Spike drove from one end of Carmel to the other, following the road that skirted the beach.
"Has to be here," he muttered feverishly. They would not have gone far.
"Where in the bloody hell would Giles take her?"
But he found nothing. Desperately he pulled to one side of the road and stared into the far horizon. There had to be... And then he saw the jogger. He seemed to rise out of the ground, but he came from a direction in which there was simply no road. Unless...
With mounting excitement, he leaned forward and studied the boy. He made up his mind.
"What's up that way?" he called to the jogger.
And there was a road, of sorts, almost covered by overhanging trees.
"There? It's a private area, belongs to that old cottage. Let me think, what's it called? Yeah, Sanctuary."
Spike's head snapped up. "What did you say?"
The boy shrugged. "I know, it's a funny name. Takes all kinds."
With shaking hands, Spike fumbled for a cigarette while the jogger watched in disapproval.
"That it does, mate. That it does."
Buffy was feeling better. She regained her appetite. The water was too cold for swimming but she romped on the beach with Xander and Willw, took walks with Giles, played with Abernethy.
Her Watcher felt encouraged. "You've done wonders, Bronwen."
"We haven't even touched the core of her problem, dear heart," the scryer warned.
"Which is?" Giles frowned.
"That she loves someone," Bronwen explained. "Someone who...did this to her. And she won't be fully healed until she deals with her love. And her hate."
The clue had fallen into her hands that morning.
This time, Buffy stared fearlessly into the mirror, although her lips trembled slightly.
"I'm patrolling again," Buffy related, "but I'm alone. I can't find Spike. I can't find anybody."
"Go on," Bronwen encouraged.
Buffy was feeling a decided sense of pique. This was the first time in weeks that Spike had missed patrolling with her. She felt strangely uneasy, as though she were being watched; but she could see nothing.
She did a quick sweep through the Eternal Rest cemetery but found nothing unusual; still the uneasy feeling grew stronger.
"Wiggy," she shrugged. "Maybe I should hit the Bronze and dance my cares away?"
She turned to leave; and spotted a lean figure with bleached hair,clad in a long black leather coat.
Buffy grinned, and hurried toward him. "Spike! There you are, you lazybones! Why..."
He turned in her direction; and her voice died. Because his eyes...his eyes looked like two burned-out holes in a strained white face, and his mouth was a grim line.
She stopped, frowning. "Spike?"
But he didn't answer; instead she heard a voice she thought she'd never hear again, and the hair rose up on the back of her neck.
"Hello, lover."
She started to turn, then felt a crashing blow as she fell into a dark void.
Spike couldn't get his car past a certain point. It was as if the road dead-ended, yet he could see that it continued around a curve up ahead. He decided to approach from the beach, but when he reached the jetty, he found he could proceed no farther.
He could see the cottage, small and gray-shingled; the light in the window looked somehow welcoming. Spike climbed up to the top of the jetty and gazed hungrily.
And as he did, the door opened and she ran onto the beach, a calico cat scampering at her heels.
Shock held him immobile, almost invisible on the black rocks- and she didn't see him.
Spike watched her in silence for a few minutes. She wore cotton pants, rolled above her knees; and a thick sweater that was probably Xander's. She and the cat played a little game, dancing along the shore- then leaping gracefully aside as the incoming tide threatened to drench her bare feet.
He watched her; and everything inside him was one aching mass of pain.
"Buffy..." he whispered her name, he thought, but somehow, above the surf, she heard him.
"Spike?" she approached the jetty slowly, stopping several feet away as if she feared he'd grab her. She stood hugging herself, and the cat, sensing her distress, meowed loudly.
He found his voice. "Invite me in."
Buffy shook her head.
"Look, I won't...hurt you, I swear. I just need to talk to you."
She said nothing for a moment. Then, "But you did."
He'd known it was coming- the accusation.
"Buffy," he tried again. "I never intended for you to get hurt. Never."
Her green eyes flashed. "Liar! You let it happen! You..."
"Buffy, he...is my sire. My SIRE! Do you know what that means, to a vampire? DO YOU?"
"Oh yes." Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. "It means you could laugh with me, and kiss me; and then hand me over to him. It means you could let him rape me and torture me..." her voice choked with tears and she couldn't speak.
"What could I do?" Spike snarled. "What in bloody hell do you think I could do against Angel and Cordelia together? He warned me, said if I tried to interfere he'd...hand you over to his minions, and then kill you when they were finished!"
Buffy met his eyes. "You could have warned me. Instead, you did nothing."
"Buffy!" his eyes were agonized. "listen to me! If you come back, of your own free will, then he...he'd let us be together, sometimes. He wouldn't...he did what he did to you because he was angry that you wouldn't submit to him, that's all. But if you didn't defy him, he'd get over it and.."
Her scornful expression stopped him. "I'll never submit to him. He'll have to kill me first; and what's more, he knows it. Apparently he knows me better than you do. Tell me, is he blaming you for letting me go? Of course that's it, isn't it? That's the reason you want me to come back!"
Spike clenched his jaw. "No! I thought that you still cared for him. He said...that you loved him and you always would."
She turned away, scooping up the cat. "I never cared for Angelus, Spike. For Angel I did, a long time ago. But never Angelus."
She ran, then... tearing up the expanse of sand in the direction of the cottage; and he was helpless to follow.
"Oh pet, no," he groaned. "You don't understand. I never meant...he swore to me he wouldn't hurt you! He told me..." he stopped, swallowing hard.
He stayed on the jetty until just before sunrise.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Buffy sighd, and lifted her eyes from the mirror to meet Bronwen's.
"So, now you know," she said softly. "Angel had left me and gone to L.A., where he began working with Cordelia. Then Spike came back to Sunnydale."
"But it is hard to be alone," Bronwen continued, "and soon you began to have feelings for Spike. As Cordelia did for your Angel."
"Yes. And Angel lost his soul again, and turned Cordelia. And then, they returned to Sunnydale to find me."
Bronwen eyed her flushed face and downcast eyes. "He learned of your love for Spike; and he was furious and decided to punish you both. Am I right?" "Yes," Buffy whispered.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Xander sat on the beach, watching the smooth roll of the waves coming in to shore. It was soothing to feel the touch of mild sunlight on his back; he thought of taking his shirt off but the breeze had a nip and he soon thought again. He enjoyed falling asleep to the sounds of the surf...sometimes they even kept the nightmares at bay enough to prevent him from waking Giles when he sat up, sweating and shaking.
But other times Giles still had to wake him; and he'd find himself moaning her name in a sickening mix of terror and desire.
"Xander?" Willow dropped to the sand beside him. "Are you okay?"
"No," he answered honestly. But I know I will be, as long as Buffy is. What about you, Will?"
"Me?" she asked,surprised. "As long as you and Buffy are hurting, then I am too. That's the way I've always felt."
"Do you ever think about Oz?" he asked unexpectedly.
"Sometimes, I do," she admitted, "but not so much, any more. As long as I have you...and Buffy..."
He nodded his acceptance of the words she didn't say.
"Yeah Will, I know. I mean, I did care about Cordelia once. More than I ever felt for Anya. But I..."
Willow put her hand on his shoulder. "You felt that you should love her, but you didn't. And- Cordelia thought that she shouldn't love you, but she did."
His throat tightened, he couldn't speak. But he covered her hand with his and squeezed gently.
Then they sat together in silence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
He spent the daylight hours in his car, unable to sleep, and finally passed the time driving back to Sunnydale.
When the sun went down he paused to feed; but within ten minutes he'd brought the blood up. He crouched in the alley while his stomach rid itself of its hard-won contents...it had been happening with increasing frequency lately.
Oddly enough animal blood seemed easier on his digestion; he wondered dully if he was sickening for something, or if it was only himself he was sick of.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's almost time, dear heart," Bronwen told Giles. "The children are healed, as much as I can make them."
"I can't thank you enough, Bronwen," Giles began.
"Healed, but not restored," she warned. "They must fight these demons; and it will be hard for your Slayer to fight the one she loved."
"Angel," Giles murmured.
"No," Bronwen said softly. "Spike."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Spike arrived back at the mansion he could hear screams echoing through the night.
Angelus...and one of his minions, he decided. Or perhaps some unlucky twit who'd been carelessly caught out after dark.
Wearily he wondered if he could make it to his room unobserved. Not that he would sleep...he didn't, much; and when he did the nightmares came and made it impossible for him to get any rest. But he had to try.
He entered quietly through the garden, but Cordelia had anticipated him. Tonight she wore a beaded copper dress with a low-cut neckline that emphasized her cleavage.
"Spike, you've missed all the fun," she purred.
Fear lurched through him. "Fun?"
Cordelia smiled. "One of the boys found the former demon tonight. Angel is...dealing with her."
He knew that, by the volume of the screams. But only one thing mattered.
"Did she tell him anything?"
Cordelia tilted her head. "Ooh, Spikey, are you that eager to find your little Slayer? Well, so am I. Because where we find her, we'll find...Xander. And Angel has promised him to me!"
"He's not known for keeping his promises," Spike said, clenching his fists.
She ignored him, closing her eyes in a mockery of bliss. "How I'll enjoy myself with Xander! After I kill Willow, of course."
"What did the demon tell Angel?" Spike snapped, unable to control his anxiety.
Cordelia opened her eyes. "A name," she said precisely. "Bronwen the Scryer."
Abruptly she changed the subject. "Did you know, Spike, that scryers have to be virgins? " She stepped closer to him. "Lucky for me, that isn't true of all visionaries."
The screaming stopped abruptly; a few minutes later Angel walked into the room, tossing a blood-stained hunting knife onto a chair.
"Spike...nice of you to finally join us!"
He strode over to Cordelia and put his big hands on her waist.
"Anya?" Cordelia asked.
Angel shrugged. "I expected a former demon to last longer," he said casually. "But it didn't matter, she didn't know much."
Cordelia put her hands on his shoulders. "Why don't we go to bed?"
"Yes. And Spike will join us," Angel decided.
Spike gritted his teeth...the last thing he needed was a session with his sire and Cordelia.
Angel fixed him with a cold stare. "Well?"
Spike followed them up the stairs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The morning was far advanced by the time he was allowed to leave the Master's chamber. Exhausted, he climbed into the shower and let the hot water wash away the evidence of his shame.
If only, he thought dully, it could cleanse his mind along with his body.
He let himself remember one night not so long ago, when it seemed like all things were possible. The storm that came on suddenly just when they'd encountered a few Partha demons. And the rain poured down on the fresh-turned earth in the graveyard as they'd fought on, getting wetter and wetter, and muddier and muddier. Until finally it was over, and they faced one another laughing.
Then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her and stroking her streaming hair; and finding out for himself how close a vampire could get to heaven...
Spike shut off the water abruptly; but no matter how vigorously he towelled himself dry, his eyes were still wet.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bronwen put the mirror away.
"No!" Buffy protested. "I still don't know...don't know..."
"What?" Bronwen asked gently.
Buffy's eyes dropped. "If I can kill him."
Bronwen touched her hand. "You must find the answer to that in your own heart."
"He didn't help me," the Slayer said wonderingly. "I thought he...cared about me; but ...he..."
"Do you know of the blood link between sire and childe?" asked Bronwen. "It's very nearly invincible."
Buffy shook her head stubbornly. "Twice he broke that link, for Drusilla's sake!" Her large eyes filled with tears. "He did it for Drusilla...but not for me."
Bronwen said no more, her wise eyes filled with sympathy for the little girl who'd come to her in such pain.
That night, Buffy did not touch the tisane. Instead she waited, waited until the household slept; then crept silently down the stairs and onto the beach. There was a strong wind from the sea; she huddled within Xander's sweater but still felt chilled.
He was there again on the jetty; as she had known he would be.
"Invite me," he urged. "Please."
It wasn't like him to beg, but once again she shok her head, grateful for the wards.
"He knows where you are," Spike warned.
Her stomach clenched; and he saw the expression on her face.
"Pet," he began.
"No," she managed."I won't leave. I ran away once before but never again! Anyway- he'd find me, no matter where I went. You know that."
"Then come back!" Spike pleaded. He hesitated, then added, "He promised that you...that I could have you. He's...he would have...given you to me! Don't you understand?"
"Oh, I understand," Buffy told him grimly. "I understand very well. After he'd finished with me, he'd hand me over to you; that is, until the next time he felt like hurting me. Or you."
"He's my sire!" Spike said despairingly.
Buffy nodded. "He's your Master." She turned to leave him. "But he'll never be mine. If I die, then I die; but I'll do my best to take Angelus with me! As for you," she gave him a look of withering contempt, "You'd better go back to the mansion, before you're missed."
"That's it then?" he asked in disbelief.
She kept walking back up the beach.
"Buffy!" He screamed her name to the night sky; it as the tortured cry of the damned, and it called her back to him.
"If I kill him for you," he said deliberately, "then, will you...come back? To me?"
"No," she said flatly. "It's too late."
She started to run.
"No!" he howled. "Not too late! Not...too late..."
Inside the darkened cottage, a Slayer dropped, sobbing, to her knees.
And outside on the rocks, a vampire did the same.
Two days later, Angelus' minions discovered Sanctuary.
"It will be tonight," Bronwen held out the mirror to Buffy.
"I don't understand," the Slayer said, puzzled. "I don't see anything."
"Don't you?" Bronwen asked. "look again."
"There's just my reflection," Buffy said slowly. "As if it was just...an ordinary mirror."
"But dear heart," Bronwen said in surprise, "what else would it be?"
They came that night. Angelus' minions, laughing and boasting about the end of a Slayer- until they found the wards could not be breached.
Then they howled with rage, until the rising sun forced them away.
On the following night, he came alone. He stood where Spike had been, calling Buffy's name.
Defiantly, she went to meet him.
"Hello, lover," he said calmly. "You've cost me quite a lot of trouble, tracking you down. But I'm feeling generous. Come to me now; and I'll let Giles and Willow go."
"And Xander?"
"No. He's already been promised. To my queen."
"Cordelia," Buffy nodded.
He cocked his head. "Cordelia, for now. But, I might be persuaded to make a change, lover. Think about that."
Buffy was unable to repress a shudder.
Angelus laughed. "Dear little Buffy, you will come back. Sooner or later, willing or not. And the longer you make me wait, the angrier I will be! Better think about that."
The menace in his voice was clear; with a swift gesture he flung a bundle at her feet. Then he was gone, disappearing soundlessly into the night.
Buffy scooped up the bundle; and her face went white as she realized what she held.
It was Spike's leather duster.
And- the lining was streaked with blood.
Buffy waited until the cottage was dark and quiet, then stole silently down the stairs.
There was the slightest click as the front door closed behind her; she held her breath, but heard no movement.
She did not see Abernethy, dozing in his favorite corner by the fire, open one green eye...
She hurried in the direction of the main road. She never heard the sound of someone behind her. There was a sharp blow, and Buffy slid into unconsciousness.
Buffy came to slowly; there was a roughness of plaster behind her, and she felt chilled to the bone. She opened her eyes slowly...and found herself staring into Angelus' gloating face.
"Hello, lover," he smirked.
Buffy tried to lift her hand to her aching head, only to find that they were chained behind her. Her blurred vision cleared; and she saw that she was back in the mansion, naked except for her chains.
Across the room sat Cordelia, smiling at her.
"Hi Buffy," she said cheerfully, "We figured you''d come if you thought Spike was in danger. You were always stupid like that."
Buffy refused to respond. They had her; and she knew she could expect no mercy- why give them the satisfaction of hearing her beg?
Angelus snapped his fingers. "Knew there was something I forgot. Spike!" Still grinning, he left the room.
Buffy decided to ignore Cordelia; but the vampiress wuld have none of it. She got to her feet and strolled towards the Slayer.
"We're going to have fun, Buffy! Well, not you...but the rest of us! As soon as Spike gives up his claim."
"His claim?" Buffy could have bitten her tongue out.
Cordelia studied her. "Why, yes. Didn't you know about that? When Angel brought you here, that other time, Spike got him to promise that Angel would hand you over to Spike once you'd had your punishment. See, Angel went to Spike the first thing when we came back to Sunnydale; and it wasn't easy to teach him who the Master here was! But even so, Spike only went along with Angel's plans after Angel promised he wouldn't hurt you...much. And afterwards, you would belong to Spike."
"He went along," Buffy repeated dully.
"He had to," Cordelia said impatiently. "Angel swore that, if he didn't, you'd be given to the minions to play with!"
Despite herself, Buffy went white. So that was what Spike had meant, when he'd said Angel had promised they'd be together.
Angel strode into the room, followed by two of his creatures, dragging Spike.
Buffy couldn't help but cry out at the sight of him; and Angelus' eyes crinkled with satisfaction.
Spike was as naked as she was herself; but his skin was criss-crossed with welts and cuts, some so deep that his flesh hung in strips.
He raised his head and saw her. "Buffy," he croaked, through his dry, cracked lips.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Crying, lover?" Angelus mocked. "Well, don't bother. You'll soon have enough to cry about on your own account! This is what happens..." he kicked Spike hard in the ribs..."to a rebellious childe who tries to kill his sire!"
Buffy caught her breath. Spike hadn't been lying when he'd said he would kill Angelus for her...
"Release your claim," Angelus demanded. He kicked Spike again; and the blond vampire grunted, but shook his head.
Angelus' face darkened. Deliberately he began to unbutton his shirt. "You know what comes next, Spike," he said coldly. "Will it be her...or you?"
Spike managed to pick his head up. "Me."
For the next hour, Buffy witnessed the most brutal assault, both physical and sexual, she had ever seen. In the end she was crying and shaking; but Spike never wavered. Every time Angelus would pause, he would say "no" loud and clear. Even after he could no longer speak, he managed to shake his head.
Buffy tried to close her eyes; but she could still hear the screams.
Finally she could bear it no longer. "Stop it, please! I'll do whatever you want, just..stop it!"
Angelus' face lit with triumph. "Hear that, Spike? The little bitch is willing! Now, surrender your claim."
Spike's eyes could hardly focus; but he moved his lips. "No."
Angelus reached for the leather whip; but Cordelia forestalled him. 'You'll kill him; and if he dies without giving up the claim, you can't touch her. Let me try."
She stepped daintily across to a small round table; and carefully pulled on a pair of gloves. Then she picked up a square bottle.
Grinning like a crazed clown, she let a few drops trickle onto Spike's back.
He screamed and screamed as the holy water sizzled his flesh.
Buffy bit her lips until she tasted blood, wishing desperately that the sheer pain would render him unconscious.
But Cordelia knew what she was doing; she paused, waiting. "Well?"
Stubbornly he shook his head.
"I've had enough of this!" Angelus snarled. "Surrender the claim, Spike- or I'll kill you!"
"Go ahead," hissed Spike. "It's the only way."
Angelus took a single step forward.
The long French window shattered.
The small brown missile began to emit a cloud of thick noxious fumes.
"What...." Cordelia stared. "Tear gas? But, vampires don't need to breathe."
One of the minions began to choke. "It's ...garlic!"
Another cannister was lobbed through the window, as chaos erupted.
Angelus spun around and started for Buffy; but as he passed Spike's broken body, the blond vampire shot one hand out and closed it around his sire's ankle. Angelus fell heavily, cursing loudly.
Then Giles was somehow there; he used his wirecutters and Buffy was free.
"Spike!" she cried aloud, rushing to him.
Angelus loomed out of the cloud of fumes. "He's dead, Buffy. Just like you'll be."
He lunged for her, strong hands closing around her throat. She fought him frantically; she must not, would not black out....