man in motion

Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

Chapter 22

demonhunter92: Willow?
demonhunter92: Perhaps you're away from your computer at present?

redheadwicca: willow's not home. she must've forgotten to log off.

demonhunter92: Oh, terribly sorry. This is Wesley. Is this Buffy?

redheadwicca: no it's dawn. hi wes. do you want me to get buffy? where are you?

demonhunter92: My connecting flight's been delayed. Thunderstorms in Chicago. Yes, please, if Buffy's available, that would be splendid.

redheadwicca: just a sec.

demonhunter92: I'm going to attempt to IM Mr. Giles and bring him to this conversation.

redheadwicca: Wes? Hey it's Buffy. Sorry, I was asleep.

demonhunter92: Quite all right. I should be arriving in Cleveland in a few hours, but I think Giles may have sent Willow some pertinent information about your troubles there. I wanted to see if you'd gotten them yet.

redheadwicca: I don't know Will's email password.

demonhunter92: One moment.

* demonhunter92 is inviting _bowie_fan_ to channel #information
* demonhunter92 is inviting redheadwicca to channel #information
* redheadwicca has joined channel #information
* _bowie_fan_ has joined channel #information

redheadwicca: Bowie fan? ;)

_bowie_fan_: Willow, please. This is no time to mock me.

redheadwicca: Actually it's Buffy. And I think the nick is cute. *g*

_bowie_fan_: Yes, well... to get on with actual things of import, did Willow receive my e-mail?

redheadwicca: I told Wes I dunno. She's at the hospital. The not-Spike thing kind of hurt Kennedy real bad.

_bowie_fan_: Oh, good heavens!

redheadwicca: It's kind of way uncool here right now, guys. What did you send Will?

_bowie_fan_: An idea sprang to mind after I spoke with Wesley this morning. Wesley, do you remember the things you told me about the scroll and the resurrection of Darla?

demonhunter92: Of course.

_bowie_fan_: I do believe that something similar may be attempted to take care of the "not-Spike," as you put it, Buffy.

redheadwicca: Huh?

_bowie_fan_: It's possible he may be used to both bring about his own destruction as well as resurrect Angel. Which, by the way, I'm terribly sorry to have heard about what befell him.

redheadwicca: ...
redheadwicca: thank you

demonhunter92: Buffy, a few years ago, Darla was resurrected as a human. There's a spell that involves using the energy of several vampires to bring a deceased one back to life.

redheadwicca: You guys want to use NS to bring back Angel?

_bowie_fan_: NS?

redheadwicca: Not-Spike. Sorry. Do I have to type that out every time? :p

demonhunter92: It might very well be possible, yes.

redheadwicca: So... what would happen to NS?

demonhunter92: Well, the vampires used in the spell would be rather... destroyed.

redheadwicca: No.

_bowie_fan_: NO?! Buffy, this would take care of both problems at once.

redheadwicca: Hello, did Willow not fill you guys in on what fang boy said to us?!?! If we kill HIM, that would kill SPIKE. Giles, he's HUMAN now! Soul, reflection, walking around in the daytime, the whole nine yards... to kill him... I mean... that would be just as bad as killing ANY INNOCENT PERSON!!!!

_bowie_fan_: I do believe you're losing sight of the big picture here, Buffy.

demonhunter92: Giles, we could do more research and see if there's not a way around this.

_bowie_fan_: Do you honestly believe that the life of one person -- a person who, may I remind you, spent a century as a murderer, is worth losing the opportunity to both destroy his demon self as well as resurrect Angel?

redheadwicca: News flash, Giles: Angel killed people, too.

_bowie_fan_: I'm well aware of that. There's always the option of merely staking the "NS," you know, and not bothering with the spell at all...

redheadwicca: Orrrrrrrrrr we could just continue to contain him and not attempt the spell.

demonhunter92: I feel there's something I'm perhaps missing here.

_bowie_fan_: Wesley, Buffy has a weak spot where Spike is concerned, and she's lost all objectivity.

redheadwicca: I HAVE NOT!

_bowie_fan_: Do you deny that you have feelings for him? Feelings which perhaps even rival those you felt for Angel? I understand this is intrusive of me to comment on, but time and again you've shown yourself incapable of doing what must be done where he's concerned!

redheadwicca: Which part of "he's human now" and "HE SAVED THE WORLD" do you NOT GET?!?!

demonhunter92: Let's all do please try to remain calm, shall we?

_bowie_fan_: Wesley, with all due respect...

demonhunter92: Yes, right, whenever I have something to offer it's always met with an insistence that I should "shut my pie hole" or some such, isn't it? Rupert, I'm not the same naive lad I was when last you saw me, you know.

redheadwicca: Guys?
redheadwicca: Both of you?
redheadwicca: Shut up.
redheadwicca: Wes, have a taxi take you to 47 Stanley Avenue when you get into town.
redheadwicca: Giles? Keep doing research. Talk to the coven again. I'm more concerned right now about taking care of the vampire without hurting Spike than about maybe trying to bring Angel back. At least... Never mind. Anyway, if you can't find a way, then we'll just keep on keeping him under lock and key.
redheadwicca: EITHER of you try to do ANYTHING funny, and there'll be hell to pay.
redheadwicca: GOT IT?!

demonhunter92: I'M clear on that, Buffy. Believe me, I'm more in agreement with you on most of this than you may think.

redheadwicca: Thank you.

demonhunter92: Must dash, they're boarding us now. See you in a bit.

* demonhunter92 has left channel #information

redheadwicca: Giles?

_bowie_fan_: Are you going to continue being this willful and overly sentimental your whole life?

redheadwicca: Overly sentimental? Geez, I don't think anybody's accused me of that lately.

_bowie_fan_: Well, I can see things in you that others may not always find so obvious.

redheadwicca: I love him, Giles. And even if I didn't, it would still be wrong. We don't kill humans. He's human. End of story.

_bowie_fan_: Sometimes one must make hard choices, you know. It's not always so cut and dried.

redheadwicca: Yeah it is. He's not sacrificing himself again. He did that once. He deserves to be allowed to LIVE now.

_bowie_fan_: Buffy, I do beg you to think this through very carefully.

redheadwicca: Giles? Push me on this, and I'll MARRY him just to spite YOU! I'm going now, and I don't want to keep arguing about this. OK?

_bowie_fan_: I don't agree with you. Not one bit.

* redheadwicca has left channel #information

_bowie_fan_: Am I the only rational individual involved in this situation?

* _bowie_fan_ has left channel #information

***

Giles turned from the computer and rubbed his eyes. Someday, you'll have to tell her what you did to Ben, a little voice nagged in his head. Might go a ways in helping her understand that sometimes it is necessary to take a human life.

Yet at the same time, he knew Buffy had a point as well. Spike had done a noble thing, he'd actually made great strides in proving himself worth of her trust near the end. Besides, you were able to mostly get to a wary acceptance of Angel, even after what he did to Jenny...

With a heavy sigh, he slipped on his coat and left his flat. He hated to continue to impose upon the coven, but they were one of their only links to supernatural insights these days. I won't get Buffy's hopes up, Giles thought, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to at least attempt to find a way 'round this that keeps that berk alive.

***

Spike smiled lazily as Buffy came back to the bedroom. He was stretched out comfortably beneath disheveled sheets and blankets, and his eyes danced up and down Buffy's slim form. "Everything all right?"

Buffy shrugged slightly, then flicked the lock on the door. "No more interruptions, I promise."

"Right, then, where were we?"

Buffy sank to the bed, propping herself up on one elbow. "I think we were discussing world events," she said with a soft giggle.

Spike's hand trailed along Buffy's jawline, then slid down to the top button of her blouse. "Of course," he murmured, slipping the button open and planting a soft kiss at the apex of her cleavage. "So, yeah... how 'bout that national debt? Pisser, i'n'it?"

"Totally," Buffy purred, pulling his head closer.

He continued unbuttoning her blouse, laying the filmy white material open and bending lower to tease her left nipple into a hard peak with his teeth, nipping at the lacy filigree of her bra. Buffy arched her back slightly, a warm swell of contentment filling her, blood drawing away from her head in blissful dizziness.

Spike grasped Buffy around the waist, bringing her to hover on top of him, and drew her down in a lingering kiss, their tongues melting against each other. She scrabbled against the blankets, sliding beneath them to feel his warm naked body against her still half-clothed one. His erection stirred between her legs.

She smiled down at him, then slowly descended, drawing a languid trail along his chest with her lips and tongue, finally reaching his cock. When she wrapped her mouth around it, Spike let out a brief grunt and closed his eyes, oblivious to everything but Buffy's ministrations. His hips rose and fell as she suckled him, unhurried strokes against his velvety skin. She wrapped her fingers loosely around the base of his shaft, pumping him lightly as she licked along the head, savoring the taste of him. Before he was too close to the edge, she gently slipped her hand up his abdomen, her tongue skimming him one last time from base to tip, slowly and tenderly.

He growled low in his throat. "Tease."

Before she could respond, she was suddenly on her back, her long skirt sliding down past her hips, flying across the room in a blur of dark denim. Spike sat up, bringing Buffy with him for another kiss, peeling her blouse from her shoulders as he nibbled the fullness of her bottom lip. He trailed his hands down the soft contours of her back, fingers skipping along her spine to the clasp of her bra. As he released it, the straps glided down her narrow shoulders, and the garment soon joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

Spike laid Buffy back down reverently against the mattress. She drew her knees up slightly, and she began to remove her panties before he caught her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Let a man do his job, eh?" he said with a grin.

His other hand disappeared, but instead of taking her panties off, he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, the soft pad of his index finger pressing against her clit, urging it to swell. Buffy's lips parted, and her breathing became heavier. Her wide emerald eyes pinned on his face, she whispered his name and sighed softly.

Continuing to massage the hardening bundle of nerves with one finger, Spike trailed a second one down the path of skin between her moist folds, tracing circular patterns around the mouth of her opening. The mischievous smile left his face, and he looked down into her face with an expression of both love and slight disbelief, as if he couldn't quite comprehend the reality of the moment.

Buffy's eyelids fluttered slightly when at last he plunged his finger inside her, an abrupt, swift motion. The sensation of fullness was intoxicating, and her walls clenched and released around him as he added another finger. She gasped as he slowly withdrew his hand, then sunk his fingers back inside again, gently striking the satiny upper shelf within her, an action that was greeted with a decidedly kittenish sound of pleasure. Her small breasts perked ceilingward as her back pulled up from the bed, her hips thrusting. "Closer," Buffy moaned. She circled her mound against his hand, grinding hard into his palm.

Spike pulled his fingers from inside her, cupping her crotch and giving her engorged button one last stroke with his thumb. He pushed the back of his hand against the fabric of her panties and released her wrists to bring his other hand down, peeling the sodden fabric from her and sliding it down her slim legs. He began to descend, the intention clear that he wanted to bury his face in her, but she tugged at his shoulders and kissed him instead.

"I just want you inside me," Buffy told him, her voice husky with need. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and Spike pushed his pelvic bone against her slightly, eliciting another low moan from her.

Suddenly he pulled back, his weight resting on his wrists. He looked away, concern knitting his brow.

"Uh... luv?" he murmured. "We, er, that is..."

Buffy propped herself up and moved to release her legs from around him. "What?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

Spike turned back to her, a vaguely bashful smile playing across his lips. "Things're a bit different now, you know... I... well, that is, I would presume I'm not so much shootin' blanks anymore..."

Buffy looked at him with confusion for an instant, finally registering what he meant. She couldn't help but giggle. "Oh," she said. "Is that all..."

Spike rolled off her, bringing her down to let her head rest against his chest. "Wouldn't say that's all. Bit of a big deal, in my estimation."

Buffy kissed his shoulder. "Unfortunately, I'm not on the pill," she remarked sadly.

"Wouldn't happen to have anything around in the way of a rubber, would you?" he asked.

"I know I don't," she replied. She ran the short list of her houseguests through her head... single guy, lesbian couple, teenage girl, Faith... Hmm... "Uh, Faith might, but, um..." She laughed. "Yeah, not real eager to go ask her."

Spike chuckled. "That's all right, pet," he said. "S'pose I'll go dash out for some later. Though... eh... well, if I tell you somethin', promise you won't poke fun at me?"

"Would I do that?" Buffy asked innocently.

"Yeah, you would," he replied. "It's just that, well, never had the need for 'em before, you know? Might need a spot of --"

She cut him off with a kiss. "I'll walk you through it," she assured him.

"Feel a bit of a fool..."

She shook her head. "Don't," Buffy said. "Although, in a way, since you're all newly-human, it's kinda like you're a..."

"Don't even say it!" Spike said. He growled and spun Buffy onto her back. "You intimate that I'm a bleeding virgin, and I'll just have to show you how very inaccurate that notion is."

"Yay for me, then," Buffy grinned.

Chapter 23

He startled awake at the feel of a cool hand on his forehead, and despite the gentleness of the caress, it disturbed him enough that he shrank back, far out of reach.

"It okay, it's just me," came a soft voice in the darkness. "You're fine. Nothing's going to hurt you."

He swallowed hard and opened his eyes. She was smiling -- beaming, really -- and looking at him in wonder.

"Cordy..." he murmured.

"Took you long enough to wake up!" she said with a gleeful laugh. "I was about ready to throw a glass of water in your face!"

He reached out a trembling hand to her, stroking her hair. Odd, he noticed, it's long. She hasn't worn it long in years.

"You're alive... How..."

Cordy's smile softened. "Oh," she said quietly, "you don't remember yet. Just try to relax. When it comes back to you, it might hurt."

That's when it hit him, and he screamed.

She immediately was at his side, holding him, whispering words of comfort until at last he collapsed against her, weeping unabashedly.

"It's okay, Angel. You're fine now. Don't you feel okay?"

Angel tried to get a sense of how he felt, and to his astonishment, he found she was right. He felt fine. Better than fine, in fact.

"Is this... heaven?" he asked.

Cordy shook her head. "Think of this as a rest stop," she said. "You would've gone on somewhere more permanent, but then I guess they found out you won't be here long." She frowned slightly. "I'm gonna miss you," she added.

"But I'm dead!" Angel protested. "Why can't I stay here?" He gazed lovingly into her eyes. "I want to stay."

"It's not in our control," she replied. "You're going to go back."

Angel sighed. Great, he thought. Yet again, apparently the Powers don't think I've finished something. Why don't they just tell me what I need to finish for once?

"When?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"Soon." She kissed his forehead.

"But not yet?"

"No, not yet."

Angel wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close. "I love you. I want to be with you..."

"I know," she said. "So do I. But they need you."

***

Buffy was slicing the heads off Turok-Han left and right, the blade of her scythe making a satisfying whoosh through the air as she wielded it. Their grey malformed bodies disintegrated into sparkling clouds of ash and silt, drifting in the dank air for an instant before settling themselves on the ground, on Buffy, coating her hair and clothing.

Behind her, Spike was crying out in agony, a long piercing wail of pain, wordless and primal. Buffy spun around and watched in terror as his flesh melted away, long strips of skin falling from his handsome face, desiccating his visage to reveal the hollow-eyed blackened monstrosity of a charred skull. Impossibly, he continued to moan and wail long after he was nothing but a skeleton, the long dark bones of which finally swirled into a column of dirt before falling to the earth as the First's legions had done. Buffy blinked back hot salty tears and smudged her ash-coated hand across the sweat and blood streaming down her forehead.

Low, mocking chortles of sinister laughter then reached the Slayer's ears. She blinked again, hard, breathing raggedly and urging the moisture in her eyes to subside, to let her focus. Her eyes darted about furtively, finally settling on a black-robed figure low in the bowels of the Hellmouth. It held out a pale beckoning hand to her. Without a thought, she scurried down to meet it.

"What does it mean?" she asked the figure looming over her, her voice cracking, trying to make herself heard over the rumble of the building collapsing above ground. "How do we fix this?"

The figure slowly lifted the hood from its face to reveal a gentle smile and short dark hair, eyes raw with decades of melancholy. Buffy gasped. "Angel!" Her tears flowed freely, but now out of joy and surprise. She stepped closer, reached out her arms to embrace him, but Angel held his hand out to stop her. Buffy froze, unable to move.

"You're going to do fine," he told her. His voice was strange, echoing as if he were speaking to her from the end of a long corridor. "But don't be surprised if there are consequences."

"What kind of consequences?"

Angel shrugged. The robe melted away, shifting and settling itself into a flowing white shirt and long black coat. Buffy whirled around and realized they now stood in an alley behind the Bronze, the moon glimmering and full in the night sky.

"You're going to need this," Angel said. He reached a hand into his coat and pulled something out. A small box sailed through the air. Buffy caught it, running her fingers along the familiar black velvet.

"You already gave this to me," she said, turning it over in her hands.

When she looked up, Angel was gone.

Buffy opened the box, only to find it empty. "Wait, there was a cross in here," she began nervously. "Silver, with a long chain..."

"Sorry, luv, I needed it," came Spike's voice, tired and sad.

Candles burned, pungent incense filling the small chapel, which was dimly lit and cloyingly hot. Buffy walked with trepidation down the center aisle, stake in hand, searching for Spike. Finally she saw him, draped over an eight-foot tall replica of her necklace, his entire body smoldering where alabaster skin touched unyielding metal. She rushed to him, grasping him by the shoulders, trying to pull him from the cross, but he clung fast.

"Don't," he said, but his voice wasn't coming from him... it sounded through the air as if it were being piped in on unseen speakers. "You need to let me die. I'm a monster."

"No, you're not!" she shouted. "You're human!" She tugged at him once more, and finally he came free, collapsing with a strangled cry of pain to the floor. She knelt beside him, examining the deep bloody burns lashed across his chest and stomach. Abruptly he sat up, his face shifting, fangs elongating, wounds melting away.

"No, I'm not," he snarled. He leapt on her, managing to tear a gash in her neck before dissolving into dust.

Buffy brushed the ash from her face and looked up. Spike was standing above her with a stake in his hand. His hair was dark at the roots, mussed into small ringlets. He smelled of stale aftershave and cigarette smoke, and his clothes were disheveled as if they'd been slept in for weeks. Slowly, a smile spread across his face, and his eyes gleamed merrily. "I'm still here!" he said. "Did him in, and I'm still here!"

Buffy sprang to her feet. She jerked him to her hard, and began kissing him passionately. Her hands tugged at his shirt before she finally broke the kiss and ripped the thin material at the neckline, shredding it down the front. He laughed and began to help her out of her jacket when the staccato clapping started. They stopped, both of them turning toward the sound.

A twisted mass of burnt skin and bone stood in the aisle of the chapel. "Consequences," it said in a hollow whisper of a voice.

Buffy bolted upright with a choked breath, desperate to pull air into her lungs as though she'd been underwater. Tears streamed down her face, and she pulled the sheets away from her sweat-soaked body.

Spike blinked awake and swiftly drew her back down to the pillows, gently holding her down so she wouldn't hit herself as her arms flailed about in panic. Finally her breathing slowed, and he released her. "Buffy, it's all right. It was just a dream."

Buffy merely looked at him and whimpered.

"You think it was a premonition?" he asked. "What was it?"

Her stomach seemed to roll over, tightening itself into a lumpy knot of pain, and she felt a dizzying swell of nausea overtake her. Buffy closed her eyes and took in a long, deep breath, willing herself not to be sick. "Oh, God..."

"Hang on, pet, you look a bit green."

Buffy felt Spike rise from the bed, and moments later he was lifting the back of her head. "Take a sip. You'll feel better."

She propped herself up on her elbows and took the glass from him, eagerly drinking down the cool water. When she'd emptied it, she handed it back to Spike, then sank back down to the bed.

Spike put the glass on the nightstand and sat beside her. He placed the back of his hand against her forehead for a moment, then took one of her hands in his and tenderly stroked it. "Better?" he asked.

"A little," she said, nodding.

"Look better, a touch more pink now," he observed. He leaned down and kissed her on the nose, and she laughed weakly. "So, what was it?" he asked again. "Slayer dream? What'd it show you, eh?"

"Somehow... we can kill him without hurting you..."

Spike looked surprised. "Oh, well, that's good, then, right?" He smiled. "Rather prefer that to the alternative."

"Yeah, but something bad might happen because of it," she said quietly. "I don't know what, exactly."

The doorbell sounded downstairs, and Spike glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "That'll be Wesley, I expect. We ought to get ourselves presentable and go have a chat with him."

"Not yet," Buffy said, closing her eyes again. "Can we just hang out here for a while, please? Somebody'll get us soon, I'm sure. I just wanna rest for a little bit longer."

Spike lay down next to her, and Buffy curled up to press her back against his chest. He kissed her shoulder and slung an arm around her waist. "Always did fit so good together," he mused. "You know, if things do work out all right, and I don't wind up a bit... well, if I get out of this alive, what say you let me move in here? Promise to earn my keep and all."

Buffy remembered her threat to Giles that she'd marry Spike if he didn't ease up, and she let out a giggle.

"What's so funny 'bout that? Sounds right cozy to me, it does." Spike pressed himself against her more closely. Buffy sighed with contentment and ran her hand lazily along his arm.

"It's not that. No, I'd like that... and, um..." She giggled again, trying to picture Spike in a tuxedo, but failing miserably.

"What? Come on, out with it." His fingertips starting tracing whisper-light patterns along her stomach. "I know where you're ticklish, luv, and I will torture it out of you."

Buffy rolled over to face him, reaching her hand up to ruffle his hair. "Someday, I'll tell you. If you're good."

Spike groaned. "Bloody hell. Why does that sound so damn familiar? Just my luck, it'll be another case of you finally sayin' something important just as I'm about to croak."

She smiled. "This time, I promise I won't wait that long."

***

The doorbell rang for the third time, and Dawn sighed. "Isn't somebody gonna answer that?" she called, walking quickly from the kitchen to the living room.

"No, Dawn, nobody cares, we're all off doing more important things," she grumbled to herself. Dawn peered out the peephole and opened the door.

The first thing she noticed was that Wes looked beyond tired. The second thing she noticed was that he looked way hotter than he had the last time Dawn saw him. The nerdy little glasses and tweed were gone, and if she didn't know to expect him, Dawn would've been hard-pressed to recognize the man on the front porch as the same nervous and twitchy guy who'd briefly been Buffy and Faith's Watcher.

He's still way too old for you, silly, Dawn told herself. Gotta be like thirty! Geez, get a grip!

"Hey," she finally managed, trying to sound nonchalant. "C'mon in." She held the door wider and cursed her voice for squeaking slightly.

Wes nodded and entered the house, barely glancing at Dawn.

See? He doesn't even notice you... she thought sadly.

"Um, you want some coffee or tea or something?" she asked as Wes wandered distractedly into the living room and settled tensely on the couch. "I think there might be some soda... no, wait, we're out of --"

"Nothing, thank you, Dawn, I'm fine," Wes said, finally looking at her directly.

Eyes, oh, those are nice eyes...

"Are you quite all right?" he asked, regarding her oddly.

Dawn snapped back to reality and nodded, more eagerly than was necessary. "Totally fine. Yup, that's me, fine with a capital F. A-OK one hundred percent." She paused. "Well, except for the whole vampire-almost-killing-me thing. And the... um..." She looked down at the floor, no longer feeling remotely whimsical. "Angel..."

Wes cringed. "Yes, well, I'm here to help with all of this, in whatever capacity I may be useful," he replied. "Where are the others? We perhaps ought to discuss our options, decide how to proceed and such."

Dawn took a seat in the armchair opposite the sofa. "Let's see, Willow's at the hospital. I'm guessing she'll be there for a while. Kennedy's in pretty bad shape... Um... Xander and Faith were taking turns in the basement guarding the --"

Wesley's eyes widened. "He's here?!" he asked, shocked. "I knew you had him contained, but I didn't know he was in the house!"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Chill, Wes," she said. "He's tied up really tight, and like I said, they're guarding him. It's all good."

He eyed her skeptically.

"Okay, maybe not all good, but it's the best we could do."

Wes nodded. "I suppose it will have to suffice for the present," he agreed. "So, where are Buffy and Spike, then?"

Dawn tried to keep a straight face. "They're, uh, sleeping," she said, punctuating the last word with air quotes. "I'd go knock on their door, but, yeah... not really wanting to."

Wes looked both amused and vaguely irritated. "Ah, I see."

"Fred's around, though." Dawn stood up and wandered toward the kitchen, looking through the picture window toward the back yard. "Yeah, she's outside. Seems kind of upset ever since she heard about... stuff. I think she wanted a little alone time." Dawn flopped back down in her chair and studied Wesley's expression. A slow grin spread across her face. "Wow, you and Fred, huh?"

Oh, well, if I can't have him -- and I totally can't -- Fred's cool, Dawn thought. They'd be cute together.

Wes started to laugh, which turned into a cough, and he pounded himself on the chest. "I beg your pardon?!"

"Please, don't even try to deny it," Dawn giggled. "This explains why she was all excited when she heard you were coming."

Wes cleared his throat as the coughing subsided, and he turned back to Dawn, his face now clearly belying his eagerness. "She was excited?"

"God, you guys have it bad, don't you?" Dawn leaned back in her chair. "This place is starting to feel like hormone central!"

Chapter 24

A small smile crept across her face. Jesus, he almost looks cute when he's asleep, she noticed. Oh, hell, who'm I kidding, he is cute. There was a reason back in the day, after all...

Faith let out a soft breathy laugh, whisper-quiet. Me and the Xand-man gettin' all horizontal. Yeah, good times...

She started to reach over to him to nudge him awake, but stopped, her hand in mid-air. Xander was slumped in his seat with his head tilted forward, leaning on his chest. Instead of waking him, she let her fingers hover over his head, barely touching the tousled locks of his hair. Her chipped dark nails danced lightly over the soft glossy waves, caressing him almost tenderly, fondly.

You didn't deserve to get the wham-bam treatment, babe, she mused.

After a moment, she shook her head. The hell am I doing? There's tons of shit to do. Don't have time for this.

She glanced with apprehension at the vampire, who was still unconscious in his own chair, and resolve finally won out over nostalgia. She brought her foot back a few inches and gently kicked the back left leg of Xander's chair.

He shuddered as the chair shifted, eyes flying open. "Hey, what the --"

Faith hunkered down in front of Xander's face, her index finger against her lips. She pointed to the vampire.

"My turn?" he whispered.

Faith nodded and pointed to the stairs, placed her hand on her chest, then tilted her head, her eyes asking his permission to leave the basement.

Xander gave her a thumbs up and squared his shoulders, attention now turned to the captive. Faith tip-toed to the stairs and crept up near-silently.

When her hand reached the doorknob, she stopped, easing it open painfully slow so the hinges wouldn't creak. She closed it behind her with a soft click, turned around, and found herself face-to-face with her former Watcher.

"Oh!"

"Faith," Wes greeted her evenly.

She took his arm and steered him away from the door. "Gotta keep it down. The inmate's still snoozin', but we don't know how long he'll be out."

"Right. So, how've you been?"

Faith shrugged. "Been better. Been worse." She caught sight of Dawn. "Hey, girlie, where's big sis?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Where do you think?"

"Damn," Faith said with a wry grin. "Score one for the blond wonders." She perched on the edge of the sofa, her long legs wrapping around the arm casually. "So, gang, what's the deal? Got any of that British intuition to bring to the table, Wes?"

"A bit, yes. Er, at least I hope so. I'd prefer we get everyone together before I explain."

Faith groaned. "God, not another meeting," she complained, pushing her head against the cushions, her eyes on the ceiling. "I'm getting twitchy. Girl can only wait so long before she just wants to pound something!"

Wesley smiled sadly. "I'm glad to see you channeling those impulses into productive outlets."

Faith glared at him. "Pound something evil. Is that better?" She sat up straight. "Look, I'm on the right side now," she told Wes, her expression serious. "Not like it's been easy, but you got nothing to worry about from me. I mean that."

"It's true," Dawn chimed in. "She's been great."

"And don't forget what I did for you back in La-La Land, dude."

Wes sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Forgive me. I - I need to realize that your... the changes in you..."

"They're gonna stick this time," Faith said. "I swear."

Wes patted Faith's shoulder, then drew his hand back quickly. "My trust in you will grow, I'd venture. Thank you."

"Hey, don't thank me 'til evil dead down there gets his." Faith stood up. "Okay, so, what do we wanna do? Round up the troops and get chatty, or what? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, right now? Smack-down crap can wait a few hours. I got a wicked jones for some pizza."

***

It wasn't as though Fred thought she was anything particularly special when it came to attracting men. There hadn't even been that many, really. But a part of her knew quite well the small subtle things that would turn heads, and she felt a pang of guilt as she realized that she'd pulled out all her little tricks and used them on Spike.

She'd heard the cab pull up when Wesley arrived, and it was taking all her resolve not to rush back into the house and shower him with kisses.

But she wouldn't. Not now, not yet. Fred had to get over this short-lived little crush on the former vampire, and she wasn't going to try to ingratiate herself back into Wesley's good graces until she'd sorted out just why on earth she'd been such a shameless flirt with another man.

Another man who's totally in love with somebody else, she reminded herself.

She tried to think about all the things about Spike she'd noticed in their brief acquaintance that she didn't like. Smoking, swearing, acting all cocky like he was better than some people, the way he couldn't seem to smile without it suggesting something a little naughty...

Fred blushed. Well, that one's not really a negative, she thought, smiling to herself.

Buffy, though... Fred saw the way she and Spike looked at each other. The way they'd been by turns snippy and sweet in the small bits of conversation she'd witnessed. The way their hands would just magically entwine in such a way that it was likely neither of them realized they were doing it. And, of course, they were holed up in Buffy's room together even now.

It's not like I've even known him very long, Fred told herself. Yeah, okay, maybe there was a tiny spark, but that's all it was. One lonely confused person meeting another, helping each other out. Nothing serious. He flirted back, big whoop. It didn't mean anything. That guy's got a true love, and it's not me.

Suddenly a quiet scraping met her ears, and she turned toward the source of the sound, the back door opening and closing.

And then it was real. He was standing right next to her, and all other impulses and questions died forever.

"I missed you so much," he murmured. "I was afraid --"

"Shh." She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Can we just cut to the chase for once, please?"

Wesley clung fast to Fred as their lips met. Unlike the other all-too-few and brief moments they'd shared, this kiss lingered and grew bold and passionate.

True love, Fred contemplated, relishing the feeling of being enveloped in Wes's embrace. Wow. I think I'm finally getting the idea.

***

"I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a Girgus demon."

"And that's gonna help us how?" Gunn asked.

Lorne grimaced. "As much as I hate to do something so destructive, those fellas have some nifty powers. They can form fireballs as big as your head, lob 'em at something..."

Gunn perked up. "Like, say, a big office building full of karma so bad it eats your soul?"

Lorne put one finger to his nose and pointed at Gunn. "Give the man a cigar."

"Okay," Gunn said, rubbing his hands together. "How many of these things we need? Let's get with the kick ass revenge plan."

"Hold on there, cowboy, we're getting way ahead of ourselves. There's no way we can just stand a small army outside of Wolfram and Hart and shout 'Ready, Aim, Fire.' We need protection spells, cloaking... We need to find out where the weak points in the building are..."

"Crap."

"Plus, even if we can do it?" Lorne said. "It won't bring back the boss."

Gunn looked pensive. A long silence fell between the two, until finally Gunn spoke up again. "We can't do this, can we?" he asked, his voice low and defeated.

"Not alone, but come on! Positive thinking!"

Gunn shook his head. "Nah, man. We can't do this. What's the fucking point?" He stood up and walked to the front door. "I'm done."

Lorne raced after him, but by the time he reached the sidewalk, Gunn was nowhere to be seen.

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