Title:Undivided

Author: Slaymesoftly

Rating: PG13 (ATM) (oops! will be R)

For kazzy_cee’s Spike and Dawn banner – requirements can be found at the end of the story. It takes place in what will quickly be seen to be a non-canon Season V – the parts and the people are all there, but I do different things with them.

Thanks to my poor, long-suffering beta, Always_jbj, who took time from her writing own fic to beta this one for me. Any mistakes you see probably occurred after she finished with it and did my compulsive tinkering. Feel free to point them out. ;)

Undivided

“You really like her, don’t you?” Dawn’s quiet question pulled Spike out of the book through which he’d been searching for some mention of a Hellgod called Glorificus. He shot a quick look around the shop, hoping that no one had overheard the teenager.

“Don’t know who or what you’re talkin’ about, Bit,” he growled.

“Bullshit!”

“Watch your language, missy!”

Dawn’s eyes rolled. “You’re shocked, I’m sure. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Not goin’ to,” he said quietly. “Got more important things to worry about right now, don’ we?”

“You can tell me, you know,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I won’t tell her.”

“Don’t know what the bleedin’ hell you’re on about, Niblet, but it can’t be more important than figuring out this bitch’s weaknesses. Now get to work. It’s not like you don’t have good reason to want her gone.”

The reminder that she was the reason that Glory was in Sunnydale was enough to cause Dawn to drop the subject for a while. She studied the vampire’s face as he flipped through reference books, his eyes scanning the pages rapidly for any trace of information about hellgods and Glory.

I don’t know how Buffy can miss the hotness that is Spike. She was all over him last year when she thought they were getting married. Now she acts like she’s doing him a big favor, letting him take care of Mom and me when she’s not there.

Shaking her head at the stupidity of her older sister, Dawn put her own head down and began searching for more information about Glory and what she might want with a fourteen-year-old former Key.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re going to hide where?” Xander’s voice went into a range that should have been impossible for a grown man.

Buffy sighed in exasperation. “Glory is going to be looking for anybody and everybody that she thinks might have information about the Key. You guys are around me all the time. Ergo, the need to hide until I can think of something to throw her off the track. My mom, Dawn, you, Willow and Tara and Giles. You’re going to hide in Spike’s crypt.”

“Why Spike?”

“Because,” she said tiredly, “he’s the only one strong enough to fight Glory off long enough for you to get away if she does find you. And, besides, how likely is she to go looking for her “Key” in a cemetery? “

Ignoring the rest of Xander’s grumbling, Buffy told him that he and Anya had a half an hour to pack up whatever they thought they would need or want to take with them and then they were to meet her in Restfield.

Willow and Tara were much more willing, only asking softly for some time to gather any herbs and supplies that they might need for a cloaking spell. Spike had become of favorite of Tara’s ever since he proved to her that she wasn’t a demon. Of course, it helped that she hadn’t been around back when he was determined to kill Buffy and her friends; a fact that Willow had to point out to her frequently when she waxed too appreciative of Spike and his help.

“I swear, Tara, if I didn’t know that you don’t like guys, I’d be jealous of the way you talk about Spike,” Willow grumbled, only half-kidding.

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous of, sweetie,” Tara said with a blush. “You know I...I love you. And I don’t think I’m Spike’s type, either,” she added with an enigmatic smile.

“You would be anybody’s type, baby,” Willow said loyally. “Even Spike would love you if he didn’t have to worry that I’d turn him into a toad.”

“Maybe,” was all Tara said, her mind going to the way the vampire’s aura warmed up whenever Buffy was near him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure this is all right with Spike?” Joyce continued to pack, even as she frowned at her oldest daughter.

“I told you, Mom. He’s fine with it. It was practically his idea!”

Not really a lie. I mean, he did say that his crypt had a lot of room and a downstairs part to hide in. He just didn’t say he was volunteering it for my family and friends.

“It seems like such an imposition,” Joyce worried. “All of us? When he’s so used to being alone...”

“Spike doesn’t like to be alone, Mom.” Dawn stuck her head in the door and held up her overnight bag to show that she was ready. “He’ll be glad to see us again.”

Joyce smiled uncertainly, but snapped her bag closed and went to pick it up. Buffy grabbed it before she could move, lifting and carrying it for her. She took the bag downstairs and put it in the back of the big SUV in the driveway. Getting tired of waiting, she went back to the door and yelled inside, “Mom! I’m going to go ahead of you guys and let Spike kno—and be sure that Spike doesn’t need my help with anything. Meet you there!”

As she jogged towards Restfield Cemetery, she mulled over her decision to send everyone to the chipped vampire for safety.

Okay, on the plus side – he likes violence, so he won’t mind if he has to fight off Glory’s minions; he likes my mom and Dawn, so he won’t mind that he has them to watch Passions with. I think he likes Willow and Tara, so he shouldn’t mind having them around – and they just sit together and talk about spells anyway. So that’s all good.

She bit her lip as she turned in the gate and continued her jog.

Let’s see, on the minus side...he and Xander act like they hate each other...But Anya will probably keep Xander busy somewhere – no, wait! She can’t do that in front of Dawn and my mom! Maybe Giles can...Gah!

Her arrival at the vampire’s door coincided with her realization that not everyone who was coming to stay with Spike was necessarily going to be happy about it. Nor were they all among the very few people that he actually liked.

In an attempt to start off on the right foot, she knocked loudly on the door before pushing it open; and found herself very glad that she had. Although she couldn’t be absolutely sure, she strongly suspected that the vampire now sitting up on a sarcophagus and glaring at her, had been lying down with one hand in his pants. As the door had swung open, Buffy was sure that she had seen him sit up quickly and snatch his hand from his open fly, which he was doing his best to hide under his tee shirt. She rolled her eyes and made a big production of turning her back to him, saying tightly, “Put that away and try to act civilized. My mother and Dawn are on their way here.”

“Why don’t you put it away for me, if it bothers you so much?” He managed to growl and leer at the same time, making no attempt to hide what he’d been doing, now that he realized she’d seen him. He slid off the stone slab and pulled up his zipper, pulling his jeans closed with an audible ‘snap’.

“Ewww, Spike! Could you be more of a pig?” She whirled on him, face flushed and eyes blazing. “If you behave like that around Dawn, I’ll...”

She stopped in the middle of her threat, reminding herself that she was there to ask him to take care of people for her so that she could concentrate on finding Glory. She reined in her temper, which wasn’t easy, considering the wide grin on the vampire’s face. Then he added insult to injury by laughing.

“Don’t get your kickers in a twist, Slayer. You know bloody well I’d never say anything like that around the Bit, or Joyce. It’s just that you’re so easy to wind up, I couldn’t resist.”

Buffy tried to maintain her fury in the face of his obviously good-humored teasing, but found the boyish grin he was still wearing to be strangely irresistible.

“Well, you do have a knack for making me mad. Got to hand that to you,” she agreed, fighting to keep the edges of her lips from curling up in an answering smile. “But now’s not really a good time,” she added, sobering as she remembered the purpose of her visit.

Immediately, Spike dropped his grin and walked over to her, barely refraining from laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong, luv? Did you say Joyce and the Bit are on their way here?”

Buffy nodded. “Yes. I...you said...and you did it before, so I thought...” She stammered to a halt, remembering her mother’s words about imposing on the vampire and realizing that she was doing just that. Spike cocked his head and waited patiently for her to finish. When she didn’t, but just stood mutely, staring at the floor, he lost the battle with himself and moved close enough to touch her chin and tip it up so that she could meet his eyes.

“You thought what, pet? That you could bring them here for old, harmless Spike to protect for you? That I’ve got nothin’ better to do than babysit the Slayer’s mum and sis?”

Her lip crept out in a small pout. “Well, you don’t, do you? I mean, other than what you were—and that was—I mean, you aren’t going to die if you can’t—“ Once again her face was bright red, and he dropped his hand and smiled.

“No, luv,” he said softly. “I won’t die if I don’t get a good wank in every day. It jus’ helps me pass the time. There’s nothing like an afternoon fantasy to put a bloke in a good mood for the rest of the day.”

“Well, you’re easily pleased,” she muttered, once again studying the floor intently.

“I take what I can get,” he responded, moving away from her and sitting back on the sarcophagus. “So, how long are your mum and the Bit goin’ to be needin’ my hospitality?”

“About that...”

Before Buffy could say any more, there was another knock. Raising one eyebrow at her, he stood up and walked to the door, stepping back as he opened it, so as to avoid the rays of the sun. Instead of Joyce and Dawn, he was surprised to find Buffy’s watcher standing outside, a heavy bag in each hand.

“May I come in?” he asked, as Spike continued to stare at him. With an abrupt nod, he waved the man in and shut the door behind him. He watched Giles walk to his kitchen and put one of the bags down on the table, before moving to the beat-up couch and sitting down gingerly.

“Um...I can explain,” Buffy said weakly, as Spike turned blue lasers on her.

“I’m waiting.”

She looked around. “Is there someplace private we can talk? Downstairs somewhere?”

The vampire looked startled, then said quickly, “Yeah, alright. Jus’ give me a minute to clean up.” He pulled the cover back from the entrance to the bottom floor of the crypt and dropped into the darkness below. Buffy watched curiously as the opening began to glow with the light from the candles that Spike was clearly lighting. When his, “Alright, Slayer. Be careful on the ladder,” floated up, she waved at her puzzled watcher and peered into the hole. Seeing nothing but bare dirt below the ladder, she dropped in just as Spike had, landing in a crouch and staring around.

“Nicely done, pet,” he appreciated. “Now, what else haven’t you told me that you think you need to say somewhere away from prying eyes and ears?” His shrewd gaze pinned her in place, and she straightened up slowly.

“I’ve asked everybody to come over here to stay with you,” she said bravely. “You’re the only one, besides me, who can fight off Glory’s minions. And anyway, I don’t think they’ll look in a crypt. Do you?”

Spike ignored her question in favor of asking, “And by everybody, you mean....?”

“MomandDawnandGilesandWillowandTaraandAnyaandXander,” she blurted out in one breath.

“Takin’ a lot for granted here, aren’t you, Slayer? Your mum and the Bit, yeah, you know I wouldn’t refuse them, but Harris and his bird?”

Buffy didn’t answer him right away, just chewed on her lower lip and frowned.

“Cat got your tongue, Slayer?”

She shook her head, then raised suspiciously bright eyes to his. “I’m just trying to decide what would work best – threatening to stake you if you don’t do it, or asking you as a...as a friend to help me keep the people I care about safe.”

He studied her face for a second, then turned away, giving her time to compose herself as he asked, “An’ what will you be doing while I’m down here trying not to go crazy with a bunch of white hats living in my crypt?”

“I’m going to try to find that skank that wants my sister and send her back to whatever hell she came from.“

“You don’t think I might be more help to you with the killin’ part than I would be as a watchdog?”

She couldn’t tell from his tight voice if he was angry, hurt or just curious, but she sighed with exasperation anyway.

“I’ve already had enough macho crap from Riley, thank you very much,” she snapped. “Don’t you go all ‘You need me to help you’ on me. I’m the damn Slayer! Not you, not Riley, not anybody else. That’s why the monks gave the Key to me.”

“Alright, pet,” he agreed immediately. “You’re the boss. Got it.” He looked around the large area they were in and said, “I suppose the whelp might be of some use in making this a bit more comfortable for everybody. They’ll be safer down here than they will up there where everybody in the world thinks they can just bust in whenever they want.”

Buffy winced a little at his calm acceptance of the way they all treated his home as public property, but before she could think of anything to say about it, there was a burst of noise from upstairs that indicated the arrival of the Scoobies. With a nod and an ‘after you’ gesture at the ladder, Spike began to follow Buffy to the upper level only to have her stop so abruptly that he almost ran into her. She turned to face him, surprised to find him so close, but meeting his questioning look with determination.

“Thank you,” she said simply, trying not to respond to his proximity as inappropriately as her body seemed to want to. The way his eyes widened told her that he’d noticed the increased heart rate and the warm flush creeping up her throat, but he didn’t say anything about it; only nodded his head and responded with an old-fashioned sounding, “’s my pleasure, Buffy.”

Unable to respond in any way that didn’t scream “wildly inappropriate”, she continued up the ladder, now more than aware that the vampire was right behind her, his face almost close enough to touch her butt. She stepped to one side when she reached the top and waited for Spike to join her before raising her hand to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, listen up, everybody. We know that Glory knows that I have her Key, but that she doesn’t know what or where it is. She also knows who all of you are and that you’re all close to me – which means you’re all in danger. I want you to stay here, with Spike, until I can get rid of Glory. Between his strength and Willow’s magic, I don’t think the minions stand a chance – even if they figure out where you are. You’ll be safe here, and I’ll be able to concentrate on Glory without worrying about you guys.”

“Leaving us here to worry about you,” Joyce said softly as she and Dawn walked in, their arms full of bags of food.

“I’ll be fine,” Buffy said firmly. “She’s strong, but I’m the Slayer. That bitch hasn’t even begun to find out what I can do yet.”

Chapter Two

Okay, this is not going according to plan.

Buffy struggled against the chains suspending her from the ceiling of Glory’s lavish apartment and tried to control the fear that went through her every time there was noise outside the door. She almost blushed with shame as she thought about how easily the hell god had knocked her unconscious after only a few moments of exchanging blows.

I’m never going to hear the end of this from Spike, she groused. Stupid vampire will be all ‘I told you, you needed me for backup, Slayer.’

One of Glory’s minions came into the room, carefully staying out of range of the Slayer’s still-deadly feet and whining, “The honorable Glorificus has gone out for the evening. I’m to tell you that when she returns, she is going to find her Key if she has to remove all your internal organs one at a time.”

Buffy used the chains to swing her body towards the scabby little man, snarling when she just missed his head with her high heeled boot.

“She’ll never find it,” Buffy said, her voice firm and steady. “And it isn’t in one of my internal organs, so good luck with that search.”

The man shrugged. “She will enjoy the search anyway. Then she will suck your brain.” He turned and left the room, locking the door behind him. Buffy squirmed and tugged, but she couldn’t get the right leverage she needed to pull the chains out of their ceiling bolts.

Spike? Giles? Riley? Is anybody looking for me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike’s crypt was beginning to feel very small. Joyce and Dawn sat on the couch watching Passions reruns, and even though Dawn scooted over and made sitting motions, he wasn’t comfortable joining them. Xander and Anya sat in his only chair, the ex-demon on Xander’s lap. Their whispered arguments about whether or not they could explore the rest of Spike’s crypt and find a place to ‘have orgasms’ were inaudible to the humans, but more than apparent to the vampire. Willow and Tara were sitting cross-legged across from each other on the sarcophagus playing with a deck of cards and giggling.

The vampire paced around, his resemblance to a caged animal growing by the hour, as he listened to the chattering going on around him. As he made his tenth pass by the kitchen table, Giles glared at him, snapping, “Can’t you, for god’s sake, sit still?”

“If you’ll look around,” Spike said through clenched teeth, “you’ll see that there is nothing left for me to sit on.”

He glared pointedly at the lone kitchen chair that the watcher had been using while he perused the reference books scattered across the table. With a resigned sigh, Giles reached for his other bag, pulling out an opened bottle of scotch.

“Here. Take this and go somewhere quiet.”

“Are you tryin’ to get me drunk, Rupert? You old dog, you.” Spike’s leering innuendo was half-hearted and Giles barely acknowledged it.

“You should get so fortunate,” he said without looking up from his books.

Spike grabbed the offered bottle and headed for the ladder. “I’ll be in my room,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Don’t get drunk. You’re supposed to be our protection.”

“I know m’ job, Watcher.”

Something in Spike’s tone brought Giles’ eyes up from his books and he studied the vampire, then said quietly, “We do appreciate this, Spike. Contrary to how it must seem to you, I am aware that this is an imposition.”

Spike didn’t answer, just nodded and dropped down to the lower area. He settled down against the headboard of his bed and began taking long drinks from the bottle of scotch.

Upstairs, Dawn began to wander around the large, stone room, watching the witches for a few minutes, then picking up one of Giles’ books. She was scanning through the text, not sure what she wanted to find, but relieved that there was something else to do, when Xander said in a loud whisper, “Why is the evil undead doing this for us?”

Dawn looked up with genuine surprise, took in the thoughtful expressions on everyone else’s face, and said calmly, “Because Buffy asked him to.”

“Threatened him with a dusty funeral is more like it,” Xander said. “I guess the Big Bad is still scared of the Slayer.”

“I heard that!” Spike’s growl drifted up from the lower level. “If you’re going to talk about me, at least remember that I’m a bloody vampire with very keen hearing!” His head poked up from the hole in the floor and glared around the room. “And if I’d known what I was letting myself in for, there wouldn’t be anyone here except Dawn and Joyce!”

His gaze went to the witches, taking in the hurt look on Willow’s face and Tara’s embarrassment.

“An’ maybe Red and her bird – I like Glinda.” He smiled at the two girls on the sarcophagus, his smile growing into a grin when Tara blushed and Willow narrowed her eyes at him.

“Ahem,” Giles cleared his throat noisily, staring pointedly at the now almost empty bottle in Spike’s hand.

“And Rupert,” the vampire added with a sigh. “Can’t throw out the man what brings the whiskey.”

“So, basically, you’re all right with everyone except us. Is that it, Deadboy, Jr.?”

“Well, truth be told, I’ve got nothing against Anyanka there – ‘cept for her terrible taste in men. She’s welcome to stay if she’ll just stop nattering on about shagging you into the ground.”

Xander gestured grandly, saying, “Well, it looks like Deadboy, Jr. is okay with everybody except me.” He turned to glare at Spike. “Too damn bad, fangface. Tell me, what did the Buffster do to you to make you include me in your little slumber party here?”

Spike stared back at the dark-haired boy, meeting Xander’s laughing challenge calmly. “She asked me to help her take care of the people she cares about.” Without waiting for a response, he walked over to Giles and handed him the almost empty bottle. “I’ll be downstairs tryin’ to sort out where to put everybody when they’re ready to sleep.”

Giles watched the vampire disappear into the lower level of his crypt, mulling over what he’d said about Buffy’s request. As much as he wanted to believe that Buffy had intimidated Spike into sharing his home with them, the vampire’s reply to Xander, as well as Dawn’s earlier remark indicated something much different was going on. He gave a mental groan as unwanted images of another vampire that had fallen in love with his slayer began to float through his head. He flashed back to Willow’s spell the previous year and how comfortable the two blonds had seemed to be while thinking themselves engaged to be married. He shook the images from his head and went back to concentrating on his books, hoping vainly to come up with some information that would allow them to exploit any weaknesses Glory might have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was after ten PM, and had been dark for hours when Spike finally permitted the Scoobies to descend the ladder and pick spots for themselves to put their sleeping bags. He saw Anya eyeing his bed and growled, “Over my dusty remains, demon-girl!”

“So,” she sniffed haughtily, “You’re going to sleep in comfort while the rest of us have to sleep on a dirt floor?”

“I’m a vampire, you twit. I’m not going to sleep at all. Joyce and Dawn can use my bed, and the rest of you can unroll some of those rugs over there.” He gestured to a pile of rolled up oriental rugs, causing Giles to raise his eyebrows questioningly. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist there, Watcher. Came by those legally – you’d be surprised what people put out for the dustman when they want to get out of town in a hurry.”

Xander and Giles began to unroll the rugs, making several small piles of them around the large cavern until there was a makeshift bed for everyone to use. Anya tried very hard to get Xander to put their stack of soft carpet well away from everyone else’s, but when Giles cleared his throat and muttered “sound carries” she gave in with little grace. She threw herself down upon her bed for the night and rolled up into her sleeping bag without saying ‘good-night’ to anyone.

Joyce and Dawn, after token resistance on Joyce’s part and her insistence that they could just as easily sleep on the floor with everyone else, were just settling into Spike’s bed when Dawn saw him freeze – clearly listening to something the humans couldn’t hear yet.

With a terse, “stay here” he bolted up the ladder and hastened to the door. He sniffed cautiously, frowning at the human scent coming from outside.

What kind of human walks through a cemetery at night and knocks on the door of a crypt?

He yanked the door open, full game face on as he glared at the tall, slender man just raising his hand to knock again.

“Oh, hello. I was wondering if I might have a word with Ripper?”

Spike blinked at the man’s complete lack of fear and shook off his wrinklies.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, mate. There’s no ‘Ripper’ here.” His ears picked up the faintest sounds behind him and he knew that someone had come up the ladder and was watching.

“Oh, come now, that was a perfectly respectable locator spell that I worked to find out where he was. And I risked my life walking into a Sunnydale cemetery in the middle of the night to get here. Surely, I’m entitled to a better answer than that?”

Before Spike could snarl an invitation that the man walk himself right back out of the cemetery, the watcher’s voice floated across the room.

“What do you want here, Ethan?”

“Ah, there you are, love! Do ask short, blond and cranky here to let me in. it’s quite chilly out here.”

Spike remained stubbornly fixed in front of the open door until he felt Giles come up behind, a cocked crossbow in his hands.

“It’s all right, Spike. Since he’s found us, you may as well bring him inside. It will attract less attention.”

With a curt nod, the vampire stepped aside, shutting the door firmly behind the chaos mage. He used his lighter on a few candles, then stood leaning against the wall, arms folded, while he waited for the man he now realized was the sorcerer who had turned Giles into a Fyarl demon the year before, to state his purpose for being there.

“Found us?” Ethan asked, his eyebrows going up and his eyes running over the vampire appraisingly. “There’s an us?”

“Not us, you git,” Giles growled, refusing to meet Spike’s interested and amused eyes. “I meant that there are more people here. You were not intended to be among them, so state your purpose quickly.”

“Could you perhaps lower that nasty-looking weapon? It is really inhibiting my ability to think clearly.”

“I believe I’ll just keep it handy for a bit. Talk, Ethan.”

“You sound so forceful when you growl like that, Ripper. Quite gives me chills it does...” One look at Giles’ face and the way his finger was tightening on the trigger of the crossbow had Ethan hastening on. “I’m here because, as much as I enjoy chaos, the amount of it that Glorificus is planning to bring into this world is a little too much even for my tastes. Not to mention my physical safety.”

“What do you know about Glory?” Spike and Giles spoke at the same time, but it was the vampire who got right into Ethan’s face, his eyes flickering amber and blue.

“More than you do, I’ll wager,” Ethan said calmly. “I came to offer my assistance to the Slayer...Where is she, by the way?” He looked around pointedly.

“She’ll be around soon,” Spike growled, trying not to sound like he had no idea where she was.

“Yes, quite,” Giles agreed quickly. “Anything you have to tell the Slayer, you can tell me – er- us.”

If Spike was surprised at being included in the Slayer’s gang of helpers, he hid it well, just standing with arms folded while they waited to hear what Ethan had to say.

Chapter Three

“I see,” Ethan said thoughtfully. “So, you have her complete confidence, then?”

He spoke to Giles, but his eyes were on Spike. Before the vampire could answer, Giles spoke for him.

“Buffy has trusted Spike to help her protect her family and friends for some time now. I believe she would want him to have full information.”

“Would she now? How interesting...But I digress,” he added quickly when Giles shook the crossbow. “There are a number of things that one must understand about Glorifcus in order to thwart her plans –“

“Said plans being...?”

“She wants to use the Key to open the door to her own Hell dimension, so that she can go home. However, once opened, the only thing that can close the portal is another turn of the Key – so to speak.”

“An’ the portal leads to a hell dimension.” Spike spoke flatly.

“Yes. One from which assorted unpleasant and deadly creatures and demons will pour once it has been opened. That’s the bad news.”

“There’s good news?” All three men whirled to find Willow emerging from the floor.

“Yes,” Ethan replied, his eyes focused on the young witch from whose body he could feel the power radiating. “There is good news.”

Willow approached unhesitatingly, the confidence in her demeanor telling the mage that she was more than aware of her own growing power. He nodded and gave her a wink before continuing.

“Glory is only in her own, rather indestructible, body a portion of the time. The rest of the time, she is trapped in the body of an ordinary human. If you can find out who he or she is, you can eliminate her while she is vulnerable.” He preened a bit before adding, "There was a city-wide memory spell in place when I arrived. One that caused humans to instantly forget if they happened to watch her change. It was amusing for a while, but it was making me twitchy, so I removed it." He frowned when no one thanked him or appreciated his expertise, but instead continued the interrogation.

“You say she impersonates a human – some other human than the woman that she appears to be?”

“No. Do pay attention, Ripper. I said she IS a human. Her...essence...for lack of a better word, is trapped inside a human body. A human who walks and talks and does whatever normal people do - and then occasionally turns into a female Hellgod. All you need to do is catch her in her human form and--”

“And convince Buffy she has to kill a human,” Spike growled, exchanging looks with Giles and Willow.

“It doesn’t have to be Buffy, who does it,” Giles said quietly.

“Well, willing as I am,” Spike licked his lips, “I can’t bloody do it, can I?”

“No. You can’t.” The watcher’s tone of voice indicated that the conversation was over.

Ethan’s smile was growing wider as he watched the vampire absorb what Giles was actually saying. Spike’s eyes widened and a look of admiration crossed his face before he schooled it back into his usual casual unconcern.

“Why have you chosen to share this information with us, Ethan?” Giles had lowered the crossbow, but not yet disarmed it.

“Again, you weren’t paying attention. If that portal is opened, it will bring Hell on earth. We will all die – probably painfully. I am much too young and good looking to die yet.”

“Why don’t you just kill her, if you know when she’s weak?”

“Ah, violence is not my way, Ripper. Surely you remember that? This is a job for your slayer, or her pet vampire here. Or someone else with a violent streak.” He stared at Giles until the other man looked away.

“Be sure you remember that,” Giles said quietly as he handed the crossbow to Spike. The watcher began walking towards the kitchen and his bottle of scotch. “Would you care for a drink while you explain to me why it is that you are not currently residing inside an army prison?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike and Willow watched the two British men as they carried their glasses to the couch and sat down at opposite ends.

“He makes me feel all...oooky.”

“Can’t say I’d want to have spend a lot of time around him, either. But the watcher seems to know him pretty well, doesn’t he?”

“They’re like old...friends...or something.”

“Yeah.” Spike grinned. “Or something.”

“What? Oh... no. No! You don’t...you think? Giles? Our Giles? And Ethan Rayne?”

“I wonder what old Ripper was like, before he became all tweedy and watcherly?”

Willow shrugged and shook her head. “We saw him when Ethan did the band candy thing – he was kind of a thug.” She scrunched up her face. “Buffy’s mom liked him, though.”

“Rupert and Joyce? The things I’ve missed by not being around all the time.”

Willow snickered and poked him with her elbow. “All you missed out on was being staked by Buffy. If you’d stayed around instead of popping in and out those first couple of years, she’d have staked you for sure.”

“Or I would have killed my third slayer,” he responded, turning to meet her eyes steadily.

“Well, yeah, or that.”

They were quiet for a minute; then Willow asked, “Do you still want to kill Buffy?”

He cocked his head and studied her serious face. “What do you think?”

“I think that my spell that made you two want to be married, didn’t say anything about being in love or playing kissy-face in a big chair all night,” she answered without looking at him. When he didn’t say anything, she turned her head and met his eyes firmly. “Riley is good for her, you know. He’s probably as close to normal as the Slayer is gonna get.”

“Normal’s a bit over-rated, Red.” He stood up and walked towards the closed door. “I wonder where she is? It’s gettin’ late and she’s been gone since midday.”

“I know.” Willow allowed a trace of uncertainty to enter her voice. “You don’t suppose...”

“She should be back by now.”

“Maybe I should do a locator spell? I’ll have to go downstairs and see if Dawn or Joyce might have anything that belongs to Buffy—“

“Don’t bother them,” he said quickly. “I think I’ve got something...”

Willow didn’t say anything, but she raised her eyebrows when Spike took a familiar-looking scarf out of his back pocket. She took it from him, her “I want an answer now” expression never changing even as she wrinkled her nose at the blood stains on it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he growled. “I didn’t steal it. Got bitten pretty bad the other night, and the Slayer wrapped that around my arm until we-I could get back here and fix it up.”

“Buffy used her scarf to bandage your arm?” Willow looked thoughtful. “Exactly how much time have you two been spending together lately?”

Spike shrugged. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. “With the boy scout all normal-human again, and the hell bint’s minions out there every night lookin’ for the bloody key, Slayer needs a bit of help sometimes. That’s all.”

“Uh huh.” Willow didn’t sound convinced, but she took the scarf and walked over to where Giles and Ethan had settled into a glaring contest from either end of the couch. “Um...Giles? I – we – think it might be a good idea to try to find Buffy. Or at least to know where she is. She’s been gone a long time and we’re – I’m – worried about her.”

The watcher shot Spike a hard look, but nodded in agreement.

“A good idea, Willow. I take it that piece of cloth belongs to Buffy?”

“Um...yeah...Spike just happened to have—“

“I’m sure he did,” Giles said wryly. “All right.” He turned to Ethan. “I don’t suppose you have any materials with you that we can use without going downstairs and disturbing the others?”

“I can do better than that,” the mage smiled confidently as he reached into the small bag he’d carried in with him. He pulled out an ordinary-looking mirror and set it carefully on the floor. “We can use this and actually see not only where she is, but what she is doing.”

“Hope to bloody hell she isn’t shaggin’ Capt’n Cardboard,” Spike muttered as Willow and Ethan quickly set up the spell. Willow froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my god! I didn’t think – you don’t suppose? Maybe we shouldn’t—“

With a glare at the vampire, Giles said quickly, “I seriously doubt that Buffy is so irresponsible as to have gone off for a tryst with her boyfriend...” There was just the slightest emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’, but the vampire heard it and glared back. “...when she had such an important mission ahead of her.”

Nodding dubiously, Willow looked at Ethan to see if he was going to begin the spell. To her surprise, he gestured at the mirror and said, “Why don’t you do the honors, darlin’? It isn’t often I get to see such a combination of beauty and power in action.”

Willow colored visibly, even as she preened under Ethan’s praise; completing missing the rolling eyes and disgusted looks on the other two men. She began her chant, and they all leaned towards the mirror, anxious to be the first one to catch a glimpse of the missing slayer. As the mirror took them on a rapid transit across the town to the large, expensive apartment building crowning a hill on the edge of the city, they all tensed. The visualization hurtled through the lobby and up the stairs, floating through a heavy oak door and into the room where a bloody and battered Buffy was hanging from chains.

Spike immediately whirled away from the image – snarling incomprehensible curses in two human languages and one demon. He went immediately to his weapons chest and began tossing out swords, crossbows and knives. Giles and Willow continued to stare into the mirror – the witch’s horrified gasp the only sign that she had noticed the bruises and welts on Buffy’s face and body. Spike was on his way to the door when Giles snapped out of his own stunned stupor to snap, “Where are you going?”

“Where the hell do you think I’m goin’?” Spike snarled back.

“Wait for the rest of us,” the watcher insisted. “You won’t be able to do anything if Glory is in human form.”

“Not waitin’. I’m faster than any of you. I might not be able to stop the bint if she’s human, but I can make a sizable dent in her minions before you lot get there And I might be able to get the Slayer out of those chains.”

Without another word, he was out the door, leaving it swinging behind him. Willow walked over and closed it, while Giles went downstairs. Ethan sat comfortably on the couch, seemingly unperturbed at the idea that the girl he had counted on to save the world was currently imprisoned and immobilized by the very Hellgod she had gone out to slay.

It took only a few minutes for the Scoobies to divide into two groups – Tara agreed to remain in the crypt with Dawn, Joyce and Anya. Although her magic was less powerful than Willow’s, it was sufficient to provide some cloaking protection for the lower half of Spike’s home. Xander and Giles quickly armed themselves with swords and crossbows from Spike’s weapons stash, then stood at the door and looked at the chaos mage lolling on the couch.

“Come on, Ethan,” Giles said curtly. “You know I am not going to leave you here to get up to who knows what kind of mischief. Your skills might be useful to us – in case Willow needs backup,” he hastened to add as the young witch’s eyes narrowed.

With an exaggerated sigh, the mage pushed himself up and lazily strolled to the door which Giles was impatiently holding for him.

“I really think I’ve done my good deed for the decade, Ripper,” he grumbled as he followed them out into the cemetery. “I’ve told you how to kill her and now you know where to find her. I should be leaving town, content in the knowledge that your little gang of do-gooders will take care of the problem.”

“You should be grateful that we aren’t looking too closely into how Glory came to Sunnydale to look for her Key,” Xander said, swinging his axe in a menacing fashion.

Ethan looked at him as though the boy was something he had found on the bottom of his shoe. “Ah yes, Anyanka’s boyfriend. How the mighty have fallen...” Satisfied that he’d put Xander in his place, Ethan turned his attention back to Willow. “You know, darlin’, with your power and my expertise, we could do wonderful things together—”

He was interrupted by Giles’ hand gripping his bicep in a painful, if very familiar fist. “You’ll walk with me,” was all he said as he dragged the reluctant mage into a faster gait. When Ethan opened his mouth, preparatory to commenting on the manhandling, Giles snarled a short, “Shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahead of them, Spike had reached the apartment building and was searching for a way in that didn’t require going through the front entrance – which he could see was guarded by one of Glory’s minions, doing his best to appear fully human as he huddled in his robes near the door. Spike shut his eyes briefly, picturing the images from the mirror and counting the floors to the one with the door behind which Glory was torturing the Slayer. When he was satisfied that he knew where he was going, he put the sword he was carrying on his back and began a stealthy climb up the outside of the building, using his arms and shoulders to haul himself up as he found his favorite boots to be a bit too stiff and clunky to give good footholds.

He paused to rest on the edge of a balcony, only to find an astonished and very naked woman staring at him with wide eyes. Spike gave her his best shy little boy smile and a wink before swinging away and up again. He pressed up against the side of the building, hoping the chimney to which he was clinging would hide him from the curious woman, now on her balcony and staring around for the man she still wasn’t absolutely sure that she had seen outside her fourth story apartment. As soon as he heard her door slide closed, he pulled himself the rest of the way up to the balcony leading to Glory’s apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the lower level of Spike’s crypt, Joyce, Dawn, Tara and Anya huddled together on the bed.

“Do we know what’s going on?” Joyce asked, her fear obvious. “Has Glory found us?” She pulled Dawn close in a protective embrace.

Tara looked uncomfortable, but before she could stammer out an explanation, Anya spoke up in her usual forthright manner.

“Apparently Glory has captured Buffy and the men – and Willow – have gone to rescue her.”

Joyce’s face went white and Dawn gasped as her mother unconsciously tightened her grip.

“Is that true?” The question was addressed to Tara, in spite of Anya’s annoyed look.

“Y...yes. It seems that someone Giles knows—”

“Ethan Rayne” spat Dawn. “You remember, Mom. Band candy? Mini skirts and juvenile delinquent Giles?”

“Oh, ahem, yes. Why yes, I do remember him. So he is here?”

Tara tried again. “Yes, and he was able to help Willow do a spell that not only located Buffy, but showed what was happening to her—”

“What was happening to her?”

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” Tara soothed. “Spike left a long time ago, he’s probably already rescued her.”

“Sure,” Dawn agreed quickly. “Spike and Buffy are probably kicking major Hellgod butt right now.”

“I thought Spike couldn’t hurt people?” Joyce sounded relieved and confused at the same time.

“Glory isn’t human,” Tara explained gently. “But she is very, very strong.”

“Spike and Buffy are stronger,” Dawn said loyally.

“Not by themselves, they aren’t,” Tara said quietly, “but together I’m sure they will be more than enough. Their auras—” She stopped abruptly, casting a quick glance at Joyce and Anya.

“Their auras what?” Dawn refused to let it go. “What can you see when they’re together? Do you see what I see?”

“What do you see?” the smiling witch countered.

“I see two people who were made for each other and are too stubborn to admit it.”

Tara nodded slowly, glancing at Joyce again. “Something like that. They both have interesting auras – such a mixture of light and darkness – but together, they light up the room. I’m surprised everyone can’t see it as easily as I can, really. It’s that bright.”

“Xander will never see it,” Anya muttered. “If he thinks Spike wants Buffy, he’ll probably stake him – even if he does secretly like it that he has another guy to shoot pool with sometimes.”

“I don’t think Spike ‘wants’ Buffy,” Tara said, ducking her head. “I think he’s in love with her.”

To her surprise, Joyce agreed with a quiet sigh. “I suspect that you’re right, Tara. As much as I like Spike and as much as I know that he likes us...” she gestured to herself and Dawn. “...I’m sure that it’s the way he feels about Buffy that makes him so willing to stand up to a Hellgod to protect us.”

All four women nodded their heads, each lost in her own thoughts about what might come of a vampire and a slayer who fell in love. If anyone remembered Angel and the disaster that was Buffy’s relationship with the souled vampire, they didn’t mention it. Anya was barely aware of most of it, Dawn had been too young to be allowed to know much about it, and Joyce’s understanding ended with her gratitude that the vampire had left town. She felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered her own naive belief that without his presence, Buffy could have a normal life with normal relationships. Two more years of watching Buffy juggle a slayer’s duties and life as a college student had given Joyce a much better understanding of exactly how NOT normal her daughter’s life was and always would be.

Chapter Four

Buffy hung from her chains, biting back the moans that wanted to emerge from her battered throat. Her shoulders were screaming from hours of holding the weight of her body, and she was sure that even if she was released, she wouldn’t be able to lift her arms for days. It was blissfully quiet and empty in the room – Glory having stopped in mid-beating to shudder and scream “No!” as she changed before Buffy’s eyes into a good-looking young man. A man that Buffy remembered seeing somewhere recently. While she racked her brain for where she’d seen the very flustered man, he struggled to get out of the much-too-small dress that was barely covering his body.

He had given Buffy an apologetic smile and shrug, before running out of the room in his thong underwear. Since then, no one had come in. Buffy eyed the water pitcher across the room hungrily, trying to moisten her lips with a dry and swollen tongue. Shaking off the thirst and pain, she began to once again, writhe and swing, hoping against hope that the chains would pull out of the high ceiling.

The sound of glass shattering had her head whipping towards the only outside wall, to see Spike reaching in and unlocking the balcony door.

“Hello, cutie,” he said cheerfully as he stepped into the room. “Miss me?”

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled, unable to hide a grateful smile.

“Yeah, well. Made a few stops on the way – had a drink at Willy’s, met a nice bird and—“

“Spike.” Buffy’s voice told him she’d played their little game as long as she wanted to, and he quickly dragged a table over to where she was dangling. Placing her legs on the table, he held her until she got her balance, allowing her arms to drop with a groan of relief. Without thinking, he began to rub her shoulders and arms briskly, until she nodded and indicated that the feeling had come back into them.

“Right then,” he said, jumping down and beginning to search for the key to the manacles holding her bloody wrists. “D’you know where the bint put the key?”

“Over there.” She gestured with her chin. “Right next to the water pitcher which, by the way? Would be really appreciated right now.”

“Stupid git,” he muttered to himself, snatching the water and the key and running back to her. “I’m sorry, pet. Too busy being all ‘knight saves the damsel in distress’ to think about what you needed. Drink up and let’s get you out of here and find some medical help.”

“Medical — That’s it!”

“What’s it?” He handed her the pitcher, smiling in approval when she tipped it up and poured water down her throat. He got sidetracked watching the smooth skin on her throat moving with every swallow she took, and it took her attempt to set the pitcher down to remind him that he held the key to her chains. With an apologetic smile, he quickly unlocked the manacles and helped her sit down.

“What’s it, Slayer?” he repeated, watching carefully as she cradled one bleeding wrist in the other hand. He hadn’t realized that his fangs had dropped and his eyes had shifted until Buffy didn’t answer him right away. He ran his tongue over his lips, felt his fangs, and immediately understood why she wasn’t responding. He glanced up apologetically, expecting her to hit him; instead, she held one wrist out to him in a gesture that could only mean one thing.

“Where I’ve seen that guy before. The one Glory turned into.” Buffy watched carefully as his head lowered to meet her arm, his awed eyes never leaving hers.

“Where’s that, love?” Forcing himself back into human face, he touched his lips to her wounds, licking gently until the blood had stopped and the cuts were pulling shut. Without conversation, she held up the other wrist while she answered him.