Imitor Vita Pro Amor by Celeste and Debbie

Within a few more moments, the feeling had passed enough for him to speak. He felt the burning inside him turn to flames of anger, something he was better acquainted with. "Hate to break up the lovers’ reunion and what all, but we got trouble the two of you might wanna hear 'bout." Spike raised his voice to a cool level of irreverent detachment.

Buffy jumped at the sudden, familiar voice. She turned to see Spike leaning against the doorframe, looking rattled and furious. For a moment she wondered what had brought that expression on his face, but suddenly realized that the scene between her and Angel on the couch didn’t look promising. Oh...so not of the good Buff. Talk to him... she told herself. "Spike..."

"The Wicca's found something; think you might wanna get out here before Nibblet's life is in anymore danger," Spike interrupted, cutting her off completely before turning to Angel. "So save the kissing and making up for later, Romeo."

"Spike," Angel said his grand-childe’s name calmly, flatly, to show that there was no emotion behind it. He didn't want to rattle things between him and Buffy, more so than already, in any case.

"Spike..." Buffy started also, getting up off the couch and walking towards him.

"Yes, you're both very articulate, my name is Spike... I’m surprised you remembered," Spike quipped, pushing himself from the door. "Now, if you'd hear what I'm sayin’..."

Angel looked at Buffy with a guilty expression. He gave a half smile of support before leaving the training room, having to push past Spike who was still blocking the doorway.

Buffy looked towards Spike. "Can we talk a second?"

The vampire almost heard the plea in her voice, but decided he wasn’t of the right mind to deal with her, his sire, and the thought her and his sire together at the moment. He could handle Dru leaving him, and could handle the Initiative neutering him, but he could not handle loving someone who would never love him in return, or who couldn’t seem to get over her first love. "No time, Slayer. Platelet’s in danger." Spike turned his back on her.

"Spike! Please!" Buffy's heart hammered. *God, what was going on with her?!* She felt panicked. "I need to talk to you."

Spike turned his head back slightly, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "Save it, Slayer." he turned back around, walking out of the doorway. "I don't really fancy hearing anything you have to say about you’n Peaches right now."

Buffy felt her heart clamp around itself rather painfully and she fought back tears. She clenched her fists at her side and took a deep breath before stomping out of the room. If he wanted to be that way, that was fine. Dawn was in danger; Spike problems could stand to wait until later.

"So what's going on?" she crossed her arms, feeling cold. Her eyes drifted towards Spike who sat at the table, fingers drumming on the surface impatiently. His eyes deliberately avoided her.

"We’ve discovered what kind of demon is after Dawn," Wesley reported, happy to finally speak up.

"It's called a Vidartha demon," Giles started. He then went on to explain what they had discovered up until Spike left the room. "The bad news is, once the demon is has consumed enough life force and energy, it is restored to its full power..."

"Lemme guess. Another Armageddon, end of the world bit?" Buffy quipped wearily. She was tired of everything trying to end the world.

"Well, yes... in time, but I’m afraid that’s not even the worst of it..." Giles took off his glasses.

"Buffy... the power that lives within Dawn alone is enough to not only restore this demon to full status, but quite possibly it will make him immortal as well..." Giles’s hand shook, reaching into his pocket for a tissue, anything to clean his glasses with.

"Bloody hell..." Spike growled, standing. His nerves were shot and he began to pace.

"So all we need to do is keep Dawn safe and go slay this demon," Cordy stated. "Not too difficult!"

"Bollocks..." Spike patted his pockets. "I need to step outside." he sighed, feeling his pack of smokes.

“Spike... dear... its daylight still," Anya frowned, pointing to the thin veil of light that could be seen behind the store’s curtains.

Spike growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest. "Then to bloody hell with you lot…" He pulled the cigarette to his lips and lit without giving a second look to Buffy. He knew if he did, he'd put the damn thing out right then and there.

Buffy ignored Spike and concentrated on a plan of action. "So what about the demon that attacked Spike?"

"I can't pull Dawnie from school, the social workers are still hounding us..." Buffy began to panic. She could never be calm when it came to Dawn.

"So we wait till after school, and take her somewhere she'll be safe," Angel spoke up. "In the meantime, Wesley, and Gunn will start looking for this minion." He offered, looking at the two of them, who nodded.

Buffy checked her watch. "Dawn gets out in an hour, so 'll go pick her up then. Come sunset, Spike, Angel and I will start looking too."

"I suppose Fred and I will have to help Giles..." Cordy grumbled, looking dejectedly at the stack of still unread volumes on the table. She hated books. Fred smiled and patted the actress on the arm.

"Actually Cordelia, I need you to get a list of all the power sources and supplies in Sunnydale," Buffy told her. "It's time we put this demon's lights out for good."

Dawn groaned as the lunch bell rang for a second time, sounding the end of the period. She gathered her trash into her brown bag, before tossing the whole thing into the trashcan. The few the friends she ate with everyday had run off to their lockers together before class. She'd grabbed her school bag earlier, opting to take it with her so she wouldn’t be late for her next class. Her teacher was a real brute.

Stepping out into the hallway of the school, she strolled down towards her class, ignoring the bustle of kids grabbing books from lockers. She opened a doorway to the staircase and found it quite empty, since most kids were still at their lockers. She took the stairs up, her footsteps echoing in the empty hall.

Her heart pounded, realizing just how alone she was. She sighed, shaking her head. She really needed to stop worrying bout being alone. It always seemed like an instinct to her to look over her shoulder. She supposed it came from being stalked as first; the Slayer’s little sister and then the Key, for her entire existence. Dawn had to remind herself that it was daylight, she was in school, and no one would be looking to hurt her...

As if on cue, the lights went out and the area grew completely dark, except for a thin sliver of sunlight coming from the small window a stairwell below.

Dawn gasped, gripping the banister of the staircase with fear. She didn’t feel good about this at all…

A siren rang, and she knew it was the signal for the teachers to evacuate the building. She started back down the stairs, two at a time, towards the first floor exit. Reaching the small window near the lower stair well and she squinted in the dark, out trying to find the door.

The area suddenly filled with a bright light and she heard the sound of live electricity buzzing, like wires had been cut. It sounded close by, perhaps at the staircase she’d just come down from. She grabbed the door handle in the dark, pulling on it sharply. It was locked.

Dawn's heart pounded in fear, realizing that the only other exit was back where she’d come from. The room grew deliriously brighter and she turned to face light, instinct telling her to run, but ration trying to tell her it was probably just some faulty wiring. Her eyes widened upon seeing a hulking form of pure electrical energy standing right in front of her. She screamed, trying to back away, but only succeeding in thumping into the wall beside the door.

The minion tilted it’s head to the side a bit, as if reading her, or studying her. She regarded it wearily, hands pressed up against the cool wall behind her, waiting for it to kill her. The demon, after a moment, seemed satisfied with what he had found, and zapped a small bolt of electricity at her, stunning her.

The force slammed her head back against the wall with a painful thud, and she sunk to the floor, with a little moan, unconscious.

The minion's electrical power dimmed slightly, allowing for gray, alligator skin-like arms to reach down and pick her up. It turned and headed for the basement, where it would escape through the sewers to its lair. It buzzed happily; sure that its master would be beyond pleased with the energy that emanated from this one.

The sun was taking its sweet time coming down, and the others had call with no reports of the minion.

Buffy paced the back room, fear tugging on her heart. She looked at the papers Cordy had gathered and wondered what place to check out first. It only seemed logical an electric demon would be based at some type of supply base, or near to.

She turned to the footsteps to see a brooding vampire, ironically, not the usual one, who was completely avoiding eye contact with her. Brooding must run in the family... she thought. All she could think of was Dawn right now, but hearing and feeling Spike’s frustration, she ached to make things okay between the two of them.

Spike pushed his anger aside for a moment, trying to think how much the Slayer must be worried bout the Bit. Hell, he himself was on the verge of another demon massacre, reminiscent of the one he’d gone on shortly after Buffy’s funeral. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, looking at the floor instead of at Buffy, unsure what to say or if he should say anything at all. He wanted to hear what the Slayer had to say about before, with the Poof, but his main concern was Dawn right now. He wondered what profound revelation had occurred hours before in this very room that could bring back the Slayer and her angelic vampire...

Buffy sighed, knowing he'd stay silent forever if she didn't speak first. "Any news?"

She made as if to say something to him, but thought better of it and lowered her gaze, beginning to pace again. Her heart hammered with every footstep and turn. She stole a quick glance at Spike and her heart leapt a bit, seeing the look of concern in his eyes as he watched her pace. She finally stopped and faced him, arms going around herself, as if shielding herself from his scrutiny. "Spike, I know what you must be thinking right now..."

"I'm thinkin’ we should be doing something for the Bit right now and instead we're all pacing like caged lions," Spike responded nonchalantly, shrugging. Hoping, that maybe if he concentrated on what was really important, it would make him stop hurting so they could avoid talking about it all together. He was brooding and miserable enough as it was.

"I mean about me and Angel," Buffy responded, as always, tenaciously holding firm to her resolve.

"I don't care what the two of you do," Spike shrugged his shoulders again, with obvious envy in his voice.

"Let's not play these games, please," Buffy stepped closer to him. "Spike, stop acting like a jealous boyfriend."

"What?!" his eyes widened, and they looked somewhere between “caught red handed” indignant, and enraged. "I am NOT bloody jealous. Especially of the Grand Poo-ba."

"You 'ave no idea what you're talking bout luv," Spike denied, gaze fixated on the covered curtain behind him. “This is the way I always am.”

Buffy gripped his arm, pleading him to look at her. "Spike, please...listen to me."

"Even if I were jealous, which I’m not, we shouldn't be talking ‘bout this," Spike responded, using his reasonable voice even as he avoided her eyes. If he made contact, he'd break down. "Dawn's in danger."

"I know she is, and we're doing all we can, but Spike... I can't stand this silence between us!" Buffy gripped his arm harder. Her other hand reached out under his chin and she gently turned him to face her. "Look at me, please."

"I don't wanna hear your sympathies Slayer, 'm not hurt bout you and the poof. Should've known it would come to it, 'sides, he's got what 'll never have luv. A soul," Spike tried to shake from her grasp. This time, she let him loose.

"You don't need a soul Spike. I like you just the way you are," she said softly, her stomach filling with butterflies.

He looked purely skeptical at her admonition. She knew that look. It was the look that said he didn’t want, nor would ever need, her pity.

Nervous wasn't strong enough a word to describe what she was feeling right now. That, added with his blatant his skepticism of her word, made her almost faint. But seeing that he was still listening to her, in spite of his doubtfulness, though not looking at her, she drove herself forward. She had come this far, right? Why not go all the way? Angel had been right.

Spike's eyes finally shot up to her face locking with hers. He felt stunned. "What?"

"I don't love Angel anymore, not like I used to," Buffy revealed. Her lips felt dry and she ran her tongue over them, searching for words. “It was a lifetime ago.”

Buffy shook nervously. Why was this so scary? So hard? She leaned in closer to him, the hand gripping his chin, now stroking his cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his, and the entire world seemed to fade away. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Spike recalled something about a bubble…

"BUFFFYYY!!!!!" Willow's voice screeched, shattering the moment. Both heads jerked towards the door.

Buffy shot out of Spike's arms in an instant, charging into the other room at the distress evident in her best friend’s voice.

Spike stayed rooted to his spot for a moment, physically shaking in his knees. He took a moment to compose himself, then charged into the room after her. There was business at hand, after all.

"What?!" Buffy searched the room, looking for the immediate danger. "What is it Will?!"

"It's Dawn..." Willow's eyes were filled with worry, her hand holding the receiver of the phone. "Xander just called..."

Vidartha leaned against its self made throne of smoothly carved stone, listening to the hum of generators above it, buzzing with power that humans had learned to harness over time. His kind had been the first to do so, mold lightning and earth and rock to their needs when they arose. It realized that with the containment of such power so nearby, it made life easier for him, as he did not have to wait for the next electrical storm to conjure or re-power of its servants. Closing its thickly lidded eyes, the creature listened to the flitting of life essence within, consumed from a human the day before. It was a delightful feeling, but not quite enough. At the rate it was going, the demon would have to consume one hundred creatures before it would be restored and it could resume its rest. It hated the world, the loud, squabbling creatures that ruled it and the rumbling, disgusting ones that growled below it. It wished to return to its resting place once again, after gaining enough power to survive more centuries of undisturbed rest. However, the creatures of today seemed remarkably weaker, less powerful, than those the centuries before. Perhaps it was with the comforts of harnessing the power of such forces like electricity that made their lives more comfortable. The less hardship endured, the weaker they seemed to grow, until each life force seemed a shadow of its potential potency. Vidartha would need so many more today than he would have in the time of the Romans or the Greeks. There had been strong souls. The creature recalled somewhere in the recesses of its memory needing only 20 Greek soldiers those centuries ago, to survive until now. Perhaps it had gone too long without sufficient food, that put it in its current, weakened state. If it had woken perhaps, last century, it would have no need of its minion to gather food, as it would have been possible to do so itself. It hated being reliant on something that was not truly alive, nor truly dead. But, it was necessary.

Sighing, the demon settled into its self-made seat and waited for its minion to return. By nightfall, it would have gained and stored sufficient energy from its last meal, and could use the precious little extra it had stored to perform the ritual to vacuum the life from its next victim. Thus the cycle would continue, until it had stored enough excess, and could sleep again.

“They took her,” Willow repeated, looking wide eyed and a little frightened. “In broad daylight! They’re not supposed to do that!”

“What, because it says so in the demon villain’s guide to dos and don’ts?” Gunn drawled. It earned him a fierce look of reproach from both Angel and Giles, and the young street fighter backed off slightly. “Sorry.”

“Do we have any idea where they might have taken her?” Buffy asked, trying to keep her voice calm. Dawn wasn’t dead yet. She had to believe that, in any case.

“But we can do a spell,” Willow finished for her girlfriend. “We can um… we can…”

“S-Set it to find D-Dawn’s energy l-level…”

Buffy looked back between the two witches. “All right. Get started on it. Um…Gunn, Cordy, Fred… see if you guys can’t find anything on the Internet. Look for power surges, electricity failures, anything.”

“Giles, Wesley… I need you to find more about this guy… see if you can’t find out how he eats….takes…does whatever he does to his victims, and if there’s any way to reverse it, or stop it once it’s started. And Giles, call Anya and Xander, tell them to keep looking for Dawn, there’s a chance that maybe she just ditched… and if she did, she is sooo dead…”

“What about us?” Angel asked, having for the first time, seen Buffy in control. The confident woman in charge here was definitely different from the naïve, sometimes-uncertain teenager he had once known. Inwardly, his smile was bitter. Things had changed. The girl he had known once upon a time had been the love of his life. Perhaps the one before him now, was a completely different entity. He had to accept it.

“Angel, Spike, come with me to the back. We’re getting weapons ready.” Turning around, she marched back into the training room, desperately in need to busy her hands.

Spike and Angel regarded each other for a moment, both wary at the prospect of having to be in the same room together. The younger vampire clenched his jaw for a moment and almost abruptly, stopped glaring at his grandsire. The two formed a silent agreement then and there that now was not the time for any sniping; no matter how much they disliked each other. They owed it to Buffy, and to Dawn to concentrate on the task at hand. Spike whirled first, following after Buffy, and Angel followed him.

Gunn looked around to all the others remaining in the room. “Is it really a good idea to let those three be alone together?”

Cordy snorted as she revved up the computer near the office. “YOU want to tell Buffy she can’t?”

The Slayer grabbed a large; double sided axe and threw it in Spike’s direction. The vampire plucked the proffered weapon from the air without missing a beat and grabbed a stake and a sword, which he tossed back to Angel. The elder vampire caught the blade and whirled it in the air around him twice, to gauge the balance of the weapon. The metal sliced through the air with a whistle inaudible to the human ear, its speed balanced with power in a light, but deadly frame. It was a good sword. Buffy pulled her own sword from the rack and handed it to Spike, their hands brushing slightly, with fingers curling slightly towards one another in a lingering touch just long enough to make a point to Angel though not long enough to be noticed by either of the participants. He spun the sword again and wondered if he hadn’t really lost this girl a lifetime ago.

Spike studied Buffy carefully, but let her take charge of the dilemma, giving her space. She had always been her own strength, and he knew she appreciated the others’ faith in it. He believed in her ability. She still however, looked troubled. “Bit’ll be all right, pet.” He said it quietly, while loading a crossbow with an iron tipped bolt. He used a light, confident tone, in part to quell her anxiety without making her feel awkward about it.

She paused in what she was doing for a second, as if processing his words, before resuming. “Yeah. She will be.”

Angel didn’t say anything, and for once, Spike was glad his grand-da decided to refrain from being stupid. He supposed even the densest things could be subdued by a common fear.

Buffy stopped and looked at Spike after a moment’s passing, allowing a small smile when she realized what he was doing. “Thank you.”

“For what, pet?” He looked completely innocent, not a small feat for a vampire who had not only seen, but committed horrendous wrongs in his day.

“For seeing right through me and not saying anything about it,” she admitted, settling a stake into the waistband of her pants.

“And you have been. And you will again. Now buck up, Buffy. We’ll have none of that slowing us down. I need your head in the game, baby.” He paused, his voice catching a little as he realized what he’d called her. Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed. “We um… we concentrate on Dawn now, and we forget playin’ what if, all right? It’s already a bloody dangerous game as it is, an’ we need to be in it all the way, pet.”

She looked down at the floor, properly chastised, with a small, frustrated smile on her face. “We’ll get her back, and she’ll be okay.”

Angel faded back a ways into the shadows on the fringes of the room when he realized that to the other two within in, he no longer existed. Instead he loaded fresh stakes into the spring loads strapped to either of his arms and listened painfully, if not voluntarily, to the simple conversation playing out before him that at the same time, held so many layers it was almost impossible to discern the true meaning of any of the words spoken unless you were one of the two involved. He put a knife in the inside of his duster while he watched from the outside of the bubble.

Dawn's eyes shot open and her first reaction was to move. She made as if to move her rather uncomfortably positioned body, her mind fuzzy, and not quite able to register whether or not she was standing or sitting. Her hands moved slightly and she was alerted to a jingling sound. She moved them a bit more and felt rings encircling her wrists, and the back of her hand hit a wall. Great. She was chained to a wall. Her toes scrapped lightly along the cement floor, barely touching the ground. Heart pounding heavily, she gasped slightly, coming fully awake.

The sweetness of oblivion gone, she went instantly from groggy to scared out of her mind and she tugged futilely, trying to break the chains that bound her. When her efforts were rewarded with absolutely nothing she began to panic, her feet scrambling under her in an attempt to gain some solid footing.

"Ahh, don't move child... you make so much noise…" a voice hissed from the darkness.

Dawn's fear doubled and she froze. She wasn’t alone. Her eyes widened and she scanned the dark, cement room. Squinting in the darkness, she tried to see who her abductor was. "Who are you?!"

"That is of no concern to you. Soon you will not be alive," the voice hissed, closer than before.

"T-t-that's what you think. My sister's the Slayer, and, and she won't be very happy about this, and… lemme tell you... she's killed a hell god, so you'll be a piece of cake!" Dawn responded, not sounding as sure as she would have hoped.

"Silence!!!" it warned in annoyance, the room echoing with the sudden rise in volume.

Dawn felt choked by the heavy feeling of fear in the air. She gasped, willing her eyes to search harder. "What are you? What do you want with me?!"

"I am the lifestealer. And I want your power, sweet one," it revealed. "I can feel your strength, from here. It radiates through the whole room, courses through your blood, singing. There is more power in you than in the entire, pathetic place of those who dwell above..."

Dawn could almost feel the smug smile on the face of her captor. She pulled at her chains, trying to break free. She had to get outta here.

"You'll never break those, little girl. The power within you is pure energy but on the outside, you are still a child...” it trailed off for a second, making an odd sighing sound. “I've never felt such power before. With your power, I will be invincible..."

Buzz's and claps of electricity suddenly filled the room, and the question was almost lost.

Dawn felt her hairs stand on end. That was the same sound she heard before she was attacked at school.

The room was suddenly brighter, and the electric demon appeared, igniting the chamber with its illuminating light. It zapped and buzzed colors of blue, yellow and white. The gray skin underneath was scaly and wrinkled.

Dawn's eyes grew even wider and they adjusted to the light and she looked on in disgust. It was so ugly and disfigured.

"Now, now dear. Don't look so disgusted. "You'll hurt Fortis' feelings..." that familiar voice hissed in her ear. "After all, I'm sure you'll see much worse soon..."

Dawn turned her head away from the demon called Fortis and she screamed in pure horror at the demon near her side. Her feet backpedaled on the wall as she scurried away from it, as far as the chains would allow her.

Vidartha laughed wickedly, its snake-like tongue darting out his fangs. "I am Vidartha, child and soon your power will be mine."

Dawn fought the urge to either hurl or pass out. The repugnant looking demon was over 7 feet tall, with 4 arms, and 2 tentacle-like extensions. Its long, scaled body was shades of dark purple and yellow-green, its tentacles pink and yellow. It had 4 horns protruding rudely from his head, all sharp and black. His head had the shape of a crocodile’s, with long, overgrown fangs and a snake-like tongue hanging limply from its mouth. He was by far the most loathsome looking creature she'd ever seen.

To her shock, a long spiked tail popped out from behind too. It whipped back and forth much like a puppies tale in its excitement. He laughed wickedly, only too pleased by Dawn's reaction. His tongue slithered out, coming to a stop near Dawn's cheek.

She pulled her head to the side sharply, avoiding contact as she yelped. She squirmed against the wall, praying the chains would break. Not that she could get very far with Vidartha and Fortis here. What did this thing want her power for? And what power was it exactly, that she had? How did they know she was The Key? She thought only Glory would want The Key. Confusion only made her fears deepen and she felt tears begin to roll down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her heart screaming out for Spike and Buffy.

The sun was shortly gone, replaced by the rising moon and the chirrups of crickets in the air when the gang was on the move. Willow and Tara led the pack, a glowing orb floating above the palm of Willow's hand, illuminating the their path. The orb was connected to Dawn's aura, and would lead them toward her indefinite location.

Cordelia, Fred and Gunn had come up with 4 closed down energy supplies in Sunnydale and 25 power outages over the past week. They were chasing down the 2 furthest power plants from town to be safe.

Xander and Anya continued their search for Dawn in town. They'd checked her friends, the Bronze, home, Spike's crypt; everywhere Dawn had been renowned for running away to. Nothing came up, so they were headed for another power supplier on the other side of the city limits.

Giles and Wesley hadn’t been able to find much more on Vidartha, than they had already known. He sucked his victim’s dry of all life energy, and they vanished. Giles mentioned something about the transfer requiring a connection to Dawn, most likely by a simple touch.

The watcher had offered to join Buffy, Spike, Angel, Willow and Tara, but Buffy declined his and Wesley's help, afraid they'd be hurt. Instead, she pleaded for him to continue searching for Dawn. Fred had stayed behind with them, searching as well. Though there wasn't much any of them could do.

"I can feel her getting closer, but there's so much energy in the area... It's sorta hard to concentrate..." Will's eyed never left the orb in her hand as she spoke. Her other hand was enclosed in Tara's, drawing strength from her to keep the spell up.

Buffy lengthened her stride, passing Willow. They were close, that was all that mattered. Once they neared a power supply, she'd know exactly where Dawn would be.

"Slow down Slayer," Spike's thick accent commanded, as he jogged to draw up alongside her. "You're makin' it harder on Red by rushing 'er..."

"I can't waste anymore time, Spike, she's close, I feel her..." Buffy continued her pace. Her heart pounded with terror. "God help anyone who hurts Dawn... I'll rip them apart with my bare hands!"

Spike walked beside her, keeping a silent, concerned vigil. His eyes kept slipping over at her, though he tried very hard not to stare. He knew he shouldn't think such thoughts at this time, but he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was when she was determined and angry and in total Slayer mode. She was like a goddess: golden hair floating with her long, confident steps, her hands clutching her crossbow, knuckles white with her grip, her lips pursed in anger, her normally timid, tawny eyes alight with fire, and dear god her body was making Spike think wicked, completely inappropriate thoughts.

Yet still, he noticed the fear behind the fire in her eyes, and the slight, uncertain hesitation in her pace every so often. He gritted his teeth and gripped the handle of the battleaxe under his duster. Someone was going to pay for making her like this, and even more, for thinking they could hurt Dawn, his Lil Bit. They were gonna pay in body pieces and blood, whatever shade or texture it may be.

He stole another quick glance over at Buffy wondering if he should reach out to her, comfort her in some way if possible. He ran his blunt teeth over his bottom lip thoughtfully, waging a battle inside his mind of what to do. He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of the situation, but he also didn't want her to think he wasn't concerned. He groaned softly, feeling like a complete wanker.

So before he could give it a second thought and curse himself for being an idiot, he reached over and put a hand on her shoulder lightly, to find it trembling in the minutest way. His eyes fell on her and he gave her shoulder a soft squeeze.

Her eyes locked with his and she felt a wave of calm come over her. Taking a deep breath, reached nodded slightly; answering the silent question he’d posed. His head moved slightly in return.

She smiled a fleeting smile of reassurance, feeling a bout of renewed strength from their silent communication. She reached up, covering his hand on her shoulder. She gave it a squeeze and her warm fingers lingered on his grasp for a moment. It was amazing how just a look and a touch could renew her spirit and push away her doubt and fears. It was truly a gift; his silent vigil at her side gave her more strength than she'd ever possessed. She pulled his arm off her shoulder gently. The spot he touched burned white hot.

Spike expected her to let go of his hand, finally repulsed at his cold touch. Instead, she laced her her fingers around his, gripping tightly. He was surprised, but made no noise of it. One didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, or some other clichéd saying like that.

Buffy avoided eye contact, blushing from her show of affection. She wanted to return his affection and support for once. Dawn was important to him too, and he must be as afraid as her.

She finally braved a look at him, and she nearly collapsed at the intense gaze he had on her; not to mention the beautiful smile on his lips. She ached to just pull him close, and let him hold her. Let him tell her that everything would be okay, Dawn was safe, the world was safe, and she was loved. But now was not the time.

She turned her head from him. There'd be time later to kiss him and tell him she wanted to give him to give her the chance to love him back. Once Dawn was safe, she'd deal with her feelings for Spike once and for all. Her mind shifted back to the Slayer: rescue sister mode. With Spike at her side, she felt confident that Dawn would be okay.

"Slayer, look!" Spike pointed, his keen eyesight spotting a tall building up ahead. "Looks like the SunnyD Main Power Supply Terminal. Perfect hideout for General Electric and the Vidartha..."

Buffy's less-keen eyesight squinted in the dark of the night, searching ahead. Finally, she could read a sign stating what Spike already saw. "This is it!!"

"I hope so Buffy," Willow frowned. "The orb's sensing too much power all at once, its hard to decipher Dawn's in all this..." the orb in Will's hand glowed a strange mix of different colors, like a disco ball.

Angel stood beside Tara and Willow examining the building. "Should we split up?"

Buffy examined the area. "I don't think we'll need to." Bright lights shimmered in the dark night, coming from the power supplies wires. "If the bastard's starting his ritual, he'll have to be doing it from the generator room." Buffy turned back to her friends. "Will, Tara, you sure you guys wanna go in there?"

"We can help, spells and s-stuff," Tara nodded. "Once we get to Dawn, we may need t-to use our magic."

"Okay," Buffy nodded, relieved to have magic aid. Not to mention, two vamps who would stop at nothing to help her. "Let's go then!" She stormed off, kicking in a door.

Angel stood behind a moment, amazed at the strength this once fragile girl now possessed. Even though he’d seen it again and again tonight, he was in awe of the changes she'd made in her life as she grew up. Well, all changes except for her love for Spike he snorted mentally, storming in after the two witches, bringing up the rear.

Dawn squirmed; pulling and digging her feet into the ground while Fortis pulled her by the chains around her wrists. He was dragging her to a room lined with huge barrels of humming, pulsing sound. A generator room. She doubled her efforts against the minion, seeing Vidartha in the room, hissing, waiting.

He ignored her impetuousness. "Your time has almost come, old one. Your power will bring me invincibility!"

"She will give you great powers, master and we will rule the world!" Fortis tossed her down at his creator’s feet.

"What are you going to do to me?" Dawn's asked, not sure whether to be completely afraid or inconsolably furious.

"Dear, I will draw from your body all that gives you the inner strength of the ancients, until you shrivel up and vanish into oblivion," Vidartha responded, drawing it’s lips into what could be considered a smile. One of his tentacles stretched out and plucked another human Dawn hadn't noticed in the shadows before. He pulled the unconscious human to its body, tentacle wrapped around it. "Watch and observe if you’re curious, child. It will be more painful for you however. Someone of your caliber will need to be awake so I can absorb your powers."

Dawn's heart pounded heavily in pure terror, watching the helpless male in the vile creature's tentacles struggle feebly, though to no avail.

"Fortis, some power please," Vidartha laughed. Why use his own strength gathered from the days when the humans’ generated power could do the same job?

Fortis shot a blaze of power to the electrical wires in the room into one of the generators. The bolt hit the wires, buzzing them to life. They sparked and sizzled with power.

Vidartha closed his beady eyes, as the power radiated to him, making him glow white with energy.

Two of his four hands came from his sides and Dawn noted with no small measure of disgust that they were shaped like suction cups on the underside of an octopus. He placed them over the human's ears and began drawing the power from the man.

The man's body glowed white, crinkling and wrinkling as his life essence was drained. He soon caught fire from the intensity of the transfusion and vanished in a wall of smoke and flame, leaving behind a smell that made Dawn nauseous. She screamed in terror as the last of the human dissipated, too frozen in fear to do much else. She screamed loudly, over and over.

Vidartha turned, laughing magiacally. "It's your turn, my dear..." He felt the surge of energy from the simple human he had just taken. He’d needed the mortal’s power to absorb this special girl's essence. Once all of her essence was obtained, he would be unstoppable. His tentacles whipped out at Dawn, grabbing hold of her.

Dawn's screams grew so loud, her throat burned. She wriggled furiously in its tight grasp, but there was no freeing herself. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, knowing this would be the end for her. She thought of Buffy and Spike and the gang. She hoped they knew she loved them.

Her tears poured down her face as she tried to think of something else besides the pain she was about to experience.

Vidartha's suction-cup hands closed in on her head, and he began sucking her life essence, already feeling a super charge.

Dawn screamed in pain as the hands pulled at her head. She could feel her very being drifting from her body. This was it; her life was over.

Willow studied the orb, still glowing in her hand, and turned left. “This way…we’re getting closer…I think.”

“What’s the plan?” Angel asked, senses on full alert for any potential danger.

“Get in, save Nibblet, kill everything else, get out,” Spike muttered back to his sire in annoyance.

Angel snorted. “Oh, very well thought out, as always, William. How about a plan that won’t get anyone killed?” He looked at Buffy. “What’s the real plan?”

She looked slightly guilty, her eyes sliding back in Spike’s direction. Angel’s mouth flailed open and shut several times. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sheah. And it’s not like you’ve been opposed to the rush in wieldin’ the burnin’ torches an’ the pitchfork before, Angelus,” Spike added, just to annoy his grand-sire. He turned serious at Buffy’s slight expression of warning. “Sorry, baby,” he muttered, instantly chastened.

“Once we get Dawn back you two can do the macho stomping thing as much as you want,” she promised. “C’mon…”

“We’re almost there…the orb is starting to change color…” Willow announced. “It’s either down this hallway or that one…” She moved the glowing ball of light from side to side, pursing her lips. “Um…this one…”

Suddenly, Dawn’s horrified scream split the air. The redhead’s eyes grew wide. “Y-yeah…definitely this one…” she muttered, waving her other hand over the orb, causing it to disappear in a small flash of light, leaving only a trail of curling smoke behind. Spike didn’t comment about the neatness of the trick, as per usual, but instead, with a growl that startled even Angel, pushed ahead of everyone and sprinted down the hall before anyone could say a word. Buffy followed not a foot behind.

Angel looked back to the two witches. “They’re going to get themselves killed,” he rumbled in irritation.

“They kinda get loopy about Dawn,” Willow responded, taking off after her best friend. “Which is why we’ve got to be the reason people. C’mon!”

Hearing her scream had been horrible. The fear and the hopelessness projected from the voice of his girl sent him into a mind-numbing, paralytic fear and at the same time, an all encompassing, fearsome rage. He projected himself forward unwittingly, honing on the source of his treasure’s fear, which radiated from the area in waves. His demon hunted it, drew him towards it without an unsure step. His heart raged at it, vowed that on his love for the girl, he’d destroy whatever it was that had dared touch a hair on his keep’s precious head.

Spike flew towards the door marked “Generator Room” like the demon possessed that he was, and stopped only minimally at the door to gauge its reinforcement before plowing through the wood and snapping the inconsequential thing they called a latch from where it was lodged into the jamb. The door splintered inward with an echoing crack, and the furious vampire kicked the offending shards of wood and plastic from his path as he stormed in, drawing his battle ax from within the inside of his coat.

The site that greeted him forced a strangled roar from his throat and he lunged forward without so much as a thought. It was touching HIS girl. It held her in its limbs, drawing from her the light that he knew was inside, that beautiful shine that was hers to have and hers alone. The ax made it’s decent towards a protruding tentacle of the fiend holding Dawn without missing a beat, and was scant inches away from lopping the offending limb off when Spike felt an enormous shock plow through his chest, knocking him backwards into the wall with enough force to dislodge some of the plaster from it. He grunted and shook himself, staggering to his feet, even as Buffy came barreling through the hole he’d made in the door. He looked up to see what had hit him, and saw the demon he’d fought a few days ago lumbering towards he and the slayer, crackling and buzzing sounds which the vampire guessed were annoyances. The shock he’d received would have been enough to kill him if he’d been alive in the first place, and he struggled with the humming his head was doing, wondering which was from his own head and which was coming from the nearby generators.

The electric minion extended an arm in the direction of Buffy’s blind side as she raced towards Dawn, sword drawn. Spike growled and sprung, tackling her even as an enormous boom filled the air and the blow intended for the slayer slammed into the wall behind her. “Force like that, it’ll kill humans!” he growled, letting Buffy up. “Angel and I will take care of Zap to it, you’n the Wicca’s get Bit out from Big Ugly…” he breathed. She nodded, gave him a look that conveyed her need for him to be careful and her wish of good luck. He smiled that devil may care smile of his back at her, his way of telling her not to worry, and with a growl, launched himself at the electric minion, Angel not far behind.

Buffy hefted her sword and swung boldly at the demon with it’s tentacles wrapped around her baby sister, only to have one of the slimy extensions disengage from the mist of green energy that had started to form in the room and swat at her. The slayer ducked reflexively but the back and forth movement of her attacker was faster than she had anticipated. She grumbled in annoyance as her weapon was knocked from her grasp, falling with a clatter to the concrete floor. She flipped into a somersault to avoid the still flailing tentacle and dove towards the dropped blade, picking it up even as she rolled to her feet.

Spike ducked a ferociously aimed bolt of electricity and Angel followed suit, but not before both vampires smelt the distinct aroma of singed hair. Biting back a snarky comment regarding his grand-poof’s precious follicles, the younger vampire took the small opening he had from the recoil of the demon’s arm and ducked under its defenses, muttering a quick oath as he kicked the creature in the chest, only to feel the bottom of his shoe grow incredibly hot, the shock sending him reeling backwards into Angel.

“Sorry,” he grunted, springing to his feet again, as the older vampire also gained his feet.

“This isn’t working,” Angel muttered, hair still smoking. “We can’t use metal weapons. It’ll just fry us.”

“So glad you figured that out, finally,” Spike drawled insolently, motioning to his discarded ax. “But most of us already got there, Peachy.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Angel spat back, annoyed with his grand-childe’s sarcasm.

Releasing the spring mechanism on one wrist, a stake snapped into his fingers. Spike snatched it without hesitation. “You really think this is going to work?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow at his descendant skeptically.

Spike shrugged. “Haven’t tried it yet. Might as well give it a go before you end up needin’ Extra Strength Rogaine,” he responded smugly. Angel sent him a look of death, but released his other stake and stepped to the right of his childe.

“Dammit, Spike!” Angel growled, vamping out before following the younger vamp.

Stake drawn, Spike ducked under a blast of lightning that issued from the minion’s hand, and using his momentum to send the stake in his arm flying forward, he embedded his weapon into the creature’s forehead, piercing skin and bone. Spike drew back as fast as he could, even as the wood blackened from the charge it received when in contact with the demon’s body. Angel followed after Spike with his own stake, plunging it into their opponent’s chest when it still lumbered forward after Spike’s what should have been fatal blow. “Well, that didn’t work,” the older vampire quipped, dodging a bolt of electricity the immensely brassed off minion shot in his direction, the blackened wood still stuck in its forehead and chest.

The green haze was growing in the room now, swirling in concentration around Dawn and the demon in particular. Buffy was vaguely aware of the sound of Willow and Tara murmuring in unison somewhere in the background, and heard Angel and Spike’s grunts and growls. She forced herself to concentrate on getting Dawn out of danger, and dove towards the demon, only to be knocked back by the force of the energy surrounding it. She stared at it in surprise. “No…” she muttered, throwing her sword point first into the field. The weapon hit the invisible wall and crashed to the floor. “Dawn!!!” she shouted, rushing towards the wall, intent on punching her way through it.

“What are you…” Buffy was cut off when the loose tentacle took another swipe at her. She dodged it by scant inches, swinging her head down and dropping her shoulders to avoid it.

Willow turned back to Tara and took her hand. The witches stared at each other a moment, and linking thoughts; they concentrated on Dawn and the glowing energy that poured forth from her. Suddenly, both girls’ eyes filled green, matching shade with that of Dawn’s mist, and turned towards the girl called Key. “Return!!” they shouted in unison, extending their free hands at Dawn.

“Now what?” Angel grunted, patting down a small flame that had erupted on the lapel of his duster.

“Got one more stake?” Spike asked, noticing the demon was a little tipsy from injuries it had already sustained.

Angel pulled one out of the inside pocket of his duster and tossed it at Spike. “So glad you came up with such a new and improved plan,” he drawled.

Spike flipped his grand-sire off, before moving to the right a bit. “Distract it.”

“Distract it. Wave your hands around and dance like a bloody monkey like Harris does, I don’t care. Just get it off my back long enough for me to get in. Bloke like that’s got to have a power switch somewhere, an’ if it’s not the head, and not the heart, should be round back…”

“Why Cream Puff, didn’t know you cared,” Spiked drawled, moving off as Angel called for the demon’s attention.

“Care? I don’t, but Buffy does,” Angel responded, low enough so that he wasn’t heard by his annoying descendant. After a second of internal debate on how to draw the thing’s attention, he sighed, and threw his arms up, waving them wildly. “Hey ugly! Over here!!”

“Oh, very original,” Spike muttered to himself, circling around to the demon’s blindside. He silently crept around his opponent in a broad half-arc, coming up to it’s left as it threw shocks and made unintelligible noises of anger at Angel, who had taken to picking up pieces of smoldering debris to toss at it to keep its attention off of Spike. Spike waited until he was completely behind the minion, and studied it intensely, ignoring the eye stinging brightness radiating from its body.

He used his hunter’s instinct to look for any anomaly, something out of place in the otherwise uniform makeup of his opponent. Squinting into the light, he studied the gray skin underneath, while at the same time making a list of things this demon would need. A master… he looked over to the demon that Buffy and the Wicca’s were handling…check, master. He tried to ignore the fleeting sense of dread that filled him upon seeing his Pigeon in that monster’s grasp, and reminded himself that these sorts of things had to go one step at a time. Back to the minion, then. Power like that, needed a source of electricity, something to draw its energy from once its personal supply was used, recharge its batteries, so to speak. Right, there were generators all around. Power source, check. Minion would need some way of getting the power from the generator into himself too, right? A plug, or something. Spike squinted harder, looking for something along the demon’s body. Outlet…outlet… he stopped.

Well ha bloody, ha, someone had a sense of humor up there. It figured the anomaly he was looking for would be right on the demon’s ass. Rolling his eyes, Spike aimed his last stake and threw it, hard as he could.

There was a roaring noise as Willow and Tara finished whatever spell it was they had been doing, and before long, Buffy realized that the noise was coming from an enraged demon, as the green mist swirled away from the creature in a magnificent show of light and energy, coming together in one brilliant sweep before diving back towards Dawn, where it belonged. It slammed into the teenager forcefully; so much so that Buffy half expected her sister to be knocked across the room. But Dawn remained stationary, as the last of the light returned to its rightful owner. “Can I hit it now?” Buffy asked Willow, lifting her sword, realizing the roaring demon still had its slimy tentacles on her sister.

“Go for it,” Willow prompted her friend, smiling tiredly though triumphantly before turning back to her lover. She squeezed Tara’s hand. “Good work.”

Angel could smell the distinct scent of burning leather as he narrowly missed the last blast from the electricity demon, growling in his mind for Spike to hurry up, even as he picked up a large sized chunk of smoking plaster and tossed it at his enemy. It bounced off the creature’s head and fizzled, though not before the demon’s attention was grabbed and it roared in annoyance. Angel dodged another blast and hastily tried to pat out the small flame that had erupted on the tail of his duster.

Suddenly, his opponent bellowed like an animal and clutched at its backside, growling and howling in a mixture of rage and pain. Angel stopped running but still regarded it warily, picking up another chunk that had been dislodged from the wall in the melee, ready to throw it should he find the need.

The vampire let himself relax when the demon suddenly disintegrated into itself, giving one last anguished cry as it did so. From behind it’s ashes stepped Spike, grinning that cocky ass son of a bitch grin he was so famous for, and looking none the worse for wear after their little fiasco. Angel clapped out the last of the flame nipping at the end of his duster. The elder vampire was about to tell the younger where he could shove that grin of his, but before he could speak, Spike looked over towards the remaining action, where Buffy had plunged a sword into Vidartha’s belly, causing it to let go of Dawn, though it’s tentacles still flailed dangerously close to the weak, disoriented little girl. Angel watched as Spike jumped the railing between them and the main floor of the generator room, duster flying as he ran at inhuman speed towards Dawn.

“Dawn!!! Watch out! Get out of the way!!” Buffy yelled, trying to pull her sword out of the demon though the depth she had lodged it in made the task rather difficult. She looked towards her sister, who appeared on the verge of collapse and finally pulled her sword out, aiming for one of the tentacles before it could hit Dawn. It looked as if she would be too late, until something all in black save for a brilliant shock of hair dove past her.

“Got her!” Spike called without turning around, heading in straight line for Dawn. “Kill it.”

Spike dove before the tentacle could recoil into Dawn, grabbing her around the waist and pulling them to safety as the extension snapped sharply, cracking the air he and his Nibblet had occupied seconds before. He reversed their positions so he hit the floor first, and cradled her tightly in his embrace. Weak as she was, she still let out a whimper of pain upon impact, and the sound nearly broke his heart. “Sorry, beauty.”

He nodded and held her there on the floor, even as the sound of demon parts getting hacked by both the brooding one and a furious slayer sounded in the background. “Yeah, it’s me. In the flesh, Sweet Pea.”

She relaxed a little against him, and her eyelids fluttered in exhaustion. “Smelled like you,” she revealed weakly. “So, it’s okay now?”

“I’ve got you, Bit, don’t worry,” he assured her gently. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“Good. I knew you’d come.” She sighed softly and went limp in his arms, allowing herself to pass out for the first time since the blinding pain had started, knowing she was safe now, and that everything was going to be all right.

Part XXVII
Some Other Beginning’s End (Closing Time)

Spike narrowed his eyes into slits and let the dart fly. It hit the board 15 feet in front of him with a thud and a twang, landing scant inches from the center. He muttered in dissatisfaction and picked up the next one.

“You’ve improved since the last time we did something of this sort,” Angel mused aloud, sipping at his beer but not really indulging heavily as the two soaked up the Bronze atmosphere.

Spike spared a sideways look at his sire, who stood leaning against the edge of one of the Bronze’s many pool tables. “I’ve had practice.”

“They? Oh, you mean the funny voices in your head that only talk to you when you’re alone?”

“Your friends.”

“My friends. And what exactly did the friends I’m not supposed to have, but have anyway, say to you about me?” Spike drawled, letting the second dart go. It landed slightly lower than the one before it, and he growled in annoyance. Angel just loved to throw him off balance, didn’t he?

“They told me that after Buffy died, you trained. Everyday. For hours. They told me you broke yourself trying to be good enough to protect Sunnydale.”

The younger vampire avoided eye contact with his grand-sire as he took up his last dart. “Yeah, well, they lied to you.”

“Only reason I trained like I did was to keep from takin’ myself out for a noonday stroll. Had to do something with myself to make up for the grand fuck up back on Glory’s tower. Had to be good enough to protect Dawn till the end of the world,” Spike responded. “Don’t make it sound more heroic than it is, Poofter.”

“It was selfish. Was for my own gratification, all right? No other reason for it than it made me feel better ‘bout myself,” Spike shot back, glaring at his too calm elder.

Angel shrugged. “If that’s what makes you feel better.”

“It bloody well does, so can we all shut the fuck up and play the soddin’ game?”

Angel regarded his childe for a moment, before getting up from his spot against the pool table. He grabbed three blue tailed darts. “All right,” Angel conceded, closing one eye and cocking his head slightly as he aimed his projectile. “You know, it was weird, coming back here and seeing you and Buffy on good terms.” He let the dart fly. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but I never thought I’d ever see that.”

“Well bully for you. What’s next, Northern Lights maybe? Ripley’s Believe It Or Not?”

The darker vampire ignored his insolent younger. “How does it feel, fighting for the good side?”

“I don’t fight for any side,” Spike snorted derisively as he slammed down half of his Guinness, taking Angel’s vacated spot against the pool table.

“Newsflash, my boy, it’s not like that. The more you fight for the people you love, the more you sympathize with other people, and the people they love.”

Spike growled. “Where’s the sappy philosophy all leadin’ to, Peaches? Cuz if you’d just skip to the point, we could save everyone a lot of time.”

Angel looked nonplussed, and threw another dart. It landed to the right of Spike’s. “You saved a girl the other night, near the woods. For no other reason than to save her.”

“Do the damn Scoobies file reports on me and give ‘em to you for interrogation fodder or somethin’? What the hell is this?”

Angel threw the last dart, and it landed on the line beside the bulls-eye. “Just be honest with me for a second, Will. What made you save that girl?”

Spike eyed his grand-sire warily. He was met with the elder vampire’s usual, stoic, patient façade, and knew that the Grand Poo-ba would push, and push, and push until he got the truth. The younger vampire sighed in defeat. “Thought about Dawn,” he admitted, quietly. “Thought that maybe that girl bein’ dragged off by some big nasty meant as much to someone else out there as Dawn meant to me. Would have destroyed me if I’d ever lost Sweet Pea the way that girl was goin’ to go if I let it happen. Thought maybe if I let someone lose their girl, they’d be in as much pain as I would if I’da lost Dawn. Didn’t think anyone deserved that much hurt.” He shrugged one shoulder casually and pulled out a cigarette. It was on his lips and he was searching for his lighter before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be smoking anymore. Growling, he spit the whole stick out and kicked it halfheartedly across the floor.

Angel came back to lean on the pool table beside Spike, and the two vampires faced the dartboard across the way together. There was quiet, nothing save for the pulsating music and the chatter of the people around them. The older vampire cleared his throat after a beat. “Yeah. So. Welcome to the good guys.”

“Just call me Poofy The Second and give me my bleedin’ cape and tights,” Spike sighed in response. Angel nodded sympathetically and motioned for a waitress by the bar to bring them two more beers.

Angel shoved his hands into his duster pockets. “Yeah, you’re right, it doesn’t. I guess I was just trying to make you feel better.” They sat for a while longer, both brooding. The waitress brought them too more beers, studying both a little before heading back to the bar. They looked more related at that moment than anyone might have ever pegged them for before.

Spike’s gaze traveled slowly upwards from the floor, across the bar to Buffy’s table. She sat with her group of friends, old and new, talking and laughing while Dawn sipped her soda and bobbed her head to the music in the most delightfully adorable fashion. William the Bloody smiled tenderly. “Yeah. It’s worth it.”

Angel stood up. “I’m going to go get Fred. Teach her how to dance. I’m not sure she remembers music.”

Spike eyed his sire, and instead of the usual look of animosity he had when dealing with the older vampire, his eyes sparkled a bit mischievously. “Takin’ a shining to that one, yeah?”

“Yeah, but like you’re dart game, it’s still slightly to the left,” Angel shot back, though there was no vehemence behind it. “Come on.” He led the way through the crowd, weaving a path towards Buffy’s table. Spike followed behind, a bit reluctantly.

“Wait a bloody minute here, Cream Puff. You mean to tell me you’re actually pushing me towards the love of your life?”

Angel thought about the question for a bit, seeing as it had been a completely valid one. He was Buffy’s first love. She had been his everything for the longest time, as well. It took him a while to find the difference between what she and he had had, and what he saw between her and his grand-childe now. But he found it, eventually, and shrugged in response to Spike’s inquiry. “I was just her first love, you know.”

“So kind of you to constantly point that out. But it still doesn’t answer my question. Why me?”

“I was her first love. It isn’t the same as being the love of her life, William.”

“Don’t look now, Buffy…total hotties at ten o’clock,” Dawn giggled, looking over her sister’s shoulder. “And one of them’s so obviously checking you out.”

“He’s not coming over here, is he?” Buffy replied, not interested in the slightest. She was preoccupied with things of greater consequence than the college boy with the crush. She had to find Spike and talk to him. Tonight. She was going to face him tonight. At least, it was what she told herself she was going to do…

“He’s doing the moth to the flame thing…all intense and sexy… and he’s headed right over here,” Willow giggled, sharing a look with Dawn.

“He is sooo hot, Buffy, you need to turn around and see this guy,” Dawn prompted.

Buffy sighed. “Look, I don’t care how cute he is,” the slayer stated, putting her foot down as she began to turn around and face whomever it was that had caught Dawn and Willow’s attention. “I’m going to tell him right off that I’m just not interested and that he should…” She trailed off as she turned around and saw Angel and Spike headed straight for them. She looked at her sister and her best friend. “That was not even funny. And you…” she pointed at Tara. “No warning?”

“They w-weren’t lying… totally cute guys…” Tara mumbled in a combination of complete shyness and sly wickedness.

“Yet completely unsurprising that we heard it anyway,” Cordy put in without missing a beat. Xander looked at her. It was like she never left Sunnydale.

Angel reached the table first. He coughed, eyeing everyone there. “Um, does someone want to dance?”

Gunn looked surprised. “I almost saw Angel sing, now I gotta see him dance?” he asked, incredulous. “No thank you. In fact, turn that to a hell no. I’m out for the night ya’ll. Might be safer if I go look for some vamps to dust.” He put his drink down and left the table. “Who knew sittin’ back at the shop with Watchers one and two would have been safer than clubbin’ for the night?” he muttered to himself, on the way out of the door.

“I’m going with him,” Cordy stated. “This way lies too many bad memories.” She looked at Angel. “I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Angel watched her follow Gunn before turning back to the ladies at the table. “So…dance?”

“Dance?” Fred asked, adjusting her glasses and pushing around the ice in her glass with her straw.

“What those people are doing all around,” Xander pointed out helpfully, motioning to the clubbers sprawled all over the floor around the room. “Well, I guess it passes for dancing in some circles.”

She stood up, taking his hand gently. “There wasn’t any noise like this on Pylea.”

“Yeah, Lorne told me about that, not having music. It’s not that bad, the music, that is. Most of it anyway."

“She’s been through a lot,” Willow agreed. “It’s good that Angel’s trying to take care of her.”

The slayer regarded the two on the dance floor thoughtfully. “Yeah. He’ll be good for her. And I think she’ll help him a lot, too.”

Spike slid into the seat Gunn had vacated next to Dawn. “How you feeling, Platelet?”

She smiled and shook her glass, causing the ice to clink inside. “Building back my strength. Which is cool, cuz I’ve never had so much junk food in my life. I’m glad we threw in this extra Bronze night to celebrate me not being dead. How ‘bout you? I mean, how are you feeling? Okay?” She looked slightly guilty as she asked him that.

“Slightly sore in parts, but better, pet.” He ruffled her hair fondly, which caused her to roll her eyes and pat it back down.

“Punk,” she responded, though there was never any real vehemence behind their teasing. After a second she settled back into her seat and followed her sister’s gaze out on the floor to Angel and Fred, who were dancing comfortably with one another. “Is that total cuteness or what?”

“She’s a sweet girl, that one,” the vampire agreed. “Never thought I’d see the day the Poof…er…Angel danced like that, in front of people,” Spike admitted.

Buffy turned back around from studying her old love and his new friend. Surprisingly, she was fine. Better than she thought she’d be. And she agreed. It was cuteness. If anyone could help Fred get over her horrendous experience in Pylea, it would be Angel. “He looks good when he smiles like that,” she said quietly.

Spike looked down at the table. He didn’t say anything. It must have been hard for her, if how hard it was for Angel was any indication. Not to mention he hated that Puffy could make her voice go all soft like that.

Buffy bit back a little smile at his antics. What was it about her that got him so worked up when she even mentioned another man? What did he see in her that so many men before had looked past? It was strange, watching him react to every little thing she did, made her feel like the most important thing in the world. “Spike?” she asked, breaking the quiet at the table.

He gave her a look that told her she already knew the answer to that. Smiling, she got up and took his hand without thinking or hesitation, and led him out onto the floor. She was going to talk to him. She had Willow’s resolve face on. On the inside. She was going to talk to him, and they were going to dance, and she was not going to care about anything but those strange feelings that her body associated with Spike, and Spike alone.

When they found a spot on the dance floor he made to go as they had danced before, hands at her hips and arms outstretched so as not to alienate her with his presence. But before he could finish the gesture, hands were wrapped around his neck and a cheek was pressed firmly against the juncture of his throat and shoulder. He almost leapt from the shock of it and at the same time was too paralyzed to move. What a strange, strange world he, William the Bloody, lived in. He decided to close his eye and just enjoy it. For however fleeting a moment it might be.

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, gathering strength from his presence while at the same time, marveling about the irony of the entire situation. She was using Spike to pull herself together enough to be able to talk to Spike. How much had she come to rely on this man for over the past few months? The past few years? In her head she began ticking off the things she loved about him… the things that made her laugh and the things that made her angry but which she loved anyway. The list grew rather long, until she was uttering such trivial lovesick proclamations as to the way he sometimes had his shirt half tucked in and half out when she went to see him at his crypt. Perhaps the thing about him that popped up most in his favor to her was his ability to always be completely honest with her but not alienate her with that honesty. She mused that he’d always been confrontational, in any case. And his ability to read human emotion was startling, for someone who wasn’t supposed to feel them, let alone be able to see them. He always seemed acutely aware when Tara was feeling timid, or Dawn was feeling afraid, or she herself was feeling uncertain. And he always adjusted himself to suit them, whether to be Tara’s clown, Dawn’s protector, or her confidence.

She opened her eyes slightly to look at him, and a little smile of delight lit up her face when she read the pure bliss written across his face, from the lightly closed eyes, to the almost wishful expression on his face. Marveling at the thought that she could in turn, make him look so completely content, she sighed and drew herself closer to him, inhaling the scent that was uniquely him, and until today, had no idea she’d memorized and come to cherish. She exhaled with a small sigh of satisfaction. He did this to her. He made her calm, and made her relaxed, and then turned right around and made her angry, made her exasperated, and made her laugh again.

His hold tightened on her at the small noise of pleasure she’d made, and he wondered when he had fallen asleep, and when he was going to wake up. It all seemed unreal, this. And dream as it may be, he wasn’t looking to wake up, anytime soon. He emitted a low, contented growl from the back of his throat and laid cheek against the soft pillow of her hair. Maybe there was redemption to be found for a creature like him in the world after all.

Angel laughed when Fred finally got the hang of it, laughing delightedly. “This sounds nice,” she commented, nodding with enthusiasm.

He nodded. “You’re doing well. I haven’t danced in a long time either.” And as if the Powers were still mocking him, the music changed. Something slow, and something sweet in all its sadness. The movements of the humans around them slowed to match the melancholy beat, and Fred looked slightly bewildered at the drastic change of pace.

“No, it’s just…different,” Angel explained, hesitantly. “See… like… um, like this…” he put his hands on her waist, lightly. She looked a bit startled at first, but eased into it with his cues. “Just put your hands on my shoulders,” he instructed softly. She complied readily, still looking rather uncertain, though smiling at him luminously anyway. He returned it. “Okay?”

“I think I remember this,” she said after watching their feet move for a little bit. “Except I was standing on feet.”

“You mean when you were younger?” he asked. “With your dad maybe? Unless you mean you stepped on someone’s feet on accident…”

“No… I was standing.” She looked upward thoughtfully. “Daddy liked country music,” she blurted. Then she laughed. “That was a long time ago, though.”

“But you remember what this is… that’s good,” Angel urged gently. “See if you can keep remembering.”

“Okay…” She laid her head on his chest. “Just tell me if I do anythin’ wrong…” She turned up so that her chin was poking him slightly so she could look at him. “Okay?”

He nodded. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Kay.” She turned her cheek back against him and closed her eyes. He looked down at the head of dark hair pillowed against his shirt for a second and smiled ironically. Who would have known this was how things would be, merely two and a half years ago?

He spared a look forward, over Fred’s head, and saw Buffy and Spike dancing together. He watched them for a second, their eyes closed and completely self-satisfied expressions on both faces.

He remembered a story in the back of his mind, of a place a long time ago, where there had been a girl that looked like that in his arms and everything had seemed right. Back then, it seemed that there would be happy ending for both the girl and he together. That happily ever after that everyone dreamt of when they were that much in love. Watching her now, through different eyes than those of the man in the story, he realized perhaps there could still be happily ever after for them, if not them together.

So this was it then. He was really, fully, 100% coming to terms with everything that was his old life here in Sunnydale. He belonged to LA officially now. Buffy, and the Scoobies were a cherished part of the past that he had to let go of but would always remember fondly. They’d moved on from him, as well. They had Spike now. Buffy had Spike. She didn’t need him, didn’t need him to come running to her rescue every time he thought she was in trouble.

Maybe he should have just used the phone to call and warn Buffy of the danger, like Cordy had suggested. But at that moment in the past when he’d decided to rev up the convertible and drive for the Hellmouth, he hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known that he was the last person Buffy needed to protect her. She could do it herself. What she needed now, what she’d grown to need since he’d left her, was someone who was just there. Someone who didn’t assume she needed taking care of. She needed someone who could comfort her without making her feel weak. Who could just look at her and know exactly what she was feeling and thinking and wanting. Who didn’t let her fool herself into thinking certain things just because they were easier than the truth.

She’d grown up a lot these two and a half years without him. She’d become strong and beautiful, confident. She wasn’t that unsure teenager that needed protecting, and needed softly murmured reassurances whispered in her ear to soothe her. Maybe back then those sorts of things were what Buffy had wanted. Today, in this day and time, it was the last thing she needed. Spike had been there, had comforted without pushing, had reassured without babying.

Maybe the worst part of it was Buffy had moved on. He still loved her. Still ached to touch her every time he saw her, remembered her kiss and the feel of her, the sound of his name on her lips. He remembered every little thing about her in painstaking, graphic detail, and she’d moved on. He hoped she would cherish what they had had during their once upon a time forever, hold it in her heart as he did. If she didn’t, perhaps that would be enough to undo him.

Fred murmured something about fried chicken and biscuits against his chest and he took a moment to watch her, before training his gaze back on Buffy and Spike. They fit together well, those two. He hated to admit it, to even think it, but the proof was there. And the proof went farther, when he looked at Dawn, and how much she adored Spike, and at Xander, who with whom he had even grown to be buddies. Anya appreciated his opinions and liked his style. Tara loved the vampire like a brother and Willow enjoyed his company and his humor.

As for Buffy? Buffy lived for her banter with Spike, ached for his support, hated his wit, was comforted his presence, was enraged by his tongue and captivated by his voice. She was frustrated by his gall, bashful from his intensity, and vexed by his honesty. She needed his perspective, craved their dance, and despite what she might have said if told, she always seemed mesmerized by his eyes.

That was it, then, wasn’t it? Buffy and Spike stood in their own light, dancing on the other side of the room, blissfully inattentive to anything but the music and the presence of one other. This was really the end now. Angel saw the figurative book with “Buffy and Angel” written across the cover flip the last page in his mind. It was strange for the 250-year-old vampire to come to terms with this sort of thing. Yet there it was. The end. Big, beautiful, gold letters in classic script, sprawling the very last page of his and Buffy’s story. The book was pushed to the side, away from the light, so that a new story could take its place. The end.

The pain, it ached, but it wasn’t so raw now that he’d coped with it, accepted it. And with the end, Angel decided that tonight would be as good a night as any to leave Sunnydale for the last time. The end of the affair with the Hellmouth and its inhabitants had really begun with his 100 years in hell. It reached its epoch tonight. The end. He was going back to LA and the life that he had started there.

Angel turned away from Buffy and Spike as the music faded, looking instead to the door he had seen Gunn and Cordelia go out of moments before, and then down at Fred, head still feather light against the place his heartbeat would be if he had one. The end of something old always led to the beginning of something else.

With that in mind, he stopped moving, and nudged the girl in his arms gently. “Fred…”

He released her, and she took his hand and led them towards the door. “Can we stop at Taco Bell on the way?”

Angel left the Bronze without a backwards glance, knowing he didn’t have to say goodbye, because he already had, a long time ago.

The music stopped and Buffy ceased her movements along with it. She decided it was time now. No more playing, no more lies and no more waiting. It was time to face her fears, and try to be happy. Like Angel had said. She wanted to be happy. She was ready.

Spike’s body complied with hers and came to a halt, his eyes opening slowly, reluctantly, so as to meet her own. “Pet?” The voice was barely above a whisper, questioning and longing all in one syllable.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked breathily, detaching her head from against his chest so she could look up into his eyes.

She chuckled to herself. “I told myself this should be hard, that it should never be this easy, but I look at you and it doesn’t seem that bad.”

“What’s bad?” he asked, concerned. The hand resting against the small of her back clenched and his arms tightened on her slightly by his unconscious effort.

She shook her head and unwrapped her arms from around his throat, resting her palms on the curve of his shoulders. Running her thumbs in small circles against the leather of his duster, she tilted her head slightly to the side and relaxed back into his embrace. “I had this speech all planned out. I was going to wow you with my insight and wit, and you were going to be completely taken with every word I said.”

He laughed quietly, deeply, in the back of his throat. “Pet, you could say the whelp’s name all night and I’d still be captivated by you.”

She turned slightly pink around the ears and looked downward. “You’re a strange vampire,” she revealed softly.

“But that’s why you lo…er… like me.” He looked to the floor as well, aware of the slip he’d made and the futile attempt to cover it.

Her eyes twinkled, seeing him look like that. It was the singularly most adorable, most endearing thing he possibly could have done at that moment. “Yeah… about that…” She put her hand under his chin and brought it upwards, so he’d look at her.

He paused, motionless for a complete moment, and then she watched as he shattered right in front of her. It was the kind of shattering that held nothing back. It let her know that if there was one way to destroy the vampire that she could never kill before, she had found it. Buffy instantly felt bad for saying what she had. “Spike, look at me,” she prompted gently, voice quiet but still demanding.

As much as he didn’t want to, he forced those completely exquisite eyes of his open once more, and looked at her. Simply because she’d asked him to, and no matter what she did to him, he would always do what she asked of him. “Let me finish,” she whispered, hand against his cheek.

“Back at the shop, when we were talking? I thought I was going to let you know then, you know? It would have been less dramatic that way. I thought it would be easier, and everything would just go perfect from then on. But I think this is better. There’s nothing else for me to think about right now, like there was back at the shop. Back at the shop, I was thinking about you, and Angel, and Dawn, and it was all a mess. But now, I can concentrate on what’s important.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “When Angel and I were in the training room, he asked me what made me happy.”

“Sounds like the sort of question Poo-ba would ask,” Spike said softly, though with more resignation than vehemence in is voice.

“He’s smarter than you give him credit for you know. He made me think about some things for the first time. Things I’d been feeling. And sure, it was all, I feel, but I don’t act sort of thing, and I did that ‘cause it was safe, you k