Dawn was sitting at the kitchen counter finishing a bowl of cereal.

“Dawny, should you be eating this late? It’s almost ten.”

“Don't see why not. It’s not like it’s going to spoil my breakfast.”

“You didn’t get enough at supper? You didn’t like it?”

“It was fine, Willow. Not my favorite, but it was okay.”

“But I thought you liked . . . .”

“It was FINE. I just wasn’t that hungry. I ate a snack when I got home from school, and I guess I just ate too much and wasn’t that hungry at supper.”

“Well, okay then. You weren’t planning on waiting up for us, were you? ‘Cause it’ll probably be pretty late when we get in.”

“Buffy’s first patrol since her vampification. You think she’s nervous?”

“I don't see why she should be. It’ll be just the same as it always was, except for her extra strength, and extra speed, and extra keen hearing, and extra sharp night vision, and extra sensitive sense of smell. Other than that, just the same as always.”

“You don't think she’ll have any problem staking vamps, do you? I mean, it’s kind of like they’re her, I don't know, undead brothers and sisters?”

“I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”

They were silent for a few moments.

“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Willow answered Dawn’s unasked question.

“Willow, you’re the most powerful witch in the world, right?”

“Well, I don't know about that.”

“Everyone says you are - Buffy, Xander, Giles.”

“So what’s you point?”

“Since you are so powerful, why can’t you unvampify Buffy? I mean, it can’t be as hard as putting someone’s soul back into their body, or brain, or wherever it goes.”

Willow gave Dawn a small, patient smile.

“I thought I explained that once before. But since it’s obvious you must have forgotten, I’ll go over it one more time. Just because I have all this power doesn't mean a thing if I don't know how to use it. When I re-ensouled Angel, it was because Miss Calendar had already done all the work. She did the research, translated the ancient writings, put everything into the proper context, did everything necessary to make sure the spell was correct. And if Angel hadn’t . . . .”

Willow took a breath.

“If Angelus hadn’t killed her, she probably would have done the spell, not me. And when I put Buffy’s soul back in, I based it on what she had done. But I have absolutely no idea of even how to begin to turn a vampire back into a human. There are no texts or manuscripts that do more than just speculate on it. To my knowledge no one’s even come close to figuring it out.”

“Figuring what out?” Buffy asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“How to turn a vamp back into a human.” Dawn answered.

“Oh. Well, if you do, you be sure to let me know.”

“You about ready to go?” Willow asked, uncomfortable talking about it in front of Buffy, and not wanting to continue.

“Ready as I can be. Dawn, make sure you’re in bed by eleven. You have school tomorrow.”

“Willow already told me. You think you’ll be out late?”

“There’s no telling. But we’ll be quiet when we get back so we won’t wake you up. And no, you can’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No, but you were thinking it.”

“Want to call it a night?” Willow asked.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders. “Nah, not for a while. I was hoping we’d run across a nest or two. You know, something to give me a challenge. It’s just too easy taking them out one or two at a time.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky and some big ol’ demon will show up, all fangy and horny and . . . I mean HORNED ‘horny’ not HORNY ‘horny.’ ”

Buffy smiled. “I know what you mean.”

She shrugged again.

“Maybe.”

They walked on, heading toward the third cemetery in as many hours. Buffy had staked or ripped the heads off six vampires - two in the first, four in the second.

Just after they entered the graveyard, Willow sensed Buffy tensing up, then she relaxed.

“Spike’s back.” She said in a low voice.

Willow looked around but couldn’t see anything.

“Still forty feet away. Off to your left.”

They waited a half minute and Spike walked into the wan light shining from a nearby street light.

“Hello, girls. Out for a walk? Me too.”

“Spike! Where have you been the past couple of weeks? We thought you’d been staked or something.” Willow was unusually excited to see him.

“Had to get away for a while. Things were getting too boring here; nothing new, no excitement. I hate it when the Hellmouth is sleeping.”

As he was finishing his explanation, Spike got a curious look on his face. Then, as he looked hard at Buffy, she said, “Come on, Willow. Let’s go on home.”

“Buffy?” Spike said as she turned away from him.

“Buffy!” He called out again as she ignored him. Something wasn’t right.

Spike reached out and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. And as he did, her right hand shot out, her palm hitting him squarely in the chest, knocking him twenty feet backward through the air to land hard against the corner of a mausoleum wall.

Then shaking her head in regret, she went over to him and helped him to his feet.

“Sorry about that.” She apologized. “Still not used to the new and improved reflexes and extra strength.”

Spike grabbed her by her shoulders and looked hard into her eyes.

“You’re . . . you’re a VAMPIRE! With a SOUL!” he shouted out, shock and astonishment and disbelief very much evident in his voice.

“Could you yell any louder? I don't think Giles heard you over in England.”

“We kind of want to keep it a secret, if you know what I mean.” Willow explained.

“Oh. Sure. Didn’t mean to yell. I just . . . A vampire! But how, when, WHO?”

“She won’t say.” Willow answered as they hurried to keep up with Buffy, who was heading back to Rovello Drive.

When they got home, they quietly went into the kitchen, not wanting to wake up Dawn. There was a note on the counter for Buffy to call Giles as soon as possible.

Buffy dialed the number.

“Giles. Hi, it’s Buffy. You wanted me to call you?”

“Buffy, it’s good to hear your voice. How … how are you doing? Coping all right?”

“Sure. It’s still hard sometimes, not ripping the throats out of the people I love, but other than that, I’m good. So how are things with you?”

“I do hope you’re joking about the ripping out of the throats.”

“No, Giles, I’m really not. It’s an everyday struggle not to. Of course, the dreams aren’t helping any.”

“Dreams? What dreams?”

“The ones where I’m sucking the life-blood out of everyone I know. They’re scary, Giles, and they’re so real they seem like memories, or visions -- predictions of things to come.”

“They’re just dreams, Buffy, that’s all.”

“But what if they’re not JUST dreams? What if they’re prophesies, or . . . .”

“Buffy, surely by now you know that prophetic dreams can be misinterpreted, or they can be a warning. If you know what is to come, you can make sure it doesn't happen. You can be somewhere else, or be with someone else. You see what I’m driving at?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Buffy agreed, but still not entirely convinced. “But enough about me, what was it you wanted?”

“I wanted to warn you about letting the knowledge of your -- condition, get out. If the Council ever found out about it, you would become more of a target than Faith ever was. A vampire with Slayer abilities wouldn’t be tolerated for an instant! Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I get you. I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re probably right. I’ll do what I can to keep a low profile.”

“Buffy, I don't think you realize the seriousness of this. The Council will send as many operatives as they feel is necessary, dozens, or more. You won’t know who they are, where they are, and they will stop at nothing to get to you. And they will use whatever methods they have to, will go after anyone they think will lead them to you - Dawn, Xander, Willow . . . .”

“I think Willow can take care of herself.”

“Unless they take her by surprise. A tranquilizer dart will put her down in an instant, no matter how powerful a witch she is. I’m telling you - no one you know will be safe!”

“Including you, I suppose.”

“Yes, of course, including me. I would most likely be their first target.”

“You know, it seems like you’re convinced they already know about me.”

“I’m just trying to make you take precautions, that’s all. Maybe you can get Willow to do some kind of protection spell around your house.”

“Against what - homicidal Englishmen?”

“How can you joke about something this serious?

“I understand what you’re saying, Giles. And I agree with you, it could be bad. I’ll be careful. Just let me know as soon as you hear anything, okay? Okay. So -- ‘bye.”

“I - I’ve had some dreams.” She stammered.

“So we heard.” Willow answered. She had a concerned and slightly fearful look on her face.

“Giles thinks they’re just that, dreams. A warning to myself, maybe. No kind of prophesy or anything.”

“You mentioned homicidal Englishmen.” Spike said. “Care to tell her the rest of it?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s worried that if the Council finds out I’ve been vamped they won’t rest until I’m dead, and they would probably come after any of you guys to get to me. He thought that maybe if you could put a protection spell around the house it might help, somehow.”

“And . . . ?” Spike prodded her.

“And what?”

“And there could be dozens of them. And they could be anywhere, and they could be anybody.”

“How do you . . .? Oh, yeah - vamp hearing.”

“Does he think they’re on their way here?” Willow was becoming really worried.

“Oh no. He just wants me to be extra careful. But I don't know what else I can do different. If I don't patrol, it will seem suspicious. So what do I do that’s different?”

“You might tone down the super speed and super strength.” Willow suggested. “Other than that, I can’t think of anything else. And no one knows about you except the four -- six of us, and Angel of course. And since none of us are going to say anything, things should be okay.”

Willow looked at Buffy for conformation and assurance, but Buffy wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Buffy? Things are going to be okay, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure, I . . . .”

“I get the feeling Buffy’s not telling us everything.” Spike said. “Care to let us in on your little secret?”

“There MAY be someone else who knows, but I can’t be sure.”

“Who?” Willow and Spike said together.

“Maybe, just possibly, the vampire who sired me.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Buffy shook her head.

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe you should start at the beginning.” Spike told her. “And tell us everything.”

“Yeah, I think maybe you should.” Dawn said. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Dawn! What are you doing up?” Buffy demanded.

“Don’t change the subject, Buffy. We want to know who did this to you, and under the circumstances, I think we deserve to know.”

“How long have you been listening?”

“God! Do you really think I don't know what goes on in this house? How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a kid anymore?”

“Buffy,” Willow interrupted, “Why don't you just tell us what happened?”

“Not much to tell. I was patrolling as usual when I ran across this vamp feeding on some poor homeless guy. Wasn’t much of a fight, at first, but somehow I lost my balance jumping off a headstone. I guess it was covered with slime or something. Anyway I landed flat on my back and it kind of knocked some of the breath out of me. And before I could recover he was on top of me. Man, this guy was FAST, and his fangs were bared, and he was biting into my neck. Well, his hand was near my face, so I bit HIM, and I wouldn't let go. And I guess I must have gotten enough of his blood into me to turn me. Obviously, I passed out because the next thing I knew I was waking up all alone, and starving for blood.”

“What did it taste like - the vampire blood?” Dawn asked.

“Kind of bitter, like it was spoiled or . . . .”

“Unpure.” Spike finished for her.

“Yeah, unclean.”

“So what about the vamp who bit you, you don't know where he went?” Willow continued.

“No. I never saw him after that. At first I thought maybe I might have killed him but I couldn’t smell any vamp dust anywhere. So I just came home. And you guys know the rest.”

“Angel went to Willy’s to see if there was any rumors about you, but no one knew anything.”

“Oh, right!” Spike said. “Like they’re really going to tell HIM anything.”

“Then someone has to go back there to find out for sure.” Buffy said, looking directly at Spike.

“Hate to break it to you, Love, but I’m probably hated even more than your ex. I’d get even less information than he would, and maybe get a beating for my trouble.”

“You might if you went in stinking of human blood. They might think you were back to your old ways.”

“Hate to break it to you, Pet, but I’ve been off the human stuff for over a year. Don't know if I want to get the taste . . . .”

“Then you’ll just have to get back on it.” Buffy retorted.

“Buffy!” Willow said. “You can’t ask him to do that. It’d be like asking an alcoholic to take a drink. Or a drug addict . . . .”

“We don't have a choice here, Willow. It certainly wouldn't do any good if I went storming in there looking for information. He’s the only one who can do it. Our lives, YOU’RE life, may depend on it.”

“I thought you told Giles I could take care of myself.”

“Can you stop a trank dart, or a bullet, without knowing it’s coming? Do you want to risk Dawn’s life, or Xander’s?”

Willow looked at Spike with a confused look on her face. “I guess it’s up to you.”

“Fine! I’ll do it. But it’ll have to be blood from someone I don't know. I’d rather not know how any of you taste.”

“And none of that animal crapola. I want the real stuff.”

The bartender leaned in toward Spike, sniffing.

“You smell of human blood.”

“Well, yeah, I AM a vampire.”

“Who can’t feed on humans. Everyone knows that.”

“Well, I’ve changed. The old Spike is back, and he’s thirsty, for the taste of human blood.”

“You got money?”

Spike put a twenty dollar bill on the counter and the bartender brought out the blood, still in the plastic pouch with Blood Bank markings on it.

As the bartender poured a large glass of the red liquid, it was all Spike could do to control the urge to grab it up and down it in one large gulp. He slowly raised the glass to his nose, swirling the blood slightly, smelling the delicious nectar. He then put it to his lips and took a mouthful of it, swishing it, trying to mask the taste of their blood, not wanting to remember what they all tasted like.

~~~~~

Other than stealing it, no one knew where to get any blood for Spike’s cover story. Buffy called Xander and Anya to get them to come over. Both protested, since it was close to 3 a.m., but Buffy convinced them she wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t urgent.

The only alternative was to volunteer their own blood. Dawn got out a measuring cup and each donated an ounce, hoping a half cup would be enough. Buffy knew her blood would only taint the mixture and it might be detected.

“Tried drinking a vamp one time.” Spike told them. “Didn’t like it, tasted like battery acid.”

“And when was the last time you drank battery acid?” Dawn asked sarcastically.

“Just making a point here, that’s all, no need to get shirty. Like Buffy said - it was bitter.”

“Here you go.” Willow handed him the cup.

Spike gave them a weak smile and put the cup to his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he smelled anything so wonderful. Then he threw it down in one swallow, and faking nonchalance said, “Wasn’t as good as I remember. I guess it’s not such a big deal after all.”

But it was a big deal, and he could separate out each essence; he knew which fraction belonged to which human, how each would taste if he were to feed on them.

~~~~~

Spike finished the glass and ordered another. Willow was right, it was exactly like giving an alcoholic a drink.

After half of the third was gone, Spike tried innocent conversation.

“Been gone a few weeks, anything going on? Any excitement?”

“Angel was here a while ago. Went to see the Slayer, then left town. Real mystery.”

“And just how is the bitch? Still making the rounds, killing our kind?”

“Same as always. Never could understand why she never comes in here, though. You’d think this would be a primary target.”

“Slayer’s not real bright. I killed a couple of them in my time - real challenges; gave me a good fight, both of them. And clever, too. Made it a lot more fun when I finally exterminated them.”

“So, what does Slayer blood taste like?”

“Like the Nectar of the Gods, and an unbelievable aphrodisiac! Couldn’t get enough of Dru for weeks. Not that she complained, mind you.”

“So why haven’t you taken out Buffy?”

“Because I already have,” a voice from behind Spike said.

“Excuse me?” Spike said as he turned on the barstool. He was looking a rather average vampire; not particularly big or muscular. Spike couldn’t see someone like him taking out a Slayer.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The bartender said.

“You heard me, I offed the Slayer just a week ago.”

“Hate to break it to you, MATE, but the Slayer’s alive and well. Had a go ‘round with her just two nights ago, right after I hit town.” Spike disputed him.

“Then it wasn’t the real Slayer, ‘cause I left her dead on the ground.”

“You’re wrong,” another vamp piped up. “I barely got away from her three nights ago.”

“If she was really the Slayer you wouldn’t have gotten away from her at all.”

“So if the real one is dead, then who were we fighting?”

“Did she have her pals with her?”

“I think she did.”

“Then it was probably that witch friend of hers pulling a Glamour on you.”

There was silence all around.

“You’re wrong, mate.” Spike said. “I’ve fought her too many times not to know the real Slayer, and she was alone!”

“Don't care what you say, I know  I - killed - the - Slayer.”

“So how do you know about her friends, and the witch?” asked the bartender.

“Because I knew them back in high school, before I was turned. I had a small crush on Willow and kept an eye on her even after she and Buffy enrolled in the college. I killed Buffy and Willow’s trying to make us all think she’s still alive.”

There was more silence. His story was beginning to make a little sense.

“Then the only thing to do is go over to Buffy’s and call her out.” Spike declared. “And then run like hell when she comes after us.”

“SLAYER!” Spike yelled out. “SLAYER! Show yourself!”

Standing next to Spike was the vamp who claimed he killed Buffy. Behind them were several vampires and demons, all waiting to see if the Slayer was dead or alive.

Willow looked out of the living room window to see what the ruckus was all about.

“There’s the witch!” One of the vamps said.

Then Buffy opened the front door.

“And the Slayer!” Spike said in triumph.

“But not together.” Said the one who declared he’d killed her.

Buffy walked out on the front porch.

“I assume you all have a death wish.” She said.

“Hey, Buffy, remember me?”

Buffy peered into the gloom trying to make out who spoke.

“Allen Cox? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I killed you, remember?”

“No, don't think I remember anything like that. The last time I saw you was a few days before graduation.”

“You’re not Buffy! You’re Willow, that freaky witch!” Allen yelled.

“Someone mention my name?” Willow asked as she walked out to stand next to Buffy.

Spike looked at Allen as if expecting some kind of explanation.

“No, something’s not right. I killed you! I know I did. You landed flat on your back and I was on you like white on rice, and I sucked you dry . . . And you bit me! You bit my finger off, and it HURT! That’s it! It has to be! You’re not dead, you’re UNDEAD!”

Buffy shook her head with a small pitiful laugh.

“Now, before I come down there and start being the Slayer, how about all of you getting the HELL OFF MY LAWN!” As she spoke her words got harder as she got “angrier.”

“I’m outta here,” Spike said as he began to back away. “No trouble from me.”

Within seconds the lawn had cleared except for Spike and Allen.

“This isn’t over yet, Slayer. You’re one of us, I can smell the inhumanity in you, and the stench of a soul. You’re as freaky as she is.” He indicated Willow. Then he turned to go.

“Spike?”

Spike gave Buffy one last look, as if to say, “I think we did it. We fooled them.”

“Wasn’t he some kind of nerd or geek or something?” Willow asked.

“Yeah.” Buffy answered. “I think he was in the Chess Club or Math Club or one of those brainy organizations. Seems like he was pretty smart.”

“Smart enough to figure it out.” Dawn added. “Think the rest of ‘em will believe him?”

“Hard to say. Maybe Spike can convince them Allen doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

“You really bit off his finger?”

 “I don't remember that. All I know is I was biting as hard as I could. I guess I was biting his finger.”

 “And when it came off some of his blood got in your mouth?”

 “Probably so.”

 “Then what happened to the finger? Did it turn to dust?”

 Buffy shrugged. “I suppose. If it did then the dust must have mixed with his blood since I don't remember dust in my mouth.”

 “Kind of gross if you really think about it.”

 Buffy just smiled. 

No one said anything for a while.

 “Spike really came through for us, huh?” Dawn finally said.

 “Yes, he did.” Buffy answered.

 “Good old Spike.” Dawn mused. “Always there when you need him . . . Yep. Always there, ready to . . . .”

“Okay, what is it?” Buffy grilled her.

“What?”

“Don't ‘What?’ me. You’ve got that look. There’s something you want to say, so let’s hear it.”

“Well, I was just wondering, I mean, Spike’s a vampire, and now you’re a vampire, and I was just curious if maybe you two might, you know, hook up.”

“NO! No way! Way, way, no way! Spike’s just a friend, sort of. And I admit I have some … feelings for him, but no. No way.”

“Sure a lot of ‘no ways’ in that sentence.” Willow said with a grin. “Methinks Buffy doth protest too much.”

“No. Way.” Buffy pointedly mouthed to them, then went back into the kitchen where a cup of hot pig’s blood spiked with Tabasco sauce was in the microwave oven waiting for her.

“Why are you taking her side?”

“And why do you keep insisting she’s a vampire with a soul? Angel is the only souled vamp there is, in the whole world!”

Allen shook his head in disagreement.

“I know what I smelled. She IS a vampire, and she HAS a soul!”

Spike was getting angry.

“Listen, mate I’ve been around for more than two hundred years,” he exaggerated, “and if she was a souled vamp I’d be the first to know it. How long have you been undead? A year? Two?”

“I know what I know. And if the rest of you want to hide your heads in the sand, so be it.”

“Okay.” The bartender said. “Say she is a vamp, and say she has a soul. So what? She still stakes vampires and kills demons whenever she out haunting the cemeteries. So what’s the difference?”

“The difference is she has our strength and speed on top of all her Slayer powers. She could wipe us all out before we even had a chance to realize what was happening! THAT’s what the difference is!”

No one spoke, they were all thinking about it; considering what would happen if Allen was right. Sunnydale could be entirely demon and vampire free within weeks if not sooner.

“So why hasn’t she done it then?” Spike argued back. “You’re don't know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, you and this Slayer . . . everyone says you two have some kind of thing between you. I’m starting to think maybe they’re right.”

“Oh, we have a thing all right. It’s called out-and-out hatred and loathing.”

“You say that, but it sure doesn't seem like it from where I stand.”

“Then maybe you should stand a little closer the next time the Slayer is pointing her stake in your direction; give us all a bit of peace and quiet.”

“I don't know, Spike.” The bartender said. “We’ve all been curious about you and the Slayer. It seems like you two have been just a little too chummy sometimes. You’ve been seen you killing our kind right along beside her.”

“Like I had a choice? Kill or be killed, mate. It’s simple survival.”

But his argument was falling on deaf ears as more of them chimed in with their own observations.

As the crowd got rowdier, Allen slowly backed away, hoping to finish off unattended drinks or steal change left on the tables as they all gathered at the bar around Spike.

Spike forced his way through them in time to see Allen leaving with three strangers, and it didn’t look like he was going voluntarily.

“Hey!” Spike shouted out. “Did anyone see that? He’s being kidnapped!”

But no one was listening, they were now far too angry. And as Spike started to run after the four of them, he found his way barred by two over-sized demons, and suddenly he was fighting for his life.

“I thought he would have been back by now.”

“He’ll be all right. Probably just making sure no one believes Allen.”

Buffy and Willow were in the living room for a change. Dawn was in the stuffed chair and had dozed off.

“Willow,” Buffy started to say, then hesitated.

“What?”

“You don't really think that Spike and I would . . . could . . . It’s just that . . . .”

“Buffy, if it happens, it happens. No one will think anything one way or another. It’s - a natural pairing, if you think about it. Of course, there’s always Angel.  I know you still have feelings for him.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I’m not sure. It sounded like a thump or something, outside.”

Buffy got up from the couch and went to the door. When she opened it she found a badly beaten and bloody Spike lying there.

She carried him into the kitchen and laid him on the counter. As she cleaned off the blood, Spike managed to tell them about Allen inciting the crowd, with help from the bartender, against him.

“But I do know I saw him leaving with three other men, or vamps, I’m not sure. At the time I thought he was being forced, but now I don't know. Maybe I just imagined it.”

“Well, we’ll worry about that later. Right now you need some R&R. Willow, if you’ll turn down the covers on my bed, I’ll carry him upstairs.

Willow hurried to comply.

Buffy spent almost the entire day with Spike, giving him blood whenever he was awake, to build his strength, and changing his bandages every few hours.

Willow went to the grocery store and took care of the cooking and cleaning, Dawn went to school, Xander went to work, and Anya went back to her apartment and slept the day away.

Buffy managed to persuade Xander and Anya to stay at her house for the next few nights. She hated to admit it, but Giles’ warning had spooked her more than she realized. In the meantime, she patrolled, hoping to dispel any suspicions about her.

Three nights later she and Willow were watching TV a little after midnight when they heard thunder.

“Was it supposed to rain tonight?” Willow asked.

“Don't think so. If that’s thunder, it sure sounds strange.”

Buffy went out on the front porch, listening. Suddenly she got a knot in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t thunder. The sound they were hearing were helicopters, a half dozen of them, and they were surrounding the house.

Buffy went back inside, carefully closing and locking the door behind her.

“Willow,” she said, with a bit of a tremble in her voice, “Do you remember the barrier you put up around that gas station when the Knights of Byzantium were after us?”

“Yeah.”

“How long will it take you to put up another one?”

To Be Continued