“C’mon, Buff, ya gotta eat something …”

“I told you, Will, I’m not hungry. How can I eat when he’s out there somewhere, thinking I hate him?”

Buffy had gotten a decent night’s sleep, once the worry of whether Spike had gone evil again had passed. But morning brought another realization, that he might not come home if he thought that they thought he was evil again.

And now she had a headache.

“There is something you can do for me though, Will …”

Willow smiled what Buffy affectionately thought of as the girl’s “spunky smile”, all stiff upper lip and the lot. “Anything, Buffy, whatever I can do to help!”

“Good.” Buffy dragged the witch’s arm and started to drag her out of the kitchen, towards the stair. “Set up that crystal thing again, so we can find Spike.”

Willow stopped cold. “Oh … Buffy, I’m sorry, I can’t!”

Buffy stared at her best friend, hurt and surprise in her eyes. “What? But Willow, I thought you thought he was really innocent! We have to find him and tell him we know he’s not evil, and want him to come home!”

“And when exactly did we reach that conclusion, Holmes?” Xander asked from the doorway before Willow could answer. “You really need to learn to lock your door, Buffster,” he added.

“Willow has a magic crystal!”

Xander gave her a wry smile. “Willow has a lot of magic crystals, Buffybot.” He winked.

Buffy smacked him on the arm. “This is serious! Her crystal told us what had really happened to Spike! He hasn’t gone bad on us, he has amnesia!”

Xander blinked. “When did Spike go evil? Er, when did we think he went evil? I mean, not that I didn’t think he was always evil, but when did he go—I mean, when did we THINK he went back to the ‘being with Drusilla’ kind of evil?”

Buffy’s lower lip trembled. “You’ve seen him with DRUSILLA??”

Xander scratched his head. “Is this a trick question? I men, yeah, I’ve seen him with Dru. Or do you mean lately? Now I feel like I’M the one with amnesia! Hey, maybe he’s been watching too much Passions!” Xander laughed. “Isn’t this the part where he’s supposed to go bad because he doesn’t remember who he is, but then he sees Buffy and remembers how good he really is, and gets back together with her and is good again and they live happily ever after and oh my GOD is that disgusting!”

There was a moment of silence, as Buffy and Xander looked at each other in horror (but for different reasons), and Willow gave them a bemused look that said she thought they were both quite mad.

“You know what I think? I think you’re both insane!” she told them, in case they didn’t get it from her expression. “Buffy, Xander has no idea what’s going on, so why don’t you let me tell him, ok? And then I’ll answer your question.”

Buffy nodded and kept quiet while Willow filled Xander in.

***

Cerberus had kept walking the night before until he started to feel Spike faintly in his head. He eventually came upon a field, and found Spike’s scent. This had to be where the vamp had ended up when he went through the witches’ portal. Cerberus could also smell the girl that had come through. Spike felt close enough that he thought he should be just about in range for their telepathy, but then the vamp suddenly started to fade again. Both the scent and the bond led him in the same direction.

The scent stopped around some trailer; Spike had either used another portal or gotten into a car. There were a few other scents around, and signs of a struggle. Two other beings had left with Spike. The dog could feel the bond stretched beyond a trailer where Spike’s scent was strong, as was the girl’s. The sun was going to be up soon. Cerberus had decided to take a chance and see if the girl could help him. She’d let him in, and he spent what little was left of the night and a good hunk of the morning telling the girl his life story. **… and so here I am.**

Shelly nodded, thoroughly captivated by the dog’s story. And then it hit her. She had just listened to a story told by a DOG. A VAMPIRE dog, at that. And here she was, a vampire slayer-in-raining, with a vampire for a father. She sighed. Just when exactly had her life gotten so strange?

Cerberus whined, oblivious to the girl’s plight. Was she going to help him or not?

“So you’re telling me that not all vampires are evil?”

He huffed impatiently. **You knew that already, you’d heard of Angel before!**

“Yeah, but Angel has a SOUL. And I’ve heard the story of William the Bloody, too. I don’t recollect him goin’ good in it.”

**But you knew about him attacking other demons and allying himself with the Slayer!**

“That doesn’t prove anything, except that maybe the Slayer’s a total sap, and that means Angel may not be so angelic either. In fact, I’m kinda wondering why I don’t just stake you right here and now.” Except that she didn’t make a move for her stake.

**Because you want to find your friend and, with my link to Spike, I can lead you to them.**

“If I trust you.”

**I don’t see as you have much of a choice.**

“So why me? Why not just go after them on your own, or get the Slayer to go with you?”

He lowered his head. **I don’t think she would trust me right now, and I don’t dare risk doing this alone. If there’s one thing a dog knows, it’s that the hunt goes better in a pack.**

***

Spike knew he should be sleeping, but he was restless. He had no decisions to make, no hard choices. He knew what he wanted. He was just worried that he might not get it. The hours that ticked by were worse than any torture he’d every known. He wanted this night to come and go already.

He could feel Cerberus in his mind, faintly, but the dog was too far away, or else was refusing to answer. In any case, he didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

Lilah told him Wolfram and Hart wanted him to infiltrate Angel Investigations, and kill off all its members. If he did so, they would remove the chip. But they needed a gesture of faith on his part. If he killed the Slayer, that would be all the gesture they needed to trust him with the task in question. Then they would remove the chip, and he would kill Angel and his friends. Then he could consider himself on the payroll, if he wanted, do jobs here and there and live in the lap of luxury with all the pretty young things he could eat.

No, the night could not come fast enough.

***

“I can’t believe you used that thing to find out what happened with Spike! Why didn’t you use it to learn the winning lotto numbers??”

Willow took a book and whacked Xander on the head with it.

”Hey!” Anya protested. “Don’t damage my merchandise!” she scolded the witch, oblivious to the meaningful look Willow was giving the both of them, gesturing to Buffy.

Buffy was equally oblivious to all of them, her face sad as she stared at the book in front of her on her kitchen table, lost in thought.

Willow’s crystal was a one-shot deal, and it had cut out on them before revealing where Spike had ended up. Now all they could do was wait, and hope he came home. Willow had borrowed some books form the Magic Box in hopes that they might find another spell to find him with. Buffy wanted to go out on patrol, to fight off some of the edginess she was feeling, but she didn’t want to miss Spike if he came home that night. She had already checked out his crypt during the day—he wasn’t there. Where had he ended up? Did he find a place to hole up, safe from sunlight?

When had she started to care so much?

When the phone rang, it startled her nearly out of her chair. Dawn, teenager that she was, was the first one to reach it, even though she had been in the living room. “Spike!” she cried, a smile lighting her face.

Buffy stood, knocking her chair over as she did.

“Spike, we know you aren’t evil! Please say you’re coming home!” Dawn pleaded.

***

Spike was speechless for a moment. He expected that the others hated him, after what he had done. A wave of gratitude for the girl’s enthusiasm washed over him, promptly followed by one of guilt. That they thought he was good just made what he had to do that much harder.

“Dawn, I need to talk to the Slayer.” He winced at that. He had to actually force himself to call her by her real name, rather than call her Nibblet, or refer to Buffy as “Big Sis”.

“Oh … okay, let me get her.” The disappointment in her voice broke his dead heart.

“Spike! Thank God you’re all right!” He wanted to weep at the sound of Buffy’s voice, at the concern he heard in it. “Where are you? Come home, please!” If Dawn had broken his heart, Buffy had made what was left into dust, sure as if she’d staked him.

“Slayer … I have a hostage. We’re going to have it out, you and me, now that my chip isn’t working anymore.” His voice dripped with menace. “If you don’t come, I’m going to feed on this sweet little thing.” He grabbed Kira by the hair and shoved the phone in her face. “Say hello to the Slayer, Kira.”

“Please, you have to help me!” the girl sobbed into the phone.

Spike put the phone back up to his ear. “Hear that, Slayer? Come 235 Bowlingbrook Drive. You don’t get here by seven, I’m having the girl for dinner.” And he hung up.

“You didn’t tell her to come alone…” There was a click from behind him as Lilah hung up the extension.

Spike snorted in derision at the lawyer, making no attempt to hide the true revulsion he felt when he looked at her. “What, you afraid of the Scooby Gang?”

Lilah shrugged. “She believed you were good. It would have been easier for you to kill her if she came as a friend. Now she thinks you’re the enemy, she’ll bring help and weapons. Why make it more difficult?”

Spike eyed her coldly. “So I like a challenge. How could I enjoy sneaking up on her? I want to see the pain in her eyes as she realises I’ve betrayed her. And if she brings the gang, I can hurt her even more as I kill them, one by one, before I put her out of her misery.”

Lilah smiled appreciatively. “Niiiiiiiice. I like your style!”

He smiled back, imagining he was separating her pretty little head form her shoulders with one of the axes on the wall.

***

Buffy’s hand dropped to her side, the phone sliding from her fingers and hitting the linoleum with a clatter. Her knees followed a second later. She didn’t see Willow’s worried face as the girl shook her shoulders, didn’t hear a word she said. All she was aware of was the sudden pain in her throat, the stinging in her eyes. She vaguely became aware of a keening sound, but didn’t realise it was coming from herself.

Willow cradled a bereft Slayer in her arms, sharing lost looks with the rest of the Slayerettes.

***

The moment the sun was set, Cerberus was out Shelly’s door in a flash. She ran for her bike, just barley managing to keep up with the little dog as he tore down the road towards what the people in her park called “Snobsville”.

***

Spike could feel his canine friend getting closer in his mind. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried. Cerberus would allow him to communicate with Buffy without Lilah knowing—if she didn’t think the little dog had gone evil too. If she did, he might get staked alongside his vampman …

***

“We’ll call you when … when we get back,” Willow finished lamely. She knew how much Spike meant to Dawn, how much the girl probably wanted to come with them and see for herself what had become of him. But if they were going to have to stake him—and it certainly was looking that way—it would be best for her to be elsewhere. Bad enough Buffy would have to be there. They didn’t call Giles as it was, thinking he would go ballistic in his protectiveness of his Slayer and ex-Slayer-in-Waiting (and consequently didn’t call Tara either, who was with him at the magic shop). No, it was better for all of them if they didn’t have to worry about Dawn, which was why they were sending her over to a friend’s house. She wished they had time to drive her over, but they just had to trust she would get there safely on her own.

***

“Ow!” Dawn cried as the car hit a bump. She held her breath, praying no one had heard her. Her legs ached, folded as they were, and pressing against the trunk door, desperate to keep it closed, yet open a crack. If it closed completely, it would lock, and she wouldn’t be able to get out. If that happened, her sister might murder her best friend. Being there to protect him was worth a little discomfort in the trunk.

***

“Are you sure you’ll be all right alone?”

“Sure, Mr. Giles,” Tara smiled. “If we get a rush, I’ll call Anya on her cell phone.”

Giles cleaned his glasses, muttering, “Yes, and she’ll be here in two seconds flat.”

Giles was supposed to train the new Slayer-in-waiting, Shelly. She hadn’t agreed to anything but to consider it the night before, and she apparently had no phone. He was going to have to go to her place if he was going to talk to her again; he just hoped she was home.

***

Buffy sat in the back seat of Xander’s car, in body, but her mind was lost in a dream. It as a dream she’d had when she was dead, one she’d shared with Spike. She’d seen his true, inner self, his soul, what she’d accused him of not having, and finally believed that he did love her. It was what had led her back to life. The others had no reason to believe there was anything beyond the chip that kept him on his best behavior, but she knew he wasn’t evil. She trusted and loved him. So what was happening? She felt like the world was crumbling down around her.

Xander looked up every now and again in the rearview mirror, not so much to check for cars—it was a quiet night—as to check on Buffy. He would never admit it, but for all his teasing, he had actually come to like Spike. Well, maybe “like” was a strong word. “Respect” wasn’t quite right either, but the point was that Spike had proven he was on their side time and time again. Well, they thought so, anyway. Xander thought he shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow he was. He felt betrayed. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how Buffy must have felt.

Willow watched her friend too, in the side mirror. She felt like she ought to say something, but what? Sorry that your former mortal enemy turned out to be your mortal enemy still? She felt sick—they had let this monster care for Dawn and fight by their side while Buffy was “gone”. When Buffy came back and it was clear she had brought a soft-spot for Captain Peroxide with her, Willow didn’t argue. She hadn’t thought there was a reason to. That was the problem- she wasn’t thinking. She should have known better. She was supposed to be the “brains” of the group, right? The voice of reason? Some help she was. She had actually even come to like the vampire.

Anya stared more directly at the Slayer, lacking in the human etiquette on “worrying about a friend”. She didn’t understand any of it. Spike had helped them. He could have abandoned them when Buffy died, but he didn’t. And while the others didn’t think much of his pre-chip days, Anya was certain that, if he had reaaaaaally wanted to, he could have killed the Scoobies, and maybe Buffy too. She knew evil demons—she had spent many a lovely evening with quite a few—and Spike was not one. So why the sudden change, just because the chip had stopped working? The situation was only made more confusing by the things Willow’s crystal had supposedly shown them (she made a mental note to charge the witch for the thing—with a discount, of course). The whole thing did not follow a logical progression—surely the others saw that?

“Why is everyone looking like they just lost their best friend?”

“Anya!” Willow gave her a horrified look, and gave Buffy a worried one.

“Spike is NOT my best friend!” Xander protested (A little too much, for it not to be true, Anya thought with a satisfied inner smirk).

“It just seems to me that we are being awfully quick to make assumptions, here. How do we know Spike isn’t under a spell, or being influenced somehow by that other vampire?”

“Sweetie,” Xander spoke through clenched teeth, “You seem to be forgetting that Spike is a demon! Demon equals evil, in my book.”

Anya shot him a hurt look in the mirror. “So nice to know what you truly think of me!”

He sighed. “An, you aren’t a demon anymore—“

“But I was! So you are saying I was evil once! Well like it or not, Mr. Harris, our past is always a part of who we are. I will always be part demon, even if my DNA is all human now. And humans aren’t exactly exempt form the evil department either, for that matter, so why are you so certain they hold the trademark on being good? If beings can’t change, can’t make themselves into who or whatever they want, whenever they want, then what’s the point of any of this? Why live? Why did we bring Buffy back?”

Buffy spoke for the first time since they’d left her house. “I wish you hadn’t.”

None of them said a word the rest of the trip.

***

Spike spent the time after the sun set waiting for Buffy and the Scoobies on the mansion’s massive porch. It was so big, it took him a full minute to pace its length and back again. Lawrence watched him with a bemused grin.

“I’d say you were nervous, if I didn’t know better.”

“Naw, that’s the pacing of a predator anxious for the kill!” Devonshire piped up, sounding a bit defensive. Spike was his grandsire; he was in awe of the legend of William the Bloody, killer of two Slayers. He shook Kira for emphasis on the word “kill”, and she let out a slight whimper. It was the first sound she had made in hours, having given up struggling long past.

Spike halted in his pacing, literally caught like a deer in the headlights if the car that pulled into the drive. The end had arrived in Xander’s beat up old car.

When she got out of the back seat, his undead heart skipped a beat it was never supposed it have in the first place. He feared he would se hate there, but instead saw something that was somehow worse. Misery. The only consolation he had was that he wouldn’t have to look at it much longer.