Back With Me

Part One

"Hit me."

An eyebrow arched up at the firm words. "Are you quite sure about that? Doesn't seem like a good idea, mate."

A resolved nod in response. "Hit me. I mean it."

"Well, if you're sure about that," Spike drawled then reached out a quick hand, expertly flipping the card across the table. "Six of spades. That makes 22, sorry, luv, thanks for playing."

Xander just groaned, what had possessed him to do that? He still never knew what to do if he was holding sixteen, just seemed too close to call.

"Pet, not necessarily a bad decision, just make sure you have the money to lose, can go either way. Besides," Spike dealt himself another card, "dealer would have had twenty so you were fucked either way."

Xander just nodded, watching Spike's elegant hands scoop up the cards and shuffle them together.

"Now, once again, what are the three cardinal lessons?" Spike fanned the deck, then placed it on the table, cutting and recutting the cards, idly palming a card now and then, just for the practice.

"One, always stand on seventeen. Two, set your limit BEFORE you sit at the table. Three, the house always wins." Xander absently repeated, concentrating on watching Spike's hands. Damn, he could never see how he managed to do that. Everything looked fine, then suddenly the ace of spades appeared in Spike's hand. Damn vampire speed, wasn't fair.

"Why did you pick this, luv? Could have taught you craps just as easily, less relative odds to keep in your head." Spike dealt out the cards and Xander grinned when he saw his hand.

"Blackjack, take that you cocky vamp," he chortled, seeing Spike's lowly ten and three.

"Better to be lucky than good," Spike grinned back. "Seriously, why this of all the things you could have chosen."

Xander just shrugged. "Wanted to learn some kind of card came, didn't want to be reduced to playing slots the whole time. Baccarat has that whole Bond, James Bond thing, and, as you proved last week, I can't bluff for shit so poker's out." He winced a little at that thought. He had lost $200 in about twenty minutes and Spike had never been allowed to touch the deck. Damn vampires and their three facial expressions.

"So you pick the one game that rewards Stephen Hawking like math skills." Spike just shook his head affectionately. "Well, I'll just be here, waiting for the call to wire you money."

Xander swatted Spike as he walked past him into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers.

"Doubt we'll be in the casino that much anyway, you know Anya."

"Hmmm," the low reply. "So where are you staying again?"

"The Luxor, you know the pyramid shaped one, she said something about Egypt, mummies, that whole thing," Xander sat on the couch, flipping on the television.

"So, your little demon says, 'Hey, let's go to Vegas for the week' and you aren't worried one little bit that she's getting you there for more nefarious reasons then gambling? Lots of chapels about, pet." Spike settled on the other end of the couch, taking a long drink. Just like the bitch, drag Xander off where his friends couldn't interfere, where he couldn't keep an eye out for the lad, get him drunk, get him married.

"Nope, trust me, she made that damn clear when she made the reservations. She just wanted to get away. It's our two year anniversary you know and she made a killing day trading, went in and bought a bunch of stuff during the downturn, then just held it until everything started to climb again." Xander grinned around the lip of the bottle. "Can get used to being a kept man."

"Sure, luv, anything you say," Spike's skepticism was plain. "Fly out tomorrow, back week Sunday, right?"

"Yup, appreciate you keeping watch over the place." Xander looked around proudly. The house was small, but it was his. He had worked long and hard to make it nice, to repair the roof, the walls, the floor, hell, pretty much gutted it and started over. And it was his. No help from anyone else. He didn't want anything to happen to it while he was gone and a week was an eternity on the Hellmouth.

"Well, beats the crypt any day even if your windows are drafty. Why me, not one of the rest of the gang?" Spike settled in on the couch, wiggling his back ever so slightly into the cushions.

"They're too busy, and, besides, no one wanted to stay, just drop by, get the mail, stuff like that." Xander knew that he was being a little obsessive, but he had never been gone more than a day and he didn't want to worry while on vacation. He knew Spike would take good care of the house, knowing full well that Buffy staking him would be the least of his problems if anything happened while Xander was gone.

They both looked up at the sound of keys in the front door. "Men, packages, car, carry," she managed to hiss out as she staggered in, laden with boxes and bags. It seemed her little shopping trip had gone well.

"Oh, yes, dear, anything for you, dear, I just do what you say, dear," Spike swept out the door with a mock bow, heading out now that Xander's little love was back.

"See ya, Spike, thanks in advance." Xander called to the retreating figure. Spike just tossed a wave over his shoulder and stalked away.

Spike paced through the small rooms of the house, tracing a circle from bedroom to living room to kitchen to bathroom to bedroom. He was going slowly insane, the scent of Xander surrounding him. Once again, his thoughts turned to their unlikely alliance. Since the fucking chip had been slammed into him, he and the whelp had slowly formed a strong friendship. Spike clearly understood the reasons behind it. They were the outcasts of their peers, the ones on the edges of the action. Spike was a pariah in the demon realm, while Xander was the comic relief of the Slayerettes. Neither were taken seriously, both were consulted only when all other avenues failed. At first, they were merely drinking partners, each trying to one up the other in tales of self-pity and woe. But gradually, so gradually neither had noticed, they had become friends. Now, they saw each other every day, frequently calling just to check in. Spike had managed to acquire a cell phone for which he mysteriously never reached a bill and Xander was the only one of the Scooby gang who had the number. Spike was a frequent quest in Xander and Anya's home. Indeed, the guest room wasn't so much a guest room as it was Spike's room, he even had several sets of clothing there. Blood was always in the refrigerator, ashtrays were on the endtables and Xander even allowed Spike to order Manchester United matches off the satellite. All quite cozy.

"Bloody hell, turning all domestic, doing him favors, running around doing errands for his chit, love's bitch indeed," Spike muttered, pacing faster and faster. Spike knew exactly why he was so willing to swallow his pride, so willing to quell the voices in his head mocking him for his shameful loss of face. He was a laughingstock now, he knew that, he heard the whispers when the other vampires didn't know he could hear them. Poor old Spike, the Slayer's pet, no, not that, worse than that, the pet of the Slayer's pet. He knew and didn't care. He loved Xander, had loved Xander since he couldn't say when, didn't want to try to decide. It was worth it just to be some small part of his life.

"Always pick the impossible, don't you, you stupid pillock. Cicely, Angelus, Dru, yes, quite the track record there, mate. Stuck up bitch, broody bastard, certifiably insane vampiress, nice collection, mate. Now a human, oh that's lovely. A human man, straight as can be, in love with a former demon. Walking Springer show." The muttering continued as Spike began the familiar litany in his head, trying to find some way to remind himself of what he used to be, how continents had once trembled at the mere mention of his name. Now, now he was house sitting for someone he would have considered a nice snack in the good old days. He growled deeply, shaking off the melancholy. No, one brooder was quite enough in a family, thank you, and his already had the master itself.

"Right, need to find something to do, never were good at thinking, action's more my game," Spike stopped in the center of the living room, casting a dark look around. "Let's see, could try to find something to blackmail the whelp, that would be good." Spike nodded, his enthusiasm for the project rising quickly. "Yes, good plan, that, can save those Polaroids for later." An evil grin curled at the corners of his mouth. Xander truly should have known better than to get so drunk he passed out, not when Spike was still sober and in possession of a camera. Spike was rather certain that Xander didn't want anyone but Anya knowing that she made him wear tiger striped thong underwear.

Spike efficiently set about checking the house for its secrets, already knowing where they kept their porn and sex toys. Actually, those weren't even hidden, just kept in a box under the bed and that only because Xander insisted upon it. Anya would have left the handcuffs and gag ball on the corner table if it were up to her. No, Spike was after more interesting items, like old pictures. Perhaps old pictures of Xander when he was on the swim team, now that would be sight to see.

The living room yielded nothing, nor did the kitchen. Well, nothing more than some money and a few rings of Anya's kept in a fake can in the pantry. Spike pocketed the bills, then moved to the bathroom. No, nothing there either. He carefully knocked on the walls, finding it hard to believe that Xander, with all his construction skills, hadn't made some secret compartment. Still, nothing.

He moved into what even he had taken to calling his room, a chill running through him once again at the thought. Good thing he had given up pride last year, otherwise the shame of being a tolerated guest in a human's home may have crushed him. Still, nothing, not even behind the loose board in the closet. He frowned. Either Xander was very clever or he had wisely cleared out any incriminating items prior to Spike's arrival.

Frowning at that thought, Spike entered Xander and Anya's room, flinching a little at the scent of their sex that still lingered there, even though they had been gone for three days and Spike had immediately opened the windows when he had arrived that Sunday. It was bad enough to smell it when they were there, it was infinitely worse to smell it when they were gone. How many nights had he leaned back on the bed in the next room, clearly hearing the sounds of their lovemaking, the scent of it overpowering him. How many times had he wrapped a cool hand around himself, stroking in time to Xander's thrusts, trying to picture himself under, over, around that beautiful body. It seemed a cruel taunt that he would still have to smell it now.

Spike checked the room. Still nothing. He started over again, focusing on the closet, tapping carefully at the walls. Finally, he was rewarded with a slight echo in the wall behind Anya's shoeboxes. He pulled the boxes away, then looked closely. He could just make out the seam, just barely feel the slight indentation. He carefully slid the panel to the side, then reached a hand in. He felt the corner of an envelope and grinned. Jackpot. Xander wasn't the only one getting lucky. He eased the envelope out the hole and then padded into the kitchen to examine his prize.

"FUCKING BITCH, RIP HER HEART OUT. MOTHERFUCKING CUNT," Spike couldn't stop the screams from ripping from his throat, not caring that the neighbors would surely hear. The pictures spread across the table. Anya and some man. Some man with dark hair and dark eyes, but without Xander's smile, Xander's warmth, Xander's face. Letters, matchbooks, dating back over a year. So this explained her buying trips, her private voicemail account, explained the secret smiles. The bitch had a lover, had had a lover, continued to have a lover. Spike reached down, his hands trembling in rage as he traced the words of the most recent letter.

"Dearest, miss you, must see you, meet me in Las Vegas. I'll bring her, you bring him, they will never suspect."

**At least he was right about her not wanting to get married** Spike just snarled as the thought crossed his mind. Like that mattered now. Xander had been so happy about this trip, so proud that he was in a loving, stable relationship. All a lie. Spike reached out, grabbing the phone from the wall, dialing the number from memory. He had stared at the paper with the number for the hotel for hours, playing imaginary conversations with Xander in his head. This was the longest they had gone without talking in over a year, hell, Spike usually called Xander to say he was leaving to come to the house, then Xander would call and ask Spike to pick up something on the way, then Spike would call back to make sure he had everything, then Xander would call to see how close Spike was to arriving at the house. Three days was an eternity. He dialed the number, listened to the rings, then suddenly hung up. No, no he would not do this.

Spike pulled out a cigarette, craving the nicotine to calm him down. No, he wouldn't just call, wouldn't ruin it for Xander. Better to let him have the lie for a few more days. When they returned, however, he would make sure that he and the demon bitch had a little talk. He would make sure that Anya left Xander, but he would also make sure that Xander never knew the real reason behind the trip. Just that, she could give Xander just that. Spike yanked open the freezer and pulled out the bottle of vodka. If this didn't call for getting drunk, he didn't know what did. This was going to devastate Xander and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Couldn't even kill the bitch for what she had done. Bypassing a glass as merely a wasted gesture, Spike took a huge gulp straight from the bottle.

Spike flattened himself to the wall just inside the front door, quickly calculating that, yes, he could pin whatever it was trying to break into the house to the far wall without being exposed to the sun. He had been asleep on the couch, still a little groggy from his binge two days before. He had finished the bottle of vodka, then the whiskey, then the gin, then the rest of the beer before collapsing in the middle of the kitchen floor. He had regained consciousness the next morning long enough to moan then stagger into his bed. He slept most of the rest of the day, finally being forced to move due to hunger. Even blood had tasted like sand in his mouth and he had collapsed again on the couch. However, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, followed by the low murmur of voices, then a slammed door, had snapped him awake. He listened as someone walked up to the door then began fiddling with the lock. He knew it couldn't be Xander and Anya, it was only Thursday, they weren't due back for another three days. He tensed as he saw the handle, then slammed the intruder into the wall, gameface on and ready to fight.

"Fuck, Spike, gods, what are you doing," Xander yelped out from his position on the wall.

Spike blinked in shock, his grip on Xander's shirt never lessening. "Xander, what are you doing here, you're early, where's," he stopped himself at that, feeling the snarl curling in his throat. He knew that saying the cunt's name right now would not be a good idea. He fought back the small surge of happiness he felt at seeing Xander again, concerned by how tired and drawn he looked.

Xander looked away for a second as Spike slowly lowered him to the ground. "We, well, we had a fight." He didn't really want to talk about it, wasn't sure if he could talk about it without choking up.

"Lose all her money, whelp? Spank some waitress in one of those little toga outfits?" Spike followed Xander as Xander made his tired way into his bedroom, checking quickly to make sure that the envelope was still hidden under the mattress in Spike's room and wasn't lying out on the kitchen counter.

"No." The brief reply was all Spike got as Xander dropped his back on the bed, then fell back, throwing an arm across his face. He couldn't stand seeing this room, seeing their room, seeing her picture on the bedstand. He threw an arm out and began to blindly flail away at the table, knocking everything off. He felt a strong hand suddenly grab his wrist, stopping him. Xander tried to tug away, not putting much effort into it, knowing that Spike would just win.

Spike stared down, deeply concerned. Xander looked terrible even to his eyes. He was pale and drawn and it looked like he had been crying. Spike realized with a start that he had never witnessed Xander cry and was suddenly desperate to maintain that streak. He slowly knelt next to the bed, carefully setting Xander's arm down.

"Pet, you all right, something happen?" He had no idea how to begin to ask, if asking was even the right thing to do.

A bitter snort came from the body next to Spike. "Oh, everything is just fine. Just great. Just dandy, peachy keen, neato, boffo, terrific, stupendous, sublime." Xander kept his eyes shut, the scene replaying over and over in his mind. "Having a great time, nice place, beautiful room, beautiful woman, being catered to hand and foot. Even managed to win over $2,000 at blackjack. See, I can learn if I put my mind to it. Everything was just great. Yesterday was our anniversary and we went out, great dinner, better sex, just perfect. Then, this morning, I decided to go swimming, Anya said she didn't want to go, would meet me later. Said fine, would see her in a few hours. Went down, swam a few laps, got bored, decided to go back to the room. Opened the door. Found Anya taking it up the ass from some guy. Freaked out, thought she was being raped at first," Xander let out a tired laugh at that. "Really did, never occurred to me that she was a more than willing participant until I pulled the prick off her and starting beating his face in. She grabbed me, yanked me off, then went back to check on him. That's when I finally got a clue, when it all started to make sense. I should have figured something was up when she told me she had that daily massage appointment. Anyway, to make a long story short, after much screaming and throwing things around, she finally told me that she didn't love me, that she loved him, that we were there only because he was there for a convention. That it had been going on for over thirteen months and she just didn't know how to tell me. Did the only thing I could to try to have some dignity, grabbed my bags, threw some clothes on and walked out the door. Left her there fussing over him. Tried to make the grand exit, whirled around and told her not to come back. She didn't even look over, just told me that she hadn't planned to and that she would arrange to have her stuff packed and shipped to her. Left, got on a plane, came home."

"Xander," Spike heard the crack in his voice. "Oh, bloody hell, sorry, mate. I'm so sorry."

"What do you know about it," Xander hissed out, feeling the waves of pain wash over him. "How would you understand?"

"You do remember Dru, Xander," Spike kept his voice low and quiet, his emotions tearing him in two. One half of him just wanted to wrap his arms around Xander and never let go. The other howled to hunt her down and torture her for days, no years, for what she had done. "I do know what it's like, been there myself."

Xander nodded at that, remembering some of the tales he had heard from Angel as to how Dru had taunted Spike, opening flaunting her lovers. "Guess you do, just, why, I don't understand, I loved her, I gave her everything." Xander started to pant, trying to will the tears away. **Not in front of Spike, please, no, humiliated enough, not that, not that too** An unwelcome tear traced down his cheek, and Xander turned on his side, trying desperately to hide, wishing he had thought to crawl under the covers so that he could hide his face. He felt a tentative hand trace his back, the touch feather light.

"Xander, I'm sorry, she didn't deserve you, shouldn't have done that," Spike started. He had no idea what to say or do. "Just, wish I could bring her heart back for you."

Xander couldn't help smiling a little at that. Typical Spike, violence as affection. "Yeah, I know, can you just leave me alone for a little, don't really want to talk."

"Certainly," Spike moved to the doorway, pausing for a moment, resisting the urge to either wrap himself around Xander or rip the room to shreds. **Of course he would come back during the day, can't even go find something to kill** "If you need anything," again his voice trailed off.

Xander nodded wearily. "Thanks, Spike. I'll let you know." With that Spike left the room, heading quickly for his own. He grabbed his lighter, squeezing it so tight that it burst. He bent his head, then slowly walked to his own room, blackness filling his heart. He was helpless, he couldn't make this better, couldn't hunt her down and exact revenge. He was pathetic and sad, couldn't protect what he had come to view as his. He settled down on the bed, listening to the sobbing in the next room, each sound breaking his heart a little more.

Spike kicked the door again, arms full balancing the two pizza and the two six packs of beer. "Open the door, whelp, food's getting cold."

"Hold on, there in a minute," Xander called back. Over the last eight months, he and Spike had grown even closer. It had taken Xander a good three months to begin smiling again after the Vegas disaster. He had smiled only once during the first week back and that was when Spike had built the huge bonfire of Anya's belongings in the backyard. Spike had stayed with Xander those first few weeks, terrified of what Xander might do if left alone. It was Spike who talked to Anya when she called. Spike who informed her exactly and in detail of what he thought of her character. The memory made Xander grin whenever he thought about it now. You had to be pretty low if a vampire thought your character left something to be desired. Xander finally threw Spike out the night he realized that Spike was staying only because he thought Xander might harm himself. It was sweet, in Spike's own demented way, but it made Xander feel powerless. He appreciated the gesture though. Spike had been very kind to him, spending many a night sitting on Xander's couch. They still patrolled and Xander had discovered the joy of reflected anger. He had some inkling now of why Spike got off on it so much. Nothing like ripping something's head off while pretending it was your ex-girlfriend's. Xander limped a little faster to the door when he heard the loud kicks begin again.

"Oi, hurry up, blood's starting to clot." Every Saturday night, the same thing. Pizza and beer and some stupid movie. Xander was doing better, was almost back to his old self and Spike was determined to spend as much time with Xander as he could before his pet found a new girlfriend. It was only a matter of time, even if Xander seemed oblivious to the women throwing themselves at him when they went to the bar last night. Spike sighed, knowing he was only making it harder on himself by spending so much time with Xander, but those dark, deep eyes got him every time. Whenever Xander looked at him just that way when he asked Spike to do something, the still there traces of fear and hesitation, like Spike was going to leave him too, it just pulled his heart out and, no matter what his firm resolutions of the night before, Spike would just nod and say, "Sounds good, mate, see you then," then, back at the crypt, he would damn himself as an idiot and a fool.

"'Bout bloody time, took you long enough, what happen, get lost on the way," Spike called out as he pushed past Xander to set the food and drink on the table. He stopped suddenly, sensing something amiss. He turned around and his jaw dropped in shock. Xander stood there, arm in a sling, bruises covering his face and arms, leaning against the wall. Spike took three quick steps over and reached a shaky hand up, tracing his fingers over Xander's cheek, careful not to touch hard enough to hurt. "Bloody hell, pet, what happened to you, you didn't go out without any of us, what happened, what hurt you, where is it, I'll kill it, Xander," Spike sighed out, heart twisting, "Hells, your arm what happened." He carefully led Xander over to the couch, fussing about, trying to make sure that Xander was comfortable.

"Nothing attacked me, well, not demon anyway. I was walking out to my car in the mall parking lot, stopped to pick up some new boots for work, when this idiot backed straight out from a parking space without looking and ran right into me. Knocked me down, knocked me out, don't know how he managed not to run over me. Somebody saw, called an ambulance, went to the hospital. Have a dislocated shoulder, various bumps and bruises and a mild concussion." Xander watched as Spike suddenly grew even paler. He hadn't thought that was possible.

"When, why didn't you call, would have come, did you get the prick's name, pay him a visit, I will," Spike growled out, trying to calm the panic ripping through him. Hit by a car, he had been hit by a car. He could have been killed, what if the wheel had gone over his head. Spike stopped that train of thought immediately. No, no couldn't think about that.

"I'm not going to tell you who or where precisely because you will pay them a visit. I'll beat the little shit myself, thank you very much. I didn't call because it happened about 3:00 this afternoon and I knew you would try to come to the hospital and I didn't want you going out. Sunny day today you know." Xander glanced over, trying out a quick grin. He hadn't called because he knew Spike would be upset and, as much as he wanted Spike there, he wasn't going to take that chance. Spike didn't need to know that Xander had sat on the exam room table, dialing the first six digits of Spike's number over and over, the pattern calming him.

"Could have used the sewers, tunnels run right under the hospital, entrance right next to the crypt, no problem, should have called." Spike reached out again, unable to stop himself. He had to touch, had to feel the warmth under his fingertips.

"I know, but I didn't want you to worry," Xander said, closing his eyes as Spike ran his hands gently over the marks on his arms, the coolness soothing. "Didn't get out of there until about an hour ago, knew you were coming over."

Spike nodded. "You'll be fine, though, right? Nothing permanent?" He couldn't help the waver in his voice, and he suddenly looked away, hoping Xander hadn't heard.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Would you mind staying tonight, though. Doctor said that I can sleep and all that, just have someone check on me every few hours." Xander hurt like hell and didn't want to be alone. Actually, if truth be told, he did want to be alone. Just alone with Spike. He hadn't called anyone from the hospital, not wanting to worry any of the others. He just wanted Spike. Spike made him feel safe and happy and warm **and, wow, are the pain pills kicking in now** and Xander let out a huge yawn. "Drugged me up too, thought you weren't supposed to do that with concussions, but whatever they gave me knocked me out."

"Do you want to go lie down, here, let me help you," Spike stood, ready to pull Xander up with him.

"No, wanna stay here, hurts to lie flat, feels good like this," Xander murmured, drifting off. "Glad you're here, wanted to call, did, wanted to see you," his voice trailed off as he fell asleep.

Spike quietly went into Xander's bedroom, pulling the comforter off the bed. He gently draped it over Xander's body, then settled down next to him on the couch, pizza and beer forgotten as he focused all his senses on listening to Xander sleep.

Spike sat on the roof of the crypt, resting his arms on his knees that he drawn to his chest. He blew a stream of smoke into the air, feeling the heat of the ember on his fingertips before tossing the butt aside. The roof was littered with discarded cigarettes, nearly a pack in all. Spike simply reached down, pulled another cigarette out and lit it, the routine no more calming than all the times before. He slowly laid back, stretching out flat as he gazed at the stars. It had been three weeks since Xander was injured and Spike still wasn't over the shock. If anything, it was worse now than when it had first occurred. Spike had spent the first week at Xander's house, trying his best to take care of a very annoyed human. Xander didn't appreciate being fussed over, but had grudgingly been forced to accept Spike's help. Xander's shoulder caused him a lot of pain and Spike had taken the opportunity to do whatever he could to help. Including dressing and undressing Xander. That had caused many a sleepless day, especially since Spike hadn't had the opportunity to do anything about the frustration it caused, not in such close quarters. He had worked too hard to keep his feelings hidden to slip now.

Xander was doing much better now and Spike had been forced to leave. Tonight, Xander was out with the rest of the gang and Spike had begged off, needing some time alone to think. Xander had promised to call when he got back, knowing that Spike was still worried and the phone was right there, within easy reach. Spike just stared into the clear night sky, trying to sort out his emotions. Ever since the accident, he had been in a state of suppressed panic. He had never allowed himself to truly consider just what the implications were of being in love with a human. Sure, some part of him had always acknowledged that yes, if by some miracle he could have Xander, Xander would ultimately die. He had witnessed the pain this caused before, he had watched and, in truth, mocked, as other vampires lost their humans. He never understood until now why they just didn't turn their pets immediately and spare everyone the drama. But now, now he understood all too well. What he loved about Xander was his humanity. It brought out the part of William still buried in Spike, the faint glimmer of what he had been like before he was turned that still lingered there. As much as Spike might try to deny it, there was still more of William in him than he cared to face. Xander just forced what Spike had tried to suppress to return to the fore of his consciousness. And if he turned Xander, if he still could turn anyone that is, then that humanity would be all but destroyed and all he would be left with would be a pale shell. That would be worse than losing Xander completely. So, here he was, in love with a human and scared nearly out of his mind. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to act, didn't know what to say.

Spike crushed the cigarette out suddenly and sat back up. He needed to talk to someone, needed help. He hated this, hated the weakness it revealed. But he couldn't face it alone. Alone. Spike dropped his head down, finally admitting what he had tried so long to deny. He was alone. Dru was long gone. He had no minions, no peers. The rest of the vampires hated him, along with the rest of the demon realm. He couldn't even go to Willy's for a drink anymore, not since he had nearly been killed when the entire bar joined against him. He was alone.

Spike slowly raised his head again, focusing on the belt of Orion, smiling slightly at the memories that brought forth. Not truly alone. He could always ask Angel. Angel understood what it was like to love a human. Deny it all they wanted, Buffy and Angel were still in love, would always be in love. Angel would understand. And he would walk in the sun before he breathed a word of this to his Sire. Angel wouldn't believe him, wouldn't want to even try to accept that Spike was telling the truth. He would just assume that it was some plot or other and then he would tell the Slayer and then all hell would break lose. No, that simply wasn't a choice. That meant there was only one other person he could ask. Only one other person who would understand absolutely and utterly. Only one person who could tell him what to do.

Spike stood and raised an arm to his mouth, knowing how truly desperate he must be if he was willing to do this. He bit down then dipped a finger into the blood that pooled out. Raising a hand to face, he traced the blood down the scar in his left eyebrow, focusing all his attention on picturing that face.

"Kat, please, what am I going to do? Kat, I need you." He felt the sudden burn, then dropped down to his knees, tears pouring down his face.

The small figure stood balanced perfectly on the highest point of the Sydney Opera House, facing straight into the fierce wind. The storm blew the jet black hair straight back from the pale face as lightening illuminated bright blue eyes. She stood still, letting the wind blow, feeling the electricity charge through the air. The gale winds howled around her, the rain and the force of the wind driving everyone else inside. The winds had been howling for a week, sounding like nothing less than some desperate cry of pain and grief. She drank in the noise, losing herself to the feel of the wind on her face, drenched to the skin by the torrential downpour which served to wash the tears from her face. Finally, she reached into the pack on her back, pulling out a small urn. She looked down, running her fingers over the carvings, tracing around and around the symbol of infinity carved into the lid. The winds picked up in intensity as she grasped the lid. She paused for a moment, then raised the urn to her lips.

"I love you. Always."

With that, she yanked the lid free then threw the ashes high into the air, the wind blowing the ash far and wide. Suddenly, the wind and rain stopped, the sudden silence deafening. She stood, head down, panting. She suddenly saw a drop of red drip down from her face, spiraling in the air as it fell to the ground. She raised a hand to her left eyebrow, feeling the blood drip down from the scar there.

"Kat, please, what am I going to do? Kat, I need you." The words sounded clear in her ear and she looked up, a brief smile crossing her face.

"Coming my sweet."

With that, she stepped forward, dropping lightly to the ground. She strode over to her car and reached across, checking to make sure her passport was in the glove compartment. Seeing that it was there, she pulled away and headed for the airport.

Willow looked up in surprise as the bell gently tinkled, signaling that someone had entered the Magic Box. "Sorry, we're closed," she called as she moved around the table to see who it could be, careful not stray too far out of sight of the others. Buffy moved to stand next to Willow, a stake automatically dropping into her hand.

"Didn't anyone lock the door," Buffy hissed.

"Yes, I know I did. And I did the closing spell," Willow replied. They stopped when they saw the small, slight woman standing in front of them. "Can we help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Spike," a clear voice started out.

Buffy immediately grabbed the front of the woman's jacket, holding the stake into her chest. "What do you want him for?" No one who entered a magically locked door looking for Spike could be of the good.

"That's not really any business of yours, Slayer," the woman said, smiling slightly. With that, she plucked the stake out of Buffy's hand and turned to Willow, ignoring the expression of shock on Buffy's face.

"Let's see, red hair, lovely skin, you must be one of the witches. Is Spike here, pretty sure he is actually, can you get him for me please?" Again, the same calm, even tone with just the trace of amusement.

Willow just nodded, a little afraid. "In, in the back, he's," Willow stopped, seeing Tara running into the back to get Giles. "He'll be right out."

"Thank you, and, Slayer, please put the sword down, not your style at all, have to get you something smaller, a nice dagger would do." With that, she turned to move to the back, just shooting Buffy another amused glance.

"So, what's the problem that your poor little Slayer can't handle," Spike called out. He stopped, seeing the woman for the first time.

"Kat, bloody hell, Kat, you're here," he raced across the room, picking her up and spinning madly in a circle. Laughter echoed in the air as the women locked her legs around Spike's waist. They smashed into a wall as Spike pressed a passionate kiss into her lips.

Xander watched, stunned and angry. Who the hell was this and why was Spike kissing her like that? Spike hadn't mentioned anyone named Cat for hells sake, what was she some kind of animal woman? His eyes narrowed as he tried to move forward, stopped only by Buffy's hands on his arms.

Kat leaned back, laughing as she ran her fingers through Spike's hair. "So, hear you got a chip in your head. About time someone put something in there."

"You bitch," came the instant reply.

"Prick. Put me down." Spike backed away and Kat slid down the wall, standing pressed closely into Spike. Too long, much, much too long since she had seen the vampire. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too." Spike stared down, he hadn't been sure she would come, hadn't known if she would grace him with her presence, not after their last parting. He knew he didn't deserve it, but still, it was so good to see her, to actually talk face to face instead of over the damn phone.

Kat reached up, tracing a finger along Spike's jaw. Still beautiful, so pale. A little thin, not getting enough to eat due to the chip. Probably due to how worried he had been as well. Her fingers moved higher, running along the scar. Her eyes darkened as she ran a finger down its length. Spike's hand moved her face, tracing the identical scar there.

"Father," Kat sighed out, the words drawn from her.

"Mother," the echoing sigh.

"Brother"

"Sister"

"Flesh of my flesh"

"Blood of my blood"

Everyone else in the room jumped back at the sudden surge of power that rippled through the room. The air had gone perfectly still while Spike and the woman stared into each other's eyes, their words dropping like stones into a pond.

"Right, enough of that," with a sudden shake of her head, Kat turned to face the silent stares. "Let me see if I can guess," Kat walked over to gang, protectively clustered together.

"Well, obviously the bottle blonde in the front is the Slayer, Spike, seriously, she does a much better job than you do, really. Slayer, don't fell bad, you're the first Slayer to actually manage to touch me with a stake since, Spike, when? That one with the nasally voice, sounded like Jennifer Tilly, well, I mean, Jennifer Tilly wasn't born then, so obviously not like she was imitating her or anything, just the whole Bullets Over Broadway thing, you know after Chazz drops her in the river, says, "Thank God I never have to hear that voice," something like that, remind me, rent that, great flick. Anyway, her."

"Think that was in the '20's, luv." Spike looked on, savoring the stunned expressions on their faces. Oh, this was going to be fun. Kat looked like she hadn't slept in a week and was clearly riding some caffeine and sugar high. What an introduction.

"Right, right, I remember, huge fight with her Watcher when she got her hair shingled. Okay, Slayer out of the way. The red head is easy that's Willow, you never said how lovely she was, men, they're all idiots, can definitely see why you decided to give up the lot of them, so if you're Willow then you," Kat turned to Tara who looked like she was desperately trying to sink into the floor, "you must be Tara. Don't look down, sweetness, you have such a beautiful mouth, so sweet. You two look so right, yes, so right. Quite a pretty picture."

Spike walked over to stand next to Kat as she turned to look at Xander, nervously biting his lower lip. **Please like him, please like him, please touch him, please for me, for me**

"And you must be Alexander." Xander's eyes opened, no one ever called him that. He wasn't even sure if most people knew that was actually his name anymore. He watched with trepidation as she opened looked him over from head to toe, a serious expression on her face. He felt like he was under a microscope and he tried desperately not to look away. Finally, unable to stop, he glanced at Spike. His mouth fell open at the expression on Spike's face. Spike looked terrified. In fact, he looked the way Xander had always thought he looked whenever his mother or father or Giles or Willow or anyone important to him for that matter looked at something he had done of which he desperately wanted them to be proud but of which he thought they would be ashamed. That same desperate longing for approval. He forced himself to look back at the woman, trying to draw himself up straight, wishing he wasn't still looking a little roughed up from the accident.

Kat just smiled up at him, then nodded once, firmly. "Alexander Lavelle Harris. It is an honor to finally meet you. I'm Katarina de Rien." With that, she held out her hand. Xander automatically shook it, feeling a sudden rush of warmth come across his skin. He looked back over at Spike and again was stunned. This time, Spike had the strangest mixture of relief and gratitude, mingling with some other look that Xander couldn't quite interpret.

"So, that's the gang, where's the Watcher," Kat's eyes sparkled at that. She tilted her head slightly then took a step forward, easily parting through the girls.

"Ah, Watcher, trying to sneak up on whatever has your Slayer under her spell," she called out.

Giles lowered the crossbow, his back still towards the woman. He had heard the commotion, then talking, and when he snuck a glance around the corner from his office in the back, he saw some creature with black hair talking to the gang who were watching her without making any sound. He grabbed the crossbow he always kept there and started to sneak out. It appeared however, that he had not been quick enough. He turned, drawing in a deep breath to steel himself for whatever this was.

"Mistress," he called out, immediately dropping to his knees and bowing down low. "Please, Mistress, forgive me, I meant not harm."

Kat rolled her eyes. "Watcher, get up." She waited a moment for Giles to comply. He simply shook his head no, still bowing down low. Sighing, she bent down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, get up, there'll be none of that here." A shudder went through Giles but still, he refused to stand. A low growl rumbled from her throat as she took a step back and ran her fingers through her hair. It had been a very, very long two days and she was not in the mood to deal with this. Fine.

"Watcher, I have given you a direct command. You will rise. You will look me in the eye. You will not call me Mistress ever again." Her voice changed. Gone was the mocking, almost sarcastic tone. Instead, this was clearly the voice of power. "Rise. Now. Look at me."

Giles stood, shaking, then forced himself to meet her eyes, battling all his teaching and training, terrified at what he would find.

"That's much better. Now, listen, I'm not here for any of the reasons you expect. I'm here because Spike called for me. The only time I ever want you to call me Mistress is if I'm standing over you in leather and with a whip and I've told you to call me Mistress, do you understand?" Kat smiled gently, the teasing tone back to her voice.

Giles just stared at her mutely, unable to speak. Katarina de Rien stood before him. And he was alive. Still alive. This had to be some kind of record. Usually, Watchers simply died from shock before she could make her judgment. His brain tried desperately to process what she said. Not here for him. Here for Spike. That couldn't be right. A puzzled frown formed as he tried to work this out. For Spike, but there was no way that Spike could know. . . He started back to himself, realizing that the Mistress was still gazing at him, a smile dancing on her lips. Obviously, he had missed some kind of question he was to answer.

"I'll take it that you understand, good," Kat turned back and walked quickly over to Spike, moving to wrap her arms around his waist and lean into his chest. "Goddess, I'm tired."

"Did you have a good trip? When did you get in?" Spike ran his hands protectively over her back, keeping an eye on the Scooby Gang. He could feel how exhausted Kat was and he knew this was when she was most dangerous, when her control was most apt to slip, even a slight loss could end in disaster. He closed his eyes again, grateful for what she had done. She had touched Xander, given him her hand no less. Made sure that he was safe.

Kat pulled away, pushing her hair off her face once again. "Did I have a good trip? Well, first of all I had to convince the idiots running the airline that, yes, first class on my boarding pass means first class on the plane. Morons overbooked again and tried to bump me down. Then, thanks to you," with that she poked Spike in the chest, "I was stuck on that plane for what, twenty-two, twenty-three hours. I truly hate you sometimes, I just want you to know that. You know how much I love to be in confined spaces. Bastard. Then, couldn't even use my fucking phone, oh no, not allowed, so I was reduced to using their phones to try to get Timothy to make sure he was going to pick me up once I got to L.A. and, of course, I've never bothered to memorize all his numbers, they're in the speed dial for hells sake, but I can't access the speed dial without using the phone. But I can't use the phone because they think it'll bring the plane down and I wasn't in the mood to try to convince them that, no, this plane simply would not be crashing. So all I have is the house number and, of course, I know full well he never checks his messages. And, thanks once again to you, you stupid pillock, do I have my laptop, oh no, I do not. So, don't even have that to play with. Had to buy some books at the airport and, while I love King and Grisham, would it kill them to have something else. Finally get to L.A. and I can finally use my phone, get a hold of Timothy's new boyfriend, whatever his name is, I just call them all darling, it's never worth the bother to learn their names they change so fast and find out that idiot boy Timothy actually managed to land an audition, can you believe, so I'm stuck at LAX, which is an outpost of hell, I am sure of that, and, for once, I can go through the short line in customs and when the imbecile there asks if I have anything to declare I reply, nothing but my genius and he looks at me as if I've grown two heads, and honestly there simply is no such things as education anymore. So, there I am with my one little carry on bag, no luggage and Timothy decides to show like three hours later. At least he brought the right car. Then I start to drive up, get to thinking about who knows what, miss the exit and have to turn around. Get to the damn hotel and they try to put me in a perfectly nice room I will admit but as I so carefully explained to them, I wanted the suite. I had a reservation for a suite. I will have a suite. Stopped short of actually yelling only because they realized that I meant it and was going to so finally got the suite. At that point, I decided I had better find you before I collapsed, came here, then Slayer over there gets stake happy. So, no, I did not have a good trip and all I really want right now is a nice, hot bath and a nice, rare steak and a nice, comfy bed. Xander, would you care to come with us? I would like it if you come with us."

Xander just stared in awe. Willow babble had nothing on this. "Um, I, well, guess," Xander swallowed hard. Apparently, Kat had used all the words available in the room. He shot a desperate glance over to Spike.

"Please, Xander, I would appreciate it if you would come with us," Spike asked softly, gently reaching out to prop Kat up. She was starting to list, her energy finally draining.

It was the use of his name that got Xander. Spike never said his name. "Sure, would like that." Besides, this way he could find out just who the hell Kat was and what connection she had on his vampire. Spike was HIS vampire and Xander couldn't help the jealous stings whenever he saw the little smile that crossed Spike's face every time he looked at her.

Kat smiled delightedly, "Fabulous. Spike, precious, you drive, please. Can't really remember what side of the road to use any more."

Spike caught the keys she tossed him, gathered up Xander with a quick nod of his head and led them to the door. He stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing someone was missing.

"Kat, where's Cassie? Did she stay at the hotel? The trip must have really tired her out."

"Um, well, no." Kat looked down, then took a deep breath. "Cassie's not here anymore, William."

"Mistress, oh Mistress, I'm so sorry," Spike reached out and crushed Kat to him, feeling the tears spill from her eyes, soaking through his shirt, burning his chest. "When? Why didn't you call?"

"Eight days ago, shit, maybe nine now, don't even know what day it is. And I didn't call because then it would be real, you know? It was for the best, she was so sick, but still," Kat pulled away slightly, shaking her head. She took a few calming breaths, concentrating on the feel of Spike's hand in her hair. "It was good. She painted you something, should be here next week with the rest of my stuff. Let's go, tired, hungry, bath, remember?" She took Spike by the hand and pulled him out the door, Xander trailing behind.

As soon as the door closed, everyone jumped. Buffy turned to face Giles.

"Well, I think I can speak for everyone here when I say, what the FUCK was that all about?"

Part Two

Giles dropped heavily into a chair, yanking his glasses from his face and tossing them across the table. His head fell back and he reached up to loosen his tie.

"Well, think this calls for a drink, Willow, er, could you possibly," he stuttered out, not caring that everyone would now know where he kept his scotch. His hands were shaking far, far too badly to reach for it himself. His thoughts raced as he pondered what had just occurred. He stared into the eyes of Death itself and she had merely given him a wink.

"Came because Spike called, but, but that's not possible, surely we would have known if Spike had ever met her," he muttered, tuning out the noises around him. He started when he felt Willow press the glass into his hand. Nodding gratefully, he took a huge swallow, the precious burn easing his panic.

"Giles, what was that, who is that, I mean, way wiggins." Buffy settled into the seat next to Giles. She was more frightened by Giles's response than she was by whatever that little thing that just barged in was. She was sure that who or whatever she was, Giles would know how to handle her.

"Yeah, Giles, who was that? Why were you bowing down to her, looked almost like you were worshipping her or something," Willow said, running a calming hand down his arm. Giles just took another drink, hands still shaking.

"Giles, was that really, I mean, I always thought she would be bigger, or have guards or something, not that she needs them, just, you know trappings," Tara's voice trailed off as everyone suddenly turned to look at her. She ducked her head down again, blushing furiously.

"You know who she is," Giles asked, watching Tara intently.

"Well, I, I think I do. I mean, I've just read about her, but, well that's her name and you bowed to her, so really, must be you wouldn't otherwise," Tara babbled, still not looking up. Willow reached out to take her hands, making calming noises as their fingers intertwined.

"Would someone please tell me who or what she is, enough with the mystery already, do I have to kill her, is she another sign of the apocalypse, just someone start sharing, please?" Buffy jumped up and started to pace, her frustration growing. She hated it when people kept things from her, hated feeling like she was just some stupid girl who was good only for her strength.

"Right," Giles let out a sigh then reached for his glasses, carefully polishing them then pushing them back up his nose. "That was Katarina de Rien." He paused and looked over at Buffy expectantly.

"Uh huh, knew that she introduced herself to Xander before the two of them drug Xander off, so who the hell is she?" Buffy's pacing increased, angry at being treated like a small child.

"She, she, well, she is an Ancient." Giles concentrated on breathing reminding himself how lucky he was to still be doing so. The last Watcher to speak to her and live had been old Isaac and that was in 1921, 1923? Somewhere along those lines. And even then she had ripped off his penis. A shudder ran through his body at that thought.

Willow just stared at him, eyes round with shock. "An Ancient. She's an Ancient. Oh my, Buffy, you tried to stake her, Giles, Buffy tried to stake her, oh, she's going to be angry, Buffy, you have to find her, have to apologize, I can't believe she let you do that, she must be planning something, and she knows Spike, why does she know Spike, why didn't you know she knew Spike," Willow paused to suck in a deep breath and Giles jumped into the gap.

"There is no record of their ever meeting. Of course, if she didn't want us to know then we wouldn't. She may simply have erased any of the records as well, you know." Giles looked down, pleased to see that the tremors in his hands had stopped. Now if he could only feel his legs again, all would be well.

"Guys, could you please speak non-Watcher for a moment." Buffy stood there, arms folded, tapping her feet, her patience gone. "Willow, why the hell would I apologize for trying to stake her, she walked in here asking for Spike, what should she expect. And why would there be a record of her meeting Spike, why is that so important?" She glared at them, furious for all the delays. "Just tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Sorry, Buffy, I would like to, truly I would, but this, this is, is, well, unprecedented. I don't know how to begin to explain." Giles reached out, searching for a pen. He needed to just a few notes down now before his traitorous mind attempted to erase the images.

"How about this, what do you mean she's an Ancient? She didn't look any older than me or Willow or Tara." Buffy plopped into a chair, a pout on her face.

"It means that she is older than time. The Ancients have existed as long as this world, maybe longer, no one knows for sure and they certainly wouldn't answer if you asked." Giles started only to be cut off.

"Older than time, so she's immortal, too? No, Buffy, she's not, just has a really long life span that equals immortal. Let's try again, so she's been around forever, why did you do the whole "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy" thing, just because she's old, that's not like you. I've seen you push right past old people in the line at the bank, so what's up with that?" Buffy snapped her gum, okay, really old girl, that she could deal with. "Is she allergic to the sun and all that?"

"Buffy, please, just, just listen quietly, this is quite serious. Katarina de Rien is an Ancient as I said. But she is more than that. She is of the most powerful order of Ancients, indeed, at one point, she was the leader of the order. But something happened, no one knows what, and she went off on her own. That was over three millennia past. Since then, she has simply done whatever it was that she wanted. The Ancients pride themselves on order and ritual. She is chaos." Giles stopped to take another sip of scotch, both to moisten his throat and because he needed it now that he was coming to the heart of the matter. "Still, even despite her estrangement from the order, she upholds certain traditions. She is the Executioner. If she arrives at your door, you are dead. It is as simple as that. The last Watcher she visited chose to stab himself through the eye with a pen rather than bear her wrath. You can see now why I would bow. I still can't believe that she let me live."

"The executioner, but, why, what does that have to do with the Council." Buffy shook her head, she was more confused than ever. "What does it have to do with me?"

"Everything, actually. The Ancients provide us with our power. It is their knowledge and teachings that form the basis of all we do. To cross one is to welcome death. Now, not only is Katarina the executioner, she also happens to hate the Council. Again, something happened just over a hundred years ago, and whatever small ties she had maintained to us vanished. Not only did she cut off all communications, she actively began pursuing those who angered her."

"So, she's of the bad. Fine, then how do we get rid of her?" She looked up to find Giles, Willow and Tara looking at her in shock. "What? I don't want Giles bowing and scraping to someone who hates him just because he's a Watcher even if he's supposed to worship her. That's not right, he never did anything to her."

"Buffy, you, you still don't get it do you?" Willow said, voice shaking. "You don't make her leave. There's nothing you could do to make her leave if she doesn't want to. If she wants to stay, she'll stay, if she wants to go, she'll go."

Buffy just tossed her hair, standing again. "Giles, they might have taught you to worship her or something, but, please, so she's old, so what. Please, you all are acting like she's all powerful and all knowing or something."

"That's because, basically, she is." Tara's quiet voice somehow still managed to fill the room. Buffy settled back into the chair, just staring at Tara. "It's not just that she's old, Buffy. It's that she's Ancient, do you understand the difference. She has been here since the beginning of time. There are some who think that the Ancients actually are time itself. She has seen everything, done everything, possibly does know everything. She holds the power of the universe in her hands. If she wanted, she could probably split the earth in two just be wishing it to be so."

"What," Buffy whispered, staring back and forth between them. "You mean she's basically a god."

"No," Giles shook his head. "No, not quite. But the analogy is apt. She has power like you can only imagine. Basically, if she wishes it so, it will be so." Giles sighed again, unsure of how to explain. "The elements are hers to command."

"So what you are saying is that she can control nature," Buffy started, only to be cut off yet again.

"No, Buffy, I'm saying that for all intents and purposes, she IS nature. That's why I called her Mistress. It is what she is, a Mistress of this realm."

Buffy just stared. "And she's here to see SPIKE, that can't be good." She jumped up and began to pace. "Wait, if these Ancients help the Council, then what is she doing with a vampire?"

Giles rubbed a hand across his face. "I don't know. As I said, she does as she wishes. And there was the break with the Council. But, still, a vampire. And she said he called." Giles looked up sharply. "What exactly happened before I came out? Did she say anything to Spike?" His eyes narrowed, trying to recall all he knew of both their pasts. There was nothing to indicate that they should even be aware of each other's existence.

"Well, she came in, Buffy held a stake to her, she just laughed then Spike came out and grabbed her like she was an old girlfriend or something. Then she came over and picked out who we were, introduced herself to Xander then you came out," Willow ticked the events off on her fingers.

"Did she or Spike say or do anything, well, odd, well, odder than," Giles sighed unsure of how to ask. The whole bloody situation was odd to begin with.

"You, you forgot that little ritual thing," Tara said. She perked up a little when Giles's head shot up at that. "You know that whole father, mother, brother, sister thing."

"Tara," Giles began, speaking very quietly and slowly, never taking his eyes off her face. "What exactly did they say and do?"

Tara's face scrunched up as she thought. "Well, Spike grabbed her and spun her around and then pinned her against the wall and kissed her. Then he put her down and she reached up and traced that scar on his eyebrow. She has one too, same spot and everything. She said father, he said mother, she said brother, he said sister, she said flesh of my flesh and then he said blood of my blood. Then there was this weird flare, felt like wind went through the room or something. Then she came over and talked to us." She smiled as Willow beamed at her proudly.

"Dear merciful heaven." Giles turned and grabbed the bottle of scotch from the table and splashed a huge amount into his glass. "No wonder we could never kill him." He picked up the glass and drained it in one huge swallow. "When he tells her how we've treated him," Giles eyes fell shut and he reached for the scotch again.

"Giles, what is wrong with you, why are you acting like this?" Buffy was starting to worry. "Please, was that important or something? What does it mean?"

Giles let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, no, not important at all, Buffy. It's just that the vampire that you told was beneath you, the one that we all have teased and tortured, the, the Fangless Wonder, I believe you called him, well, she has taken him as kin. We've managed to treat the family of the most powerful being in the world like shit."

They all just stared at him in shock as Giles reached for the scotch again.

Xander followed after Spike as he led Kat down the street. Xander watched as Spike carefully wrapped an arm around her waist, basically propping her upright. **Might as well just carry her** He couldn't stop the bitter thoughts as he saw how gently Spike was treating her. Almost like she were Dru.

"The Rover on the left." Kat's words were so quiet that only Spike could hear them. Her hands were shaking with the effort to maintain her control. She could still feel the viciousness and cruelty directed at Spike which swirled under the surface of the room and it was all she could do not to react. She knew that it was a combination of the stress of travel combined with the pain of losing Cassie that was making it so difficult. Knowing the reason behind the problem didn't help make it any easier, however. She wouldn't, couldn't just let go and let her anger wash them all away. No, that was not the answer. Let them live. She was sure the Watcher had figured out their mistake by this point and the torture of waiting for her revenge would simply make it all the sweeter. She had never had a problem with being patient. Not if the end were worth it.

Besides, destroying the Slayer and her friends would only serve to upset Spike's love. She turned her head slowly, looking at him once again. Spike was right, he had no idea how beautiful he was. Otherwise, he surely would not wear those clothes, surely wouldn't not hunch over like he was trying to hide that body. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of his skin on hers. She smiled slightly, recognizing the sensations. Purity and light, innocence and bravery. No wonder Spike had fallen. She would have herself.

"Kat, open your eyes, that's a luv. Time to get in." Spike opened the passenger's side door and settled her into the seat. Xander clambered into the back as Spike moved around to the front. They pulled away and headed down the street.

"Where are we headed?" Spike stole a glance over, amazed that she was here. A part of him had honestly believed that he would never see her again, that their reconciliation would be limited to phone calls and the occasional package or letter. Never actual face to face contact.

"The Royal." She stirred and turned to look at Xander.

"Thank you for coming, I'm sure you have many questions, please, just, be a little patient, and I'll tell you anything you would like to know." A smile flickered across her face. "Anything at all. Remember that for later." The smile grew.

"You wouldn't," Spike snarled over at her.

"You have met me, right, Spike? Of course, I would." The grin grew as she leaned back into her seat.

"Right, well, you aren't the only one who can play that game. Xander, if there's anything you want to know about her that she doesn't answer, like, say what happened when she tried to dye her hair back to blonde straight from jet black, you just ask me, understand."

"Yes, but speaking of hair, I know what color yours really is. And what happened the first time you let Dru bleach it. You don't want to play this game, I always win. I know your middle name." The grin threatened to split her face.

"No." Spike growled again at that. "You would never."

"Never's an awfully long time."

Xander just sat back and listened to the bickering, fascinated by the side of Spike that he was seeing. Spike was just there, just being, not trying to impress anyone or threaten or scare or make them pity him. No, just being, just comfortable. They sounded like old friends. Or lovers. He shook his head sharply, cursing himself. Why did this bother him so much. Of course Spike had lovers, he probably had more lovers than hairs on his head. And Xander had met Harmony and Dru and it hadn't bothered him in the slightest. Of course, Harmony was such an idiot that it was obvious that Spike was merely using her body instead of his hand. As far as Dru, well, Xander was usually so busy trying to keep her from killing him that he hadn't actually had time to think of anything else. However, since he had been spending so much time with Spike, he had come to feel nothing but a cold, hard clench in his stomach at the very mention of her name. He knew how much Anya hurt him. He couldn't even imagine how much worse it had been for Spike.

Spike pulled into the hotel, gliding to a stop under the canopy. Xander got out, a little taken aback. He had gone past here countless times, but he had never been inside. The hotel screamed class and money and he had neither. Spike, however, was helping Kat out then tossing the keys to the valet as if he was born to be here. Xander loped along behind them as they crossed the lobby and headed straight for the elevators.

"What room," Spike looked over, seeing the Kat was looking a little better now that they were away from his friends. He let out a large sigh, glad that Buffy hadn't tried to do anything stupid. He knew that Kat wouldn't have been able to stop her reaction and that could have only ended in disaster. He glanced over to see that Xander was trying to shrink himself into a corner of the elevator, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Spike felt the familiar rage at all who had caused Xander to feel insignificant wash across him. **If only I didn't have this bloody chip**

"1412. And I'm not taking it out."

"Wasn't asking, luv. You've made your position clear."

"Just remember that and don't make me gag you to shut you up."

Xander started, looking between the two of them. **What the hell** It was obvious that they were talking about the chip. He was sure, however, that Spike hadn't said a word about it. This was getting a little creepy.

The elevator glided to a smooth stop and Xander watched, amazed as Spike stepped aside to let Kat exit first. Just like the gentleman that he wasn't. They walked down the short hall, then Kat pulled the keycard from her jacket pocket and led them inside.

Xander stared, amazed. The suite was beautiful, decorated in a tasteful cream and burgundy design. There was a fireplace, already lit, with couches in front of it. A bar ran along the far wall and there were doors on either end of the room. Kat turned immediately for the room on the right.

Spike walked over to Xander as he watched Kat walk away, still swaying slightly. "Going to run her a bath, she's awfully tired. Had a long flight and all and it's always disorienting to lose a day like that. Especially if she was traveling alone." Spike swallowed at that thought. Kat hadn't traveled alone for, what, at least fifteen years. She had always had Cassie. "Can you call room service, order supper for you both, make sure to get her a steak, rare and bloody. Caesar salad for her as well, but light garlic." A small smile, "Don't want to flinch all night. Whatever you want. We'll be out in a few."

Xander nodded and Spike started to stalk away. He paused then turned so that Xander could only see his profile. "Thanks, mate." With that, he followed Kat into the other room.

Xander picked up the phone and placed the order, amazed at how cool and calm he was. He was trying to battle back the familiar feeling of being out of place. He walked to stand in front of the fire, staring into the flames. He could faintly hear the voices in the other room, hear splashes. He wondered if Spike was washing her back. He wondered why he was thinking more about what Spike's hands would look like on her back then what Kat would look like naked. He wondered if maybe he should just stop wondering and enjoy the warmth from the fire. He slowly sank to the floor, looking at his watch. 12:45 a.m. He was tired.

"Xander, are you asleep," he heard her quiet voice in his ear and slowly turned his head, blinking sleepily. She was crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder. The strange warmth spread through him again, radiating from her touch.

"Guess so, sorry, just comfortable, you know," he yawned as they stood. He saw Spike watching them closely, the same indescribable look on his face as when he had shaken her hand in the store.

"Well, food's here, came a little bit ago, but you looked so peaceful, didn't want to wake you." They moved to the table where Xander saw the plates set out, Kat's steak gone, a few vegetable remaining on the plate. A napkin had been draped over the salad bowl and Xander was amused to note that Spike made sure to stay on the other side of the table. His own dinner was simpler, just some pasta and bread. He looked over, catching Spike's eye.

"Sorry, no blood on the menu, checked, didn't think you would want steak tartare," Xander said as he started to shovel the food down.

Spike just raised a wineglass and Xander saw the rich color of blood. "Not a problem, pet, my Kat is nothing if not a Boy Scout, always prepared." He took another sip, feeling the richness of human blood coating his throat. So good. AB negative, his favorite. She had remembered. Of course she had remembered, she remembered everything after all.

Xander quickly finished his meal, a comfortable silence descending over the room. Xander caught himself staring back and forth between Spike and Kat, studying them both, slowly realizing how similar they looked. Same high, sharp cheekbones, same blazing blue eyes, same scar in the eyebrow, same air of amused detachment to all going on around them, same faint air of danger. He pushed the plate aside and stretched.

"So, um, thanks for the meal and all, but why do I have the feeling that's not why I'm here." There, bravado, that was always good.

Kat just laughed, a clear, happy sound. She looked much better, much calmer, the black hair brushed straight back from her face. "Spike, you are not a good influence on him."

Shaking her head, she picked up her wineglass and moved to one of the couches, the men following her. She patted the space next to her and Xander automatically sat down.

"No, I wanted to explain things to you myself. If you were with the others, then, well the Watcher would be telling you things which, while technically true, aren't entirely accurate. But why don't you ask me what you're curious about first, that might be easier." She put the wineglass on the small end table, absently reaching up to take Spike's hand. Spike had moved to stand behind the couch and was resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Well, I guess, who are you? I know, Katarina de Rien, but, well, um, what are you, I mean, I figured out that you're not human and not a vampire, and I don't think you are demon and you don't seem like a witch," Xander stopped, blushing.

"That's an excellent question. I'm an Ancient. That means that I'm older than time. I'm also immortal." The blue eyes stared calmly into his, the answers matter of fact.

"Like Spike," Xander started, ready to ask what would kill her.

"No, not like Spike. I cannot be killed. No matter what. There is no power that can destroy me." She reached over and took another sip of wine.

"Nothing, no wonder you weren't worried about Buffy." Xander let out a low whistle. "Wow, well, do you have, like, powers or witchcraft?"

"You could say that I have powers," Kat grinned a little. "Just a bit."

Spike snorted at that. "Yeah, pet. Like that hurricane that just almost destroyed Sydney. Had nothing to do with that, I'm sure."

"That doesn't count. I was upset."

Xander looked at her with a little bit of alarm. "Um, well that was my next question, you kept mentioning how long the flight was, where did you fly in from?" He thought back to the news coverage on the mysterious storms that had battered Australia last week. The wind and rain had just suddenly started, then lasted for a week. As suddenly as it started, it had stopped two days before. "Was that really you, you did that?"

"Flew in from Sydney. Ashamed to say that I did do that. As I mentioned, I was a little upset." She closed her eyes at that, trying to push back the pain.

"Oh, well, you said something about someone named, named Cassie. Is that why you were upset, did she," Xander stopped seeing the pain cross her face. Impulsively, he reached out, brushing a hand down her arm. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Kat swallowed then turned to face Xander, leaving his hand on her arm. "Yes, she died. She was my lover for sixteen years. She developed leukemia about a year ago. It was very painful and, in the end, it was best she died."

Spike's hands tightened on her shoulders. He could smell the pain coming from her, could feel her agony in the corner of his mind that she owned. So brave, just telling Xander like that.

"Well, please, don't be mad, but, couldn't you just, you know, cure her or something?" He heard the growl start from Spike and moved quickly away.

"Spike, stop it, that's a good question. Yes and no. Yes, I could. But Cassie didn't want me to, she, she wanted to stay with me for the course of her life. She didn't want me to be afraid to be without her. And that's what curing her would have meant, that I couldn't be without her. She would have been with me, but then again, she wouldn't. I would have changed a fundamental part of her just to be with me. Nothing would be the same if I did that." She ran a finger around the rim of her glass, following her fingers with her eyes. She had respected Cassie's wishes. But it had been close. That last day, as she listened to the labored breathing, heard the heart slowing, saw the pain, it had been very, very close. All she needed to do was stretch out a hand, just release a tiny, tiny stream all that ran through her and she would have Cassie forever. And Cassie would hate her for it. But it had been close, her hand had been opening over the center of Cassie's chest when that last breath was breathed out.

"Oh," Xander understood completely. "Like if anything happened to Willow and I was a vampire I could turn her but she wouldn't be the same."

Kat nodded, smiling slightly. Spike had been right about this one. Deeply empathetic. Could develop that, interesting possibilities there. "Pretty much, just no demon possession, nothing like that."

"Speaking of vampires, what's the deal with you and Spike? I mean, what was that thing you guys did, you know that whole blood of my blood thing and why do you have the same scar?" Good, he managed to get it out calmly. He waited, knowing what would come next.

"Spike is my family. The 'thing' as you called it is, well, it's a connection ritual. Reestablish the bond. The scar isn't a scar. It's a brand. It marks him as being part of my order."

Xander's mouth dropped open at that. "But I thought he was in Angel's family."

The flames shot out of the fireplace before he could react. "Shit, oh man," Xander jumped back as the couch caught on fire.

"Sorry, sorry," Kat called out. Suddenly, the fire stopped and with a small shake of head she looked around the room. "Spike, you okay back there?"

"Oh, just lovely, at least I thought to duck when I heard Peaches's name." He slowly picked himself off the floor, a scorch mark on the side of his face. "Xander, word of advice, don't ever just say my Sire's name like that, tends to upset her."

Xander merely nodded, shocked. The flames had come straight out and wrapped around Kat. However, she was completely untouched. **Guess she does have powers** a hysterical part of his mind noted.

"Bloody hell, what a mess, Spike, let me get that," she reached up and rubbed the soot off his cheek. "Xander, you hurt?"

"No, just a little freaked. And the couch is," he stopped. "Well, the couch was toast. Not now."

"Told you I had powers." Kat settled back down, picking back up her wine glass. The room was completely restored. Xander carefully settled back down next to her.

"Believed you before, didn't have to set things on fire to prove it. Um, what was it that Giles was going to tell the others that would be true but not accurate?"

"That since your precious gang had been so kind to my kin here, that vengeance would be had." Her voice went cold and Xander flinched back. She softened her tone and placed her hand on Xander's leg. "That is the truth, they will pay." A cruel smile danced her lips as she thought of what she would make them do. "The inaccurate part is that all of you will pay. Xander, you have nothing to fear from me, not now, not ever. You have been a true friend to William and that will not be forgotten."

Xander's eyes lit up a little. "William, huh? So, how long have you and Spike known each other?" Family, if they were family then she would know family like secrets. "When did you meet bleach boy, bet you could tell some stories," Xander grinned, his mood lifting.

"Met me the night after I was turned." Xander jumped, Spike had been so silent that Xander had almost forgotten he was there. He watched as they exchanged a long look. "Angelus knew she would like me, took me to see her."

Those identical blue eyes had darkened at the mention of Angelus and Xander felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "That's how you met?"

"Yes," Kat said, her eyes still locked with Spike's. They all sat there in silence for long moments until Xander suddenly yawned uncontrollably, breaking the spell.

"Tired, pet?" Spike moved to stand by him, hovering just slightly closer than necessary. It had been a long night and he was concerned. Xander wasn't quite back to full strength.

"Yeah, should get back, car's at the Magic Box though." Xander's eyes were closed and he didn't look inclined to move.

"Don't be ridiculous, there's a nice room right over there. You're staying. The house will be fine for one night." Kat's tone of voice left no room for argument.

"Fine by me," Xander yawned out. Spike reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet, following him into the room.

"You all right, luv, I know it's a lot to take in," Spike began. Xander just shook his head.

"No, makes sense somehow, just tired," He pulled off his shirt and pants and Spike was treated to a brief glimpse of Xander's firm body before Xander crawled under the covers. "Talk tomorrow, there's a lot more you aren't saying," he began before fading off to sleep. Spike moved over, pulling the covers up.

"Night, Xander," he said quietly, tracing a finger down the side of Xander's face. He slipped back out into the other room. Kat had turned off the lights and was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. Spike sat down behind her and pulled her back so she was resting against his chest.

"So, you love him." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes." Spike didn't bother lying. Would have defeated the point of calling her here and, besides, she would know anyway. He decided to change the subject, not ready to discuss this yet. "You do realize that my Sire is going to hear that you're back."

"Of course. Didn't sit there in the middle of the LAX terminal for three hours for nothing I hope. Someone was sure to see me." The words were spoken without a single trace of emotion.

Spike nodded. "Still hate him?"

"Of course." Now there was heat, a ripple of suppressed rage.

"Fire's nice." Spike rested his head on the top of her hair, breathing in the familiar scent.

"Isn't it." Kat moved slightly so that Spike's head was resting on her shoulder.

They sat there, lost in memories, both remembering the first time they had sat together in front of a fire, thinking back to the night they met.

The rain poured, drenching all under the pitch black skies. The wind howled through the streets, driving all but the bravest or stupidest inside and before a warm fire. The gas lamps cast only a paltry glow, unable to drive away the chill. The night was vicious and cruel, a knife's edge to the air, cutting into those who had the misfortune to be trapped outside.

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed down the street as four figures moved from pool to pool of light. The light reflected off pale skin and dark hair, drawing out red highlights in the dark blond hair of the man trailing at the end of the pack, his hand held by the woman in front of him. His eyes darted to and fro, stunned at the new sensations washing over him. Everything was so much more alive, so much more real, so much clearer now. He felt like a blindfold had been yanked off his eyes and he was finally able to see for the first time. He could hear the conversations going on behind the closed door, smell the food on the tables, almost taste the blood that was flowing under the skin of the few people they had encountered. He licked his lips, the craving growing strong. He needed it, desired it, it burned in his veins.

"Not yet, no, not yet, going to see my Mistress, lovely Mistress, she will like you, she will let me keep you," Dru sang out as she drew him next to her. They stopped in the street, Dru tilting her face up to look into William's eyes. She smiled, seeing the yellow glow roaming over her face. "Yes, my childe, you will be my childe. Daddy has me, I will have you."

"Anything you wish," William replied, leaning down to kiss his new lover. He suddenly bit down on her lower lip and groaned as he began to lap away the blood. Suddenly, firm hands yanked him away.

"Not here, people will see." The rough voice growled in his ear and William instinctively flinched back, his head dropping down in submission. Angelus kept his hands firmly on William's thin shoulders, then dropped his voice into a husky murmur. "There will time enough for that later, time is something you never again need fear."

With that he stepped back, then turned and resumed his place next to Darla. He picked up the pace and they quickly approached a tall, imposing house, set slightly back from the road, a gate barring their way. Angelus simply reached out and pushed the gate open, drawing them all in behind him. They approached the dark door, arranged in a line behind the vampire. The only light in the house came from the flickering of candlelight in the front window. Angelus lifted his hand, then raised the heavy knocker. Bang. Bang. Bang. The noise resounded in the stillness of the night. He paused a few seconds, then lifted the knocker again. Bang. Bang. Bang. He settled back, waiting for the answer.

The door was suddenly yanked open. "Ah, Angelus, and how are you this evening?" The clear voice cut through the night. William could feel the warmth pouring out the door, could smell something sweet seeping from the room revealed behind the small figure.

"Have a present for you. Something Dru found." He simply stood in the doorway, making no attempt to enter. "May we come in?" He turned slightly, casting a hand back to reveal Darla, Dru and William.

"Certainly," she replied a puzzled expression on her face. It cleared when she saw William. "Oh, I see. Please, do come in. My home is your home." With that, she moved out of the way, allowing them to enter. Angelus bent down, nearly in a full bow as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Mistress, lovely as always, that color suits you," he murmured in her ear, turning them slightly so he could watch the expression on Darla's face. Darla simply stared at him icily, not rising to the bait.

"Don't even bother, Angelus, you know that Irish blarney of yours doesn't work on me." Katarina moved over to Darla, running a hand down her arm. "You look beautiful as always, my dear."

Darla nodded, then pressed her own kiss to Katarina's lips. She smiled slightly as Katarina ran her tongue lightly on her bottom lip, a matching smile on her face. They heard the low growling start behind them and broke apart, Katarina turning to raise an eyebrow to the vampire.

"Never start games you can't win, haven't you learned that by now?" She turned to Dru, her expression softening as she looked into the dark, mad eyes. "And you, my sweet, you look positively radiant."

Dru smiled down, her skin tingeing the palest pink at the compliment. "Oh, Mistress, it is so right now. I have found him, found my childe, he is so pure, so right. William, come here, meet the Mistress, she will like you, she must like you," Dru suddenly spun back around, her eyes wide and frightened. "You will like him, Mistress, you will, I know it." She pulled William forward, cooing softly. "So pretty, mine, all mine."

William gave himself over to the tug of Dru's hands. Those hands that had held him as he suddenly woke that night before, terrified at the state in which he found himself. The hands that had brushed through his hair, calming him during those first panicked moments. The hands that had pulled away his clothes, stripping him bare. The hands that had stroked him, making him harder and harder. The hands that had cradled his face in her hands as she slowly slid down his body, finally enveloping him in deep inside her womb. The hands that had wiped the tears away afterwards. The hands that had held his mouth to the neck of the flowergirl she had given to him, teaching him what to do.

"Mistress, this is William." For once, Dru's voice was even and her gaze steady.

Katarina simply looked William over from head to toe, taking in his clothing, the corner of his glasses still peeking out from a pocket. The dark blond hair, the high cheekbones, the blazing yellow eyes.

William started when Dru suddenly squeezed his hand. "Concentrate, please, show her your other face, the one I first saw."

He nodded, still habitually drawing in a breath as he focused on letting his human face come to the fore. It was difficult, but after a few moments, he felt the fangs retreat, felt his forehead smooth out. He ran his tongue on the inside of his teeth, missing the sharp edges of the fangs. He had a moment of panic, what if he couldn't change back, but it passed as Dru suddenly dropped his hand and began clapping merrily.

"Oh, very good, I'm so proud of my childe." She kissed William quickly on the cheek then turned back to Katarina. "You see now why I had to take him. He was so sad, so lonely, I couldn't leave him be."

"Yes, Dru, I see that. He is lovely." Katarina slowly turned back to Angelus and Darla. "May I speak with you in the other room for a moment?" There was the faintest trace of anger in her words. They nodded and Katarina returned her attention to Dru. "Precious, I must talk to Angelus and Darla, you stay here with William, we will be back shortly." She watched carefully until Dru began to nod. She turned on her heel and stalked into the next room, the vampires trailing closely behind.

William stood silently, straining to hear the words floating out to him. It was so strange to be able to hear like this, so strange and wonderful. Phrases slowly drifted into his consciousness.

"When did she do this?" "No one was with her," "You know that she cannot" "If you are certain," disjointed portions floated out, but it was always her voice, the voice of the blue eyed woman. He could smell the power on her, it intoxicated and scared him at the same time.

Katarina whirled around, the fire snapping behind her. "A childe, she took herself a childe and never of you noticed. When did she do this? Just what were the two of you doing? No one was with her? You know that she cannot be left alone for long." She began pacing back and forth, the flames following her motions. The vampires reflexively took a step back as she paced towards them, fury rippling in her eyes. "You knew that you would have to take constant care when you took her as yours, Angelus. Did you forget about that, off playing with Darla?" Darla let a smirk slip across her face. It was quickly gone as Katarina slapped her, hard, snapping her head back. "And you, did you put this idea in her head, where did she come up with this?" Katarina stepped back, a hand creeping up to push a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Mistress, no, I would never," Darla gasped out, pressing into a corner. "She said nothing, not even in all her ramblings, we didn't know. She slipped away from us last night, she was only gone a few moments, I swear. It was done before we could stop her. She wouldn't let him go, wouldn't let him out of her grasp."

Katarina just stared at her, then turned back to Angelus. "This is your problem. How do you propose to solve it?"

"I will take him as mine." Angelus stared back, willing himself to match her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed at that. "Really. You would take on another childe?" She turned her back to him and paced slowly back and forth, reaching out with her senses. She slowed, probing at the emotions running in the next room, feeling the passion and rage burning there. A slow smile crossed her face. She knew now why Dru had acted as she had. There was a method to this madness. The fire that raged in Dru's new toy was brighter than almost any she had ever encountered, mind and heart warring for control. Light and darkness in equal parts. Limitless potential and an exquisite capacity for pain. This, this would be interesting. She turned back around, settling her face into a calm mask. "If you are certain, then why not," the words accompanied by a shrug.

"It does not seem that it will be that difficult. I have seen him around town. He is nothing, just a poet. And a bad one at that. I do not know what Dru was thinking, taking him. But I will take him as mine. The responsibility will fall on me." Angelus smiled slightly. "I do not expect that I will have to worry about him long. Probably won't last a week."

Katarina suddenly laughed. "Oh, Angelus, you just don't understand, do you? You think that you will be able to simply break him to your will. Fine. He is yours. Do him right." She turned and opened the door, stepping back to allow Darla and Angelus pass in front of her. "Dru, come here." Dru obediently came over, licking the blood off her lips, William standing with eyes slightly glazed behind her.

Reaching out, Katarina took Dru's hands. "Dru, listen to me carefully. Daddy is going to take William as his childe as well, it is for the best. This way you can just enjoy him, not worry about anything, just let him be with you." She smoothed a hand down Dru's hair, trying to ensure that Dru stayed focused on her words alone. "He won't take your childe away, just help. Do you understand?"

Dru nodded, her eyes unfathomable pools of blackness. "Yes, Mistress. Do you like him?"

Katarina pulled her into a quick embrace. "Yes, very much. I need to speak to him now, then he will be yours again." She stepped back, allowing Dru to turn and pull William to her. Dru led William into the library then kissed him on the cheek, smiling and exiting.

William looked around the room, unconsciously stepping over to the shelves and running his hand reverently over the spines. The cases ran from the floor to the ceiling high above. Every inch was crammed full of books and there were yet more piled in every corner. He leaned closer, the heady scent of the words filling him. He suddenly pulled back, instinctively growling. No, this was part of his past. It had nothing to do with who he was now. He growled louder as an unruly hand still gently caressed the leather on the spine of the volume before him.

"Difficult, isn't it?" The quiet words sounded in his ear and he turned, startled. He hadn't heard her move. "Trying to resolve who you were with who are you. Where one ends and the other begins."

William just stared down, uncertain as to what he was to do, what to say. Familiar blue eyes stared back at him, waiting patiently for an answer. "Yes," he finally sighed, giving in to the confusion raging through him. "I feel so different now, so free, but I can still feel who I was, and I don't understand," he stopped when she placed a hand on his arm. His eyes shot open as the power whipped through him. He couldn't turn away from those eyes, no matter how desperately he tried, no matter how much he needed to. He felt like he was being laid bare before her, no secrets left inside. He could hear her heartbeat, was still a little shocked at the silence in the space where his echoing beat should have returned. Finally, she pulled away, only to reach down and take him by the hand. She led them to the low bench in front of the fire, turning to face him.

"Listen to me and listen carefully, I will only tell you this once. Angelus has agreed to take on the duty of raising you as his childe. As you may have noticed, Drusilla, while perfect in her way, is not stable enough for such responsibility. I know you don't have any idea about what all this entails, but, believe me, she is not able to raise you right. Angelus can. So, from now on, he will be your Sire. You are to heed his words. That does not mean you must simply do as he says," she began to smile at the thought. "Not that you would even if I said so. You have such depths in you that you have never even realized, such power and glory waiting to be claimed. Angelus will teach you well."

She stood and began to pace again, her hands twisting over one another. "You have such passion residing in you, I fear it will burn you away." She stopped, suddenly reaching down and grasping his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, there for all to see. You must not do that, you cannot do that any longer. Find some way to hide, some other person to be, at least until you grow stronger. And you will grow stronger. I can see that clearly." She released her grip, taking a step back. "A word of advice. Watch your heart. Dru is already residing there. Do not give it to Angelus as well. He will rip it out and hand it back to you, again and again and again. Beware."

William nodded slowly, drinking in the words. "Why, why are you telling me this?" He was startled by the sound of her laughter spilling down.

"Because you interest me. And there is not much that interests me these days. I will be watching to see what becomes of you, see what you do. Do not be afraid to become what you are. You were born to this, it is your destiny. Do not hide. You can be so pure. It is all there, all there waiting for you." She settled down on the bench next to him.

He turned, needing to face her. He could feel her heartbeat, smell her blood. Unconsciously he bent down, fangs descending, an arm suddenly snaking around her waist. With speed he had never suspected he possessed, he pressed his teeth to her neck. He pressed down, only to find that he could not break the skin. She just laughed and pushed him away.

"As I said, you interest me. Be glad that is so, if I had not stopped you, you would now be dead." Katarina carefully pushed his head away, trailing a finger along the ridges on his brow. "Lovely, just lovely. Dru always did have taste."

William bent his head, ashamed and confused. "Did I do something wrong, I've only, only," he stopped as the old, familiar feeling of embarrassment washed over him. "Not sure why I did that."

"Don't apologize. Don't ever apologize for who you are. If you remember nothing else, remember this. It is your nature, it is who and what you are. I stopped you only because this is one of the reasons you need to heed your Sire. They should have explained. I am not human, I am something, well, something else. You cannot taste my blood. My blood is death to you. That's the only reason I stopped you. Actually, that was rather impressive, I take it you haven't yet taken your own victim?" She waited for the hesitant shake of his head. "Time to change that."

Katarina moved over to the door, yanking it open, the veil of protection she had erected disappearing into mist. She had wanted their conversation to be private. "Angelus, it is time to start your duties. Your childe needs to feed. Take him. Teach him."

The vampire moved quickly to collect William, leading him from the room. They moved to the door, Dru stopping to drop a quick kiss on Katarina's cheek.

"Good night, precious, you have chosen well." Katarina stood in the doorway, watching them stalk into the night, admiring the picture they made. She watched as William turned, catching her gaze, walking slightly sideways, never looking away until they turned the corner. "Oh, Angelus, you have no idea what you've done." She closed the door, fastening it tightly shut.

His face slammed into the wall and he heard the bones shatter in his cheek. "What the blazes were you thinking, going after those people there, in public, in front of everyone?" Another loud snarl and he was tossed to the other side of the room, striking it hard with his back. He looked back up, unwilling to drop his gaze.

"I wanted them, decided to have them. I bloody had them before anyone saw, what is your problem?" Spike was amazed at how strong his voice was, how steady and firm. Inside, he was shaking.

Angelus just picked him up by the throat, holding him in the air. "Seriously, William, do you even think at all? Have you not paid attention to a thing I've said?"

"Stop calling me that," Spike managed to grind out, his vision beginning to darken from the pain.

"What, William," Angelus sneered out, drawing out the syllables. "What do you want me to call you, Spike, stupid name, why would I ever call you that?" He dropped Spike suddenly to the ground, drinking in the moans coming from the body beneath him.

"Because I said so." Spike suddenly kicked out a leg, catching Angelus square on the knee, dropping him to the ground. He used the momentary distraction to pounce on his Sire, bashing his head on the ground. "Don't want to use that nancy boy name any more, need something manly and cruel. Besides," he reached out and grabbed the railroad spike. "Seems appropriate after tonight." It had taken three months, but he had finally tracked down the bastard who had ridiculed him in front of Cecily a lifetime before. He had gotten his wish when Spike slammed the spike through his skull.

Angelus reached up and shoved Spike away. Spike just rolled with the blow and landed in a low crouch on the other side of the large room. He slowly stood, never taking his eyes off Angelus as they began to circle one another, each matching the other's feints. Suddenly, so quickly he could not see it, Angelus spun a kick at his face. Spike just managed to flinch his head back in time to miss the blow. He ducked into the small space left open by the attack and grabbed his Sire's arm, throwing him over his shoulder. Angelus simply held Spike's arm as he fell, dragging the slim figure down on top of him.

"I told you to leave them alone, why must you always defy me, time to teach you a lesson," Angelus panted out, pinning Spike's arms to his sides. He stood, yanking the struggling Spike with him, dragging the other vampire over to one of the pillars running down the center of the room. He slammed Spike's head into the pillar, knocking him unconscious. Angelus walked over the still body, grabbing the rope coiled in one corner. He roughly tied Spike to the pillar, arms tied behind him, legs strapped tightly together. He looked the situation over, satisfied, then slapped the still unconscious vampire.

"Time to take your medicine." Spike opened his eyes slowly, taking stock of the situation. He was tied to a pillar with a very angry Sire before him. He licked his lips, pupils darkening in anticipation of what was to come.

Angelus drew an arm back and slapped him. Then again. And again. And again. Over and over until Spike's head was swimming from being knocked first one way then another. "Act like an infant, I'll treat you like an infant. I know you understand simple commands. What was so hard about 'No William, you not yet, wait until they go into the alley' Something too hard about that for you, you couldn't wait another half minute. Lack even that amount of control?" The words hammered into him as Angelus moved to stand next to him, reaching around to run a hand down his face. "Can't wait, can you, haven't learned a thing in these last few months. It's not all just blood and violence, no, there can be so much more." With that Angelus gently ran a hand down his side, pressing closely into him. "Stealth can be so much better." Spike let out a hoarse scream of pain as Angelus suddenly slid the knife he had concealed in the palm of his hand into Spike's side. "You see, never saw that coming."

Angelus reached back, cutting the rope holding Spike's arms free, but leaving his feet bound. Spike collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out down his side. He tried to pull away but was stopped by the ropes. Angelus stalked over and kicked him in the ribs, purposefully striking the precise location of the wound, tearing it open again. "Never learn, never stop to think, what am I going to do with you." A cruel smile crossed his face. "Yes, what I am going to do indeed."

Spike just panted as he heard the sound of his feet being freed. He concentrated, trying to gather his strength. He felt his shirt being ripped away, followed quickly by his pants. He was soon naked, exposed and blood drenched on the floor. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.

His head snapped back as when he felt the cool tongue begin cleaning his wound. "Whatever I am to do with you, childe, you drive me so mad," the words caressed across his skin, drawing an involuntary shudder. A possessive hand spread across the small of his back, the broad expanse nearly spanning the breadth of his waist. "So mad," a sigh across his skin as the tongue lapped up the blood, tracing the lines of his ribs. Spike closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but the feel, the gentleness of the touch as Angelus began to run his fingers up and down Spike's side. He heard the sound of Angelus's shirt being pulled over his head, the loud thud, thud of the heavy boots hitting the floor, the scrape of leather as the belt was pulled out.

Angelus lifted his arm back and brought the belt down hard across Spike's ass. The skin always turned that lovely shade of red, so bright against the pale flesh. He leaned back again, putting more force into this blow. "Yes, need to beat some sense into you, teach you a lesson." His eyes blazed bright as he set to work, scoring the flesh with mark after mark.

Spike clenched his jaw, trying desperately not to cry out, not to give Angelus that satisfaction. His arms began to shake but still he did not move. He fell into his mind, his thoughts spinning back to Dru, to the feel of her hair curled under his nose, the scent of it filling his senses. Still he could feel the pain rip through him. He knew that Angelus had not yet begun, that the end was not near. He concentrated harder, hearing the sound of Dru's voice saying she loved him, that he was hers. The pain began to overwhelm him and he whimpered, just a little, just enough to keep the screams from letting free. Further down, further back, reaching for some place of safety. Finally, he slipped fully away, into his most secret place. The sound of flames rippling, a gentle touch on his face, clear blue eyes, so like his own. He slowly lifted his head back up, strength flowing back into him as he could faintly hear her laughter.

Angelus stepped back, feasting on the vision below. Spike laid out bare, red from the wounds he had given him. He reached over and picked up the small bowl of water from the table behind him. Kneeling down, he gently began bathing the wounds, a calming purr rumbling out. "There now, not that bad, if you would only listen." He leaned down and began to kiss his way along each of the stripes, bathing them with long swipes of his tongue. "Just do as I say, it would all be just fine." He kissed his way up Spike's spine, lavishing profligate care on each ridge, his hands firmly on Spike's waist.

A shudder ran unwillingly through Spike's body as he arched into the cool mouth. He craved this nearly as much as blood, the care and attention that was poured into him. Angelus was so distracted, so busy trying to deal with Darla and Dru that he had little time to give to Spike. But if Spike could just anger him, just bring his blood to a boil, then he received all the attention he could stand. It always ended the same way, first the punishment then the pleasure, the pain and ecstasy merging into one haze of pleasure.

"Just listen to me, wouldn't be necessary," cool fingers began to press into him and he spread his legs wider, allowing easier access. A hand reached down to grasp him, moving in time to the fingers inside him. Sharp fangs sliced the skin at the base of his neck and Spike was unable to suppress the moan that it wrenched from him. Angelus leaned down and began to suck at the wound, slowly drawing the blood into his mouth. He leaned down, nudging Spike's head with his own until Spike turned, just enough so that Angelus could reach his lips. They kissed frantically, the taste of the blood inflaming them both. Wrenching away, Angelus pulled back, positioning himself between Spike's legs. Without warning, he slammed fully into Spike, relishing the scream his action produced. Finally, finally his childe had broken, his stubborn pride giving way. He pumped hard, giving neither of them a respite, driving them to completion. He leaned on Spike's back, draping him weight completely on the pale body. He nuzzled into Spike until Spike turned, baring his neck, submitting completely. Angelus sank his fangs in, pulling hard. Their climaxes hit them both as Angelus began to drink, rocking them back and forth. Finally, they collapsed to the ground as Spike's arms finally gave way.

"Learned your lesson, childe? I always do know best," Angelus grunted as he slowly pulled out. Spike didn't reply, sprawled exhausted on the floor. Angelus quickly pulled his clothes back on, them stopped, tossing Spike's shredded clothing onto him.

"Get dressed. Dru is waiting for you." He stalked out of the room, leaving Spike bleeding on the floor. Spike just lay there for long moments, the sound of flames roaring in his mind.

Part Four

Xander opened his eyes slowly, a little dazed. There was something wrong with the light in his bedroom. Even after rearranging the room after Anya left, the light still came from the west. Now, now it was muted and dim and the faint glow seemed to be coming from the east. He blinked a few times, trying to sort out the strange noises. Not his bed, then where? He sat up suddenly, looking around in panic for a moment before remembering where he was. That's right, still at the hotel. He vaguely remembered stumbling to bed, exhausted after the night's events, still a little weak and sore from the accident. He looked around slowly, until his eyes lit on the small clock on the dresser next to the bed. 10:07.

"Shit," Xander yelped as he leapt from the bed. "Oh shit, oh shit," muttered over and over as he staggered around the room, trying to find his clothes. He was late for work, no, really, really late for work and that wasn't going to go over well. He hopped on one foot, trying to pull his pants on while simultaneously tying his boot when he suddenly sat down hard on the edge of the bed, laughter overtaking him. He would be late for work, very late for work, if, in fact, he had work today. However, being as it was Sunday, he actually was about to be very, very early. He laughed harder, picturing the look on Spike's face if he had seen this little display. It was bad enough when Spike had taken to moving all his clocks and watches ahead one minute a day until he had finally caught on the morning he was an hour early. This would amuse the vampire to no end.

Xander slowly stopped laughing as he thought about Spike, thought about what had happened the night before. So, Spike was family to an ancient immortal who obviously hated Angel and who had some kind of voodoo powers and who was not happy about how the gang had treated Spike. A part of him was worried at what she was going to do while another part, the larger part, was actually glad that someone was finally going to make them pay. He was the only one who had accepted Spike. Xander still didn't get why the others didn't realize that Spike had long since stopped helping them because he was forced to. It had been over a year and a half since they had been forced to beg, bribe, wheedle or threaten Spike to come on patrol with them and Spike had quietly saved all their lives more times than he could count. Just the week before Spike had reached out and yanked a demon away just as it was bringing a sword down towards Buffy's head. And what thanks did he get, just another threat to stake him when the demon's blood splattered across Buffy's new shoes.

Xander yawned, then made his way to the bathroom, longing for a hot shower to ease the ache in his shoulder. His eyes opened a little at the opulence of it, but he found, to his surprise, that he was quickly becoming used to such luxury. He looked around, noticing the thick, white towels and the bottles of expensive shampoos and soaps. No paper wrapped bars of soap in this joint. He turned on the water in the large walk in shower and adjusted the stream until it was nice and hot, steam filling the room. He stripped down and walked under the spray, the heat loosening his muscles. He quickly washed his hair and his body, then moved to stand under the spray, enjoying the feel of the water hitting his flesh, allowing him to lose himself again in his thoughts of Spike. Xander felt his stomach twist a little the way it always did when he thought about all the times he could have defended the vampire but had chosen not to, not wanting to further isolate himself from his friends. **Some friends, Spike's been more loyal to you than they ever were** Xander snorted at the thought. It was true but that didn't make it any easier to accept. Spike was his best friend, his closest friend, hell, they were practically a couple they were together so much.

Xander groaned as the thought crossed him mind. A couple. The subject that he avoided thinking about at all costs, the thought that he tried to push out of his mind only to have it bubble up, unwanted, at the most inopportune times. He wanted them to be a couple. The first time he woke, panting and sticky, the feel of Spike's mouth on him still vivid from his dream, he had been stunned, had been forced to face his feelings. Sure, if forced to be honest with himself, he had always noticed men, always been attracted to men. Just, he had been attracted to women more and there had never really been a guy that he wanted to take to bed, wanted to see just what it was like. Until he met Brian about a month after Anya had left. Spike had been off somewhere, on one on his periodic drunken binges, and Xander had met Brian in a bar. They got drunk, went back to Brian's and one thing led to another until Xander found himself on his knees, sucking Brian off, found himself flat on his back, knees hooked over Brian's shoulders, stretched and filled and entered, the feel of it burning through him, found himself kneeling over Brian, pushing his way into that tight, tight body. They hadn't really said anything afterwards, just fallen asleep and Xander had left the next morning, not even knowing Brian's last name. Xander sent another quick prayer of thanks to all that was holy that he had still had those condoms in his wallet that night, bad enough to have a one night stand, worse to be unsafe about it. He was stupid but not suicidal.

Since then, he had forced himself to admit that he liked it, that in all honesty he had gone looking for it, the sheer physical release of it sublime. Alone in bed at night, he would lie there and remember the feel of it, the drunken lust which washed over them, the way it tasted when Brian came in his mouth. He wanted that with Spike, burned for it. Had to be very, very careful not to let it show, not to let Spike catch the faintest hint of how Xander desired him. But it wasn't just lust. He liked Spike, he enjoyed Spike's company, he was happy and content when Spike was there, anxious and lonely when Spike was gone. When he regained consciousness in the hospital, all he wanted was to feel Spike's cool touch on his skin. Xander leaned his head against the cool marble of the shower and moaned, letting the water beat down on him. Who was he kidding, he was in love with the bleached wonder. From time to time, more and more in the past few weeks, he had caught Spike staring at him with an odd look on his face, some look that made Xander's knees weak and frayed his control. A look that made him want to simply grab the vampire and kiss him stupid, to hell with the consequences.

But now, now Spike had Kat back. Xander slowly banged his head against the wall, ignoring the pain. **Be happy for him, be happy for him, if you love him, you want him to be happy, be happy for him** Xander banged his head in time to the chant in his mind, trying to will himself to be happy, trying to ignore the jealousy gnawing at his insides. He knew how lonely Spike was, no matter how much Spike tried to hide it, and now here was his family back. He wouldn't need Xander anymore. Sighing, Xander turned off the taps then dried himself off, grimacing slightly as he slid into yesterday's clothes. He needed to go home, wanted to change, wanted to just have some time to think about all that he had learned, wanted a chance to get used to being without Spike once again.

He carefully made his way across the living room, past the small dining area, noticing that the curtains were drawn, blacking out the sun. He paused for a moment in the door of the other bedroom, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, gathering up his courage to see Spike in bed with her. He took a few tentative steps into the room, then stopped, staring down at what he saw. Kat was curled on her side under the blankets, arms and legs wrapped around a pillow, comforter tucked tightly under her chin, dark hair swirled around her. Her mouth was slightly open and Xander could faintly hear her breathe, the blankets moving ever so slightly up and down. Spike was sprawled fully clothed on top of the covers next to her, an arm flung over her head with his other hand just barely resting on the curve of her waist. Xander just watched for a moment, feeling a weight lift from his chest. He realized that he had just simply assumed they would be wrapped in one another, had assumed they were lovers simply from the kiss Spike had given her the night before. He figured her description of Spike as family wouldn't stop them, after all, Xander knew that Dru was technically Spike's sire and look at all the years they were together. To say nothing of Spike and Angel. But it was obvious that nothing more than sleep had happened in that room. He cleared his throat, trying to wake only Spike. Neither of them gave any indication that they heard him approach.

"Spike," Xander whispered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. Kat still looked exhausted, blue shadows forming under her eyes. "Spike, hey, wake up a sec."

"Heard you come in, wondered what you wanted other than staring," Spike lifted his head slightly and turned those lovely eyes at Xander. "What is it, whelp, be quick, she's still tired." Spike had heard Xander enter the room, all senses alert even in sleep to any possible threat. He had watched him out of the slit of one eye, savoring a chance to simply stare at Xander, wet hair and all.

"Just, I need to get going, have some stuff I have to do, and, well, didn't want to leave without telling you. Besides, my car's at the Magic Box. You don't happen to remember if the bus route comes this way do you?" Xander settled down gently on the bed, careful not to disturb Kat. For some reason seeing her stretched out, looking so vulnerable was stirring his protective instincts, even knowing nothing could hurt her.

"Don't think so, I'll just take you back," Spike sat up, stretching a little.

"Um, Spike, it's the middle of the day, that might not be the best idea," Xander replied, turning away slightly, not wanting to be caught staring, hoping against hope that Spike couldn't smell what that did to him. "I'll just call Willow or somebody to come get me."

"No, that wouldn't be a good idea, just get Kat to take you," Spike shut his eyes for a moment at the thought of Kat waking to find any of that group there.

"Spike, no, don't wake her," Xander started, watching as Spike leaned down and began cooing in her ear.

"Kat," he called out, stretching out the name. "Kat, wake up, Xander's leaving, Kat." There was no response. Growling a little, Spike tugged on her hair, voice getting stronger. "Kat, get up." Still no response. With a shrug, he reached back a hand and slapped her on the ass.

"Ow, what was that for, I was awake, just ignoring you," came the muffled reply as Kat burrowed deeper into the pillow.

"I know, that's why I did it." Spike just grinned down at her, tugging her over onto her back, ignoring her groan of protest. "Xander has to go, left his car behind. So, get up, put some decent clothes on and drive him back."

"No," came the reply as she pulled the pillow over her head. "You go."

"Can't, daylight and whatnot." Spike reached out and grabbed his cigarettes off the nightstand and lit up.

"No, comfy, not gonna move, where's that stupid phone," she muttered, a pale hand reaching out until she found what she wanted.

Xander watched, amazed, as she dialed a number then snaked the phone under the pillow with her.

"Yes, concierge please. Thank you." The voice was calm and authoritative, all traces of sleep gone. "Yes, who is this? Stephen, this is Katarina de Rien, suite 1412. I need someone to drive a friend back to his car here in town. Can you please arrange that? Yes, yes, that would be fine, certainly, most appreciated. You have a lovely day." She rolled over enough to drop the phone back on the hook, then opened a bleary eye to stare at Xander.

"Driver will be here in about five minutes, would take you myself, but driving is not such a good idea right now. Spike, why don't you wait with him?" With that she settled back down and appeared to drift right back to sleep.

Xander rose off the bed as Spike dropped off the other side, following Xander out of the room. Spike pulled the bedroom door shut and they stood there, staring awkwardly at one another for a minute.

"Well, I guess I'll just be going soon," Xander started, unsure of what to say.

"Sure, mate." Spike suddenly became very occupied with his cigarette, trying to blow rings in the air. He growled at himself, infuriated that he didn't know what to say.

"So, can I, well, call you later," Xander flushed as he heard his voice, heard how tentative and unsure he sounded. He braced himself for the mocking response sure to come.

Spike just shot a glare his direction. "Bloody well better call to tell me you got back safe," the words were growled out, yellow flickering in his eyes. Sending Xander off with some stranger, what was Kat thinking? Sure, she had marked Xander, placing him under her protection, but still. This was the Hellmouth. Spike shook himself mentally. **Losing your grip there, he'll be fine, just going a few minutes to his car, she wouldn't let him leave if she thought there would be a problem**

Xander nodded, heart warming at Spike's words. "Sure, not a problem. Maybe, well, maybe you could come over tonight, bring her with you of course. I, well, I would like to show her the house." Xander felt a little foolish at that, what was his house compared to this. He looked over at Spike, a firm resolution gripping his heart. She was Spike's family, she was important to Spike. That meant that he would be nice, would try to make her like him, maybe then she would share, just a little.

Spike nodded, "She'll like that." They stood together quietly, simply enjoying the other's presence until they heard the knock on the door. Spike followed Xander to the door, not wanting to see him go. "I'm serious, call when you get back to the house."

Xander looked back, smiling slightly at the concern in Spike's voice. "Will do, see you later." The door clicked shut behind him and Spike stared for a second then made his way back to the bedroom.

"He's perfectly safe, stop being such a pansy."

"Am not," Spike plopped onto the bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Kat turned over and raised on one elbow staring at Spike.

"Got it real bad. When I wake up, we're going to have a chat." She settled back down, turning on her side again.

"So, I take it that beautiful boy is the reason that you called and made me fly my sorry, sad, wanting to curl up into a little ball and just be miserable because my beautiful lover just died ass over an ocean, an ocean, mind you, to see you?" Kat looked up from buttering her toast. Ahh, she loved high class hotels. Call room service at 7:30 at night, tell them you want breakfast and they didn't even bat an eye.

"Well, I didn't know that Cassie died now, did I, and, might I add, you seem to be taking that just a little bit too well," Spike arched an eyebrow at her over his own glass of blood.

"Long story, tell you later," Kat grinned back at him.

"No, long story, tell me now," Spike replied putting the glass down. "Katarina, you were with her for sixteen years, you almost blew Sydney off the face of the earth and I know for a fact you haven't lost control like that since that unfortunate incident in Hamburg in 1912. You were crying your eyes out last night and now you act like nothing is wrong? Forgive me if I seem a little less than convinced." Spike reached out to spear a sausage. Always did love sausage. An evil grin crossed his face. Pun definitely intended.

"No, short version. When Cassie got so sick, she made me promise to let her go. Fought about it for about six months until she won. Never could deny her anything. Then, two weeks ago when it was apparent that this was it, she made me promise her one last thing. I could have nine days. Nine days to be as sad and miserable and lonely and angry and anything else I wanted. But after that, then I had to be happy again. Or pretend to be. She made me swear. Said I couldn't stay with her if I didn't promise. So I promised. And you know I can't break a promise to my mate. Nine days are up now. Time to pretend to be happy." Kat looked up, smiling. "Actually isn't as hard as I thought. Every time I smile I know it would make her happy. And that makes it easier."

Spike chewed slowly, turning the words over in his mind. Six months ago, that's when Kat had first contacted him. She knew then that Cassie was all but gone. "I see, so that's the plan, just pretend to be happy until you are."

"I guess, it was her plan not mine. And you, my sweet, are stalling. Why did you call me? What was so bad it made you call on the bond?" She pinned him down with her gaze, knowing he would be unable to break the contact.

"Wasn't sure you would come," Spike hesitated, not really wanting to talk about this. "Just, Xander got hurt." The words were barely audible.

"I know, I seem to remember someone babbling on and on about it. What was so awful, he seems fine now, he was fine at the time," Kat paused, brow creasing in thought. "What was so awful about it?"