreed, her words starting to slur as she let herself relax.

Spike gently rubbed her back and hummed a quiet tune. After a moment Buffy mumbled, "'S nice. What is it?"

He smiled, reminiscing. "It's called 'Early One Morning.' Old folk ditty," he told her. "It was my mum's favorite. She used to sing it to me," he paused, then added, "When I was a baby."

A smile tugged the corner of her mouth. "I remember that. Only you were way older than a baby when she sang it to you."

Spike chuckled. It always surprised him when Buffy related these snippets from his past. While he knew she had viewed his life during her time in Heaven, he still didn't entirely believe it. It just seemed too strange to be true, having someone know him so well. Better than even Dru had known him.

"When the First had me," Spike hesitated when he felt Buffy tense, "When I felt myself slippin' away, I kept hearing that song, like someone was singing it to me."

Buffy lifted her eyes to gaze up at him. "You were hearing your mom sing it?"

Spike shook his head. "Different voice. Younger. Didn't recognize it." He frowned in thought. "Sometimes it was like it was the only thing keepin' me from fading altogether."

Buffy had an inkling of suspicion at who this mysterious singer was. Before she said anything on the matter, though, the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen drifted down into the basement.

"I'll get it!" Andrew's distant voice shouted. The phone cut off mid-ring. A moment later, Andrew yelled, "Willow! Call for you from LA! Somebody named Fred! The guy sounds kind of effeminate!"

Buffy frowned. If the call was from LA, it probably had something to do with Angel. But why call Willow, if that was the case? It looked like she was going to get her answer as the redhead descended the basement stairs a few minutes later.

"Buffy? Hey, I, uh, just got a phone call. I'm gonna have to take off for a while, maybe a day or two."

Buffy stood and approached her friend, her brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

Willow held up a forestalling hand. "Nothing you need to worry about. I'll give you the full scoop later," she smiled reassuringly, "Maybe I'll even bring back some good news."

"Could use a little of that," Buffy sighed, "Okay, then I guess now is as good a time as we're likely to see for a while. Just hurry back."

"Will do. Tara should be able to take care of any magical problems you might have 'til I get back." Willow hugged her goodbye, then trotted back up the stairs.

"What d'you suppose that's all about?" Spike wondered.

Buffy shrugged and rejoined him on the cot. "Don't know. Might have something to do with Angel."

"Wouldn't Red have said so?"

Buffy exhaled, "Not if he's in trouble. The kinda trouble only magic can handle."

Spike frowned. He never liked it when Buffy talked about Angel. He especially didn't like it when she was worried about her ex. She had enough concerns; why should the Great Poof monopolize what little spare time she had?

Sensing his resentment, Buffy leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Take it easy. I'm just worried about him as a friend, that's all."

Spike grunted, but his expression relaxed a little.

Buffy checked her watch. "It's getting late. I should get ready for patrol." She gave him a regretful look. "It's not as much fun on my own."

"It was your idea for one of us to stay and watch over the girls," he pointed out, "Unless you wanna change your mind..."

Buffy grimaced, shook her head. "No. I kept worrying all last night when we were both taking care of that nest. Now with Willow gone, the girls'll be more at risk than ever."

"Just have to grin and bear it, then."

Buffy managed a faint smile, leaned over and kissed him again. "I'll see you later."

"Yep." Spike slumped back on the cot as he watched her ascend the basement stairs, wishing he could go with her.

Buffy was surprised when Giles followed her out the front door as she headed out for patrol.

"Buffy, there's something I need to discuss with you in private."

"Um, okay." She frowned, puzzled by the Watcher's furtiveness.

It wasn't until they entered the cemetery that Giles finally broke the silence. "I'm—I'm afraid this is a matter of some delicacy."

"Is this about that thing in LA Willow had to go to?" Buffy asked, her anxiety over Angel's well-being flaring for just a second.

"LA? N-No, i-it's actually about Principal Wood."

She blinked in surprise. "Robin? What about him?"

Agitated, Giles removed his glasses and began obsessively cleaning them. Buffy remembered the time he broke a lens doing that and wondered if it was about to happen again.

"A-Are you aware that Wood's mother was a Slayer?" Giles asked.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy smiled sheepishly, "I probably should've mentioned that. Robin told me."

Giles nodded, still cleaning away at his glasses. "And did he tell you the circumstances of his mother's death?"

Buffy slowly came to a halt, a sense of dread creeping up on her. "He told me she was killed by a vampire."

"Did he tell you who that vampire was?"

She bit her lip, shook her head. "He said he didn't know."

Giles finally tucked his handkerchief away and put his glasses on. "Well, evidently he obtained the knowledge since then."

"Oh, god." Buffy closed her eyes and rubbed her hand across them.

Giles looked at her, his face grim. "So, you know it was Spike."

Buffy nodded, eyes still closed. "I told Spike about Robin's mom. He figured it out. But how did Robin find out?"

"I don't know," Giles shuffled his feet, "What I do know is that Wood approached me earlier this evening. He asked me to—to distract you while he lured Spike into a trap. Apparently he believed that, as a Watcher, I would be sympathetic to his...cause."

Buffy frowned at him. "What'd you tell him?"

The Watcher heaved a weary sigh. "I think I managed to convince him to delay his plans for the time being. But, Buffy," his earnest gaze met hers, "Wood is intent on eliminating Spike. Not only for revenge, but because he believes your...attachment to Spike is a liability. He thinks your relationship is clouding your judgment."

"Great," Buffy grumbled, "Yet another guy who thinks he knows what's best for me." She rubbed her hands over her face. "God, as if I didn't have enough on my plate!"

A hand burst out of a fresh grave and clawed at the air. Buffy sighed and drew her stake.

Spike finished off his dinner and rinsed out the mug before setting it aside with the other dishes waiting to be washed. His ears picked up the sound of someone knocking at the front door. Curious, he went to answer and his eyes narrowed on discovering Robin waiting on the front step.

"I need to talk to Buffy," the demon hunter stated without preamble.

"Do you, now?" Spike leaned against the doorjamb, "'Fraid she's out patrolling, but I'll let her know you stopped by."

Wood reached out and placed his hand against the door before Spike could shut it in his face. "This is urgent. I ran into a demon a little while ago and I need her help to take it out."

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. "What kind of demon?"

Robin shrugged, "'Bout seven feet tall, gray skin, big horns and hooves. Y'know, classic demonic look."

"Hmph," Spike grunted, "Might be a Fyarl. They're tough buggers."

"I can't take it on alone," Robin said.

"I'll say you can't. Hang on." Spike turned away and headed into the living room. Wood followed the peroxided vampire into the house, shutting the door behind him. He saw Spike pick something up from the end table with a frown. "She's always forgettin' her cellphone," Spike grumbled.

"I don't have time to track her down," Wood declared, an edginess to his voice, "That demon could kill a dozen people out for some late-night clubbing before I find her."

Spike pursed his lips, debating with himself. He had told Buffy that he would stay and watch over the Potentials, but there was a dangerous demon out there, and even if he called her home through their link, it would still take longer than if he went with Robin himself to take care of the problem. Spike finally nodded to himself. "I'll go with you. Just gimme a minute to let Tara know."

Robin nodded and waited stoically by the door. Spike returned a moment later, putting on his duster. Robin's mouth twitched slightly at the sight of the coat.

"Don't suppose you got a silver knife handy?" the vampire asked, "Only way to kill a Fyarl's to stab it through the heart with a silver blade." Unfortunately, Buffy didn't have one.

Wood nodded. "Got a silver dagger back at my place. We can swing by and pick it up."

The two of them rode together in Robin's car, the silence between them full of tension. Robin pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. "Come on."

Spike cocked his head as the principal led him to a rough wooden building. "You live in a garage?"

"It's just a workroom," Robin answered, using a key on the padlock holding the door closed, "Kind of my, uh, sanctuary."

"A little place to unwind, eh?" Spike followed him into the dark interior, "A hard day's principaling got you down, you need a place to cut loose, let your hair down. So to speak."

He heard the door click shut behind him, then a light switched on. Spike's eyes widened at what it revealed; the walls were lined with dozens of crosses. Most were simple planks of wood nailed together, while others were more ornate. They covered every surface of the walls, including the windows. Spike looked over his shoulder and saw they were even on the inside of the garage door. "What the bloody hell is this?"

"I told you. It's my sanctuary." Wood smirked at the vampire's dismay. "It's the Hellmouth, Spike. You can never be too careful. Just, um, stay away from the walls, you'll be alright." He walked over to a desk and pulled open a drawer, presumably to get the silver knife. His broad back obscured Spike's view.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Spike frowned in suspicion. "What's your story, Wood?"

"No story, really. Just tryin' to do what's right, make a difference." Robin shed his outer shirt, leaving him in a tank top that bared his muscular arms and powerful shoulders. "How 'bout you? What kind of man are you, Spike?"

"Sorry. Not much for self-reflection," the vampire replied, eyeing the man warily.

"Yeah. Makes sense," Wood muttered sardonically. His muscles bunched and twitched as he fidgeted with something out of Spike's view. "See, you strike me as the kind of guy who just careens through life," he mused aloud, "completely oblivious of the damage he's doing to everyone around him."

"Is that right?" Spike tensed.

"Oh, I know more about you than you think, Spike. See, I've been searching for you for...a very, very long time," Robin turned his head, eyes locking with Spike's over his shoulder, "Ever since you killed my mother."

Oh, balls, Spike groaned inwardly. But he continued to feign ignorance for the moment, "Killed a lot of people's mothers."

Robin snorted, "Yeah. You'd remember mine. She was a Slayer."

Just walked right into the wanker's trap, didn't you? Stupid git, Spike berated himself. "So, that's it, innit? You brought me here to kill me."

Wood finally turned to face him. On his left hand he wore a fingerless glove with studded metal all along the back and knuckles. On his right arm he had on a brace with a spiked metal elbow and built-in brass knuckles. "No. I don't want to kill you, Spike," he stated calmly, "I wanna kill the monster who took my mother away from me."

Without warning, his hand lashed out. Spike saw an open bottle gripped in Wood's hand, saw the liquid inside arc out and splash across the vampire's chest. Spike roared in pain as the holy water seared him, morphing into his vamp-face on reflex.

"There he is," Robin declared with quiet satisfaction.

Buffy gasped and stumbled, almost giving the fledgeling the opening it needed to bite her. She quickly recovered and staked the vamp, then abruptly spun and ran off before the dust even had time to settle.

"Buffy?" Giles called after her.

"It's Spike!" she shouted back. She didn't even pause to give the Watcher a chance to catch up. There was no time. Heart pounding in fear, Buffy raced towards her lover, praying she would get to him before whatever danger he'd come across overcame him.

Robin's metal-clad fist slammed into the vampire's face. Spike snarled.

"That's right, dog! Fight back!" Robin dodged Spike's swinging fist and backhanded him, sending the vampire staggering back a step. He pressed his braced right arm across Spike's throat and shoved him into the nearest wall. He punched the vampire in the stomach, eliciting another roar, then forced Spike's head to turn until his cheek pressed against one of the many crosses on the wall. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then there was a sizzle and smoke began to rise from the vampire's burning flesh.

Spike knocked Wood's arms away and shoved him back. He lunged after the man, but a sudden kick sent him flying into a bookshelf. The shelf splintered from the impact and Spike found himself sprawled on the floor, books and broken bits of shelving raining down on him.

"Hurts, don't it?" Robin loomed over the dazed vampire. He bent down and grabbed the collar of Spike's shirt. "This what it felt like?" his fist smashed into the vampire's jaw, "When you beat the life out of her?" Another punch. "Toyed with her?" Yet another hit. "When you snapped her neck!" he screamed into the peroxide blonde's face, striking him again and again.

Spike felt as if his brain was rattling in his skull. Part of him knew he should fight back, that he would die if he didn't move. But another part of him couldn't help but think that maybe he deserved it. He'd murdered Wood's mother, after all, for nothing more than a thrill.

He suddenly found himself thinking about his own mother. What he did to her. He'd only wanted to save her, but instead he'd damned her. Brought forth a monster that tore into him with hateful words. Every resentment, every angry thought against him, no longer balanced by the love she'd felt. Things she never would have said to him in life. So much venom and disgust in her eyes.

"An animal like you," Robin panted, "never cared for anyone but yourself." He removed the glove and arm braced, tossed them onto the desk. "No one else mattered. Just...all about the hunt." He roughly pulled the duster off Spike, the vampire too stunned to react. Wood folded the coat and set it aside, then reached over and yanked one of the crosses off the wall. This one had been sharpened at one end so it could double as a stake. He carried the weapon over to the beaten vampire, raised it in anticipation of plunging it into the creature's heart.

Spike remembered staking his mother. It was one of the most painful memories he carried. But in that bare instant before she dusted, her vampiric features had melted away and she'd looked at him with the barest hint of a smile. Just for that one second, she'd been his mother again. "I'm sorry."

Robin froze. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Spike repeated, his eyes unfocused.

Robin's face twisted in rage and he drove the stake towards the vampire's chest. Spike's hand reached up, lightning-quick, and grabbed the man's wrist, halting it mid-swing. Then he kicked out, sending Robin careening across he room, dropping the cross in the process. Robin glared at him as he rose gracefully to his feet.

"Sorry?" Wood snarled, incredulous, "You think sorry's gonna make everything right?"

"I wasn't talking to you," Spike retorted. He dodged Wood's flying kick, grabbed his fist as it swung at him and punched the man in the gut, then jabbed him in the face. "I don't give a piss about your mum," the vampire stated bluntly, "She was a Slayer. I was a vampire. That's the way the game is played."

"Game?" Robin spat. He lunged, but Spike easily evaded him and got in a couple more brutal hits. While Robin was reeling from those, Spike grabbed the overhead lighting fixture and used it to swing towards him, kicking him in the chest with both feet.

Spike let himself drop back down to the floor. "She knew what she was siginin' up for."

"Well, I didn't sign up for it!" Wood cried, scrambling back to his feet.

"Well, that's the rub, isn't it?" Spike replied sardonically, "You didn't sign up for it, and somehow it's my fault."

"You took my childhood," Robin snarled, futilely trying to attack with wildly swinging fists, "You took her away!" Spike's hand struck him in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Robin glared in hatred. "She was all I had. She was my world!"

"And you weren't hers," Spike stated coolly, "Doesn't that piss you off?"

"Shut up. You didn't know her!" He spun and kicked, but Spike knocked him down. He tried to kick out from the floor and Spike caught him by the ankle.

"I know Slayers." Spike swung Robin's body up by the leg and slammed him into the wall. Robin collapsed to the floor, too battered and exhausted to fight anymore.

"No matter how many people they've got around 'em, they fight alone," the vampire scoffed, "Life of the Chosen One. The rest of us be damned. Your mother was no different."

"No," Wood rasped, one hand clutching his aching ribs, "Sh—She loved me."

"But not enough to quit, though, was it? Not enough to walk away. For you." Spike knelt down in front of the beaten man, their gazes now level. "I'll tell you a story, about a mother and son. See, like you, I loved my mother. So much so, I turned her into a vampire. So we could be together, forever." His mouth twisted in irony. "She said some nasty bits to me after I did that. Been weighin' on me for quite some time. But you helped me figure somethin' out. You see, unlike you, I had a mother who loved me back. When I sired her, I set loose a demon, and it tore into me. But it was the demon talking, not her. I realize that, now." Spike smiled. "My mother loved me, with all her heart. I was her world." He stood, loomed over Wood, his voice calm, almost conversational, "I just wanted you to know that...before I kill you."

Spike shifted into his gameface, grabbed the man off the floor and sank his fangs into Robin's throat.

Buffy didn't slow her inhuman pace even when she sensed through the link that the danger to Spike was past. Her terror wouldn't fade until she saw with her own eyes that he was okay.

She saw him up ahead, stepping out of a garage, coat in hand. No sooner did he put the duster on than Buffy slammed into him, the impact nearly bowling them both over. Spike put his arms around her trembling body and whispered reassurances into her hair. "I'm alright, luv. It's okay."

It took a few minutes for Buffy to quit shaking. The fear and adrenaline had taken a toll. When she was finally calm enough, she pulled back to look at him. Her hand reached up to gently touch the edges of the burn on Spike's cheek. "What happened?"

Reluctantly, Spike drew away and reached over to push the garage door open. Buffy's eyes widened at the sight of Robin Wood's slumped form. The man slowly raised his head and looked at her through his left eye, his other eye swollen shut.

"I gave him a pass," Spike told her, "Let him live, on account of the fact I killed his mother. But that's all he gets. He even so much as looks at me funny again, I'll kill him."

Buffy looked at him, nodded. "Go on home. I need to say a few things to Wood."

Spike turned away without another word and headed off for Revello Drive. Buffy entered the garage and helped Robin get to his feet. Only then did she notice the crosses all over the walls. Appalled, she looked at Robin. "How long have you been planning this?"

Wood didn't answer, but his grim expression said enough.

Buffy's mouth compressed to a thin line. "How did you find out?"

Robin's gaze turned aside. "Someone told me."

"Who?"

He didn't answer. Buffy let out a humorless laugh. "It was the First, wasn't it?"

"You saying it lied?" Wood challenged.

"I'm saying you played right into its hand!" Buffy snapped, "Spike is the strongest warrior we have. And we are gonna need him if we're gonna come out of this thing alive. But all you can fixate on is getting revenge on a man who doesn't exist anymore."

"Buffy, don't delude yourself," Robin argued, "That man still exists."

She made an impatient gesture. "I have a mission to win this war. To save this world. I don't have time for vendettas. The mission is what matters. If you can't remember that, then you have no business getting involved." She glared at him, letting her rage show. "If you try anything again, he'll kill you," she told him in a low, dangerous voice, "More importantly, if he doesn't...I will."

Robin stared at her, saw that it was not an empty threat. His heart sank at this realization.

Buffy turned her back on him and walked away, leaving him to tend to his own wounds.

The house was quiet when she got back. Everyone was asleep. Well, nearly everyone. Buffy ran into Giles in the hall on her way to her room. She let out a guilty sigh; she'd forgotten all about him.

The Watcher's face was etched with concern as he asked, "Is Spike alright?"

"He's okay," Buffy told him, "Wood failed. Spike let him live."

Giles nodded, relieved. "I-I'm sorry, Buffy. I honestly didn't believe he would make his move this soon."

"It's not your fault." Buffy chewed her lip. "Wood said it was the First who told him Spike killed his mother."

Giles's expression turned grim. "The First is trying to turn us against each other."

"Well, in Wood's case, it succeeded," she heaved a weary sigh.

Giles gently gripped her shoulder. "Get some rest, Buffy. We'll figure out what to do about Wood in the morning."

Buffy nodded and made her way to the bedroom. She paused near the bathroom, heard the shower running. She checked the link, then entered the bathroom instead. Spike's form was only a faint silhouette behind the shower curtain. Steam clouded the room, fogging up the mirror over the sink. Buffy wordlessly shed her clothes, undid her braided hair, then slipped into the shower, hardly stirring the curtain.

Spike stood with his back to her, head tilted back as the hot water cascaded over his aching body. Buffy slid her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. After a moment, Spike turned, eyes still closed, and found her lips with his. And so, for a while, they found comfort and reassurance in each other.