Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Buffy Fanfiction > Balance

Balance
by Shaddyr

SPOILERS: anything up to S7.11 (Showtime) One teeny tiny spoiler for Angel S4.9 (Long Day's Journey)
SUMMARY: Cryptic hints suck.
PAIRINGS: S/B
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Bloody Awful Sandlot Archive. Anyone else, please ask.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never were. I'm very jealous of Joss, and I just want to play in his sandbox for a while. Don't bother to sue: all you'll get is stale Doritos and some belly button lint.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.

Casa de Summers had, over the course of a few short days, become a very lively place. Voices chattered non-stop, a shriek of laughter here, a whine of complaint there; foot steps pounded up and down the stairs. The tell tale sounds of teenage girls filled the house at all hours of the day and night. And for the first time since the potential slayers had begun to gather there, a sense of hope permeated the atmosphere. Buffy had beaten the Turak Han.

In the kitchen, three people were gripped by guilt and despair.

"This is all our fault."

Willow and Xander stood staring at each other as Anya's words ripped away what little comfort they had gained from the night's victory.

"I don't understand," Xander said slowly, grappling with the enormity of what she had just told them. "This giant eyeball thing said that bringing Buffy back is what brought the First Evil down on us all?"

"Not in so many words." Anya leaned against the island, arms wrapped around her middle as she stared at the floor. "It said the disturbance was caused by the slayer. And that it was recent." She looked up at him, then turned her gaze to Willow. "Well, if being resurrected wasn't a big disturbance in the line of the Chosen One, I don't know what is."

Willow's eyes were filled with anguish and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh, God..." A shaky whisper escaped her. "This is all my fault. It was my idea to do the spell. It's all my fault..."

Xander stepped up in front of Willow and took her in his arms. "Hey, Will. It was all of us. You didn't force anyone. We all wanted her back." He pulled back a little and put his hand under her chin to make her look into his eyes. "And how could you know? It's not your fault."

"Yes. It is," came the voice of disagreement from behind him.

Xander's head snapped around, and he glared at Anya, Willow still encircled by his arms. "Ahn," he began warningly.

"Don't 'Ahn' me, Xander. Patting her on the back is not going to make it better. It is her fault. And mine. And yours. And Tara's. It's all our faults. But we don't have time to feel bad about it. We've got to figure out a way to fix this."

Willow pulled out of Xander's embrace, squared her shoulders and wiped her eyes. "She's right, Xander. We need to focus on beating the First Evil."

Anya shook her head. "It can't be beaten. Or destroyed. It's going to be here long after we are all dust."

"Well, what are we supposed to do then?" Xander threw his up in the air in frustration. "Sit around and wait for it to find an even bigger and badder minion to kick the crap out of Buffy? Invite the harbingers in for tea?"

Willow touched his arm, and he looked down at her. "If it's our fault that the mystical forces around the line of the Chosen have become vulnerable, then we need to figure out what we can do to stabilize them, to make them strong again."

Xander slumped forward, eyes downcast. "How, Willow? How do we do that?"

"I don't know."



**



Through a miasma of pain and hunger, Spike watched Buffy as she cleaned and dressed his wounds. The soft light of the bedside lamp seemed to make her face glow, and he marveled at every expression; how she scowled as she realized exactly how deep the symbols had been carved into his flesh, the way she pursed her lips when he tried not to flinch, her look of satisfaction when she was done. She finally looked into his eyes, smiling gently under his scrutiny.

His brow furrowed as he realized that she had a serious cut across her left cheek. Without even thinking, he brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't start under his touch, and made no move to pull away from him.

"Had a bit of a run in with the big nasty, did you?" His arm shook with exhaustion and he let his hand dropped away from her face.

She nodded. "Yeah. I didn't have a handy organ to drop on it, so I tried using a load of metal pipes. I think it was a little pissed off about that." She shrugged. "But he let anger get the best of him and he lost his head."

Spike started to chuckle, then winced. "I don't know which is more painful - that pun, or laughing. I think it's a tie."

She made a face at him, then smiled once more. "You need to get some rest. But first, something to eat." She twisted around and grabbed the mug of blood she'd brought up with her off the nightstand, then turned back to him. "C'mon, scootch over a bit."

"Scootch? I'll have you know that vampires don't 'scootch'. We move with dangerous, sinuous grace."

"Spike!"

"Scootching."

She helped him sit, propping him up with a few pillows, and settled in beside him with the mug, holding the straw still with a finger. As he leaned in to drink, a quirky smile played across her lips. He gave her a questioning look.

"I'm just thinking about the last time I fed you blood out of this cup."

He looked down to discover she held the old, chipped 'Kiss the Librarian' mug, and he smiled back at her.

"Things have sure changed since then, pet."

She watched as he captured the straw between his lips and drank. "They certainly have, Spike."


****


Giles sat at the dinning room table, the few texts and manuscripts he'd saved spread out before him. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Buffy and Willow had given him the few books and documents they still possessed, but it wasn't nearly enough. Damn the council for refusing to decentralize. Too secure in their belief that they were invulnerable to attack, pride had been their ultimate downfall - and now lifetimes worth of irreplaceable documents and reference books were gone forever.

He had a nagging feeling that he was overlooking something important, and he sincerely hoped that he would figure out what it was before it was too late to make a difference.

"You look tired," came a voice from beside him. He looked up to find Dawn standing there.

"I am."

She peered over to see what he'd been reading. "The Mythos of the Chosen? What are you looking for? Can I help?"

He almost refused her out of habit, but her eyes caught his, pleading with him to not shut her out. He nodded slowly. "Perhaps you might go on that computer of Willow's and see if you can find anything on the Internet."

Dawn sat down at the end of the table where the laptop sat open and booted it up. "What do you want me to look for?"

While Giles mulled over what he should ask her to search for, the feeling there was something he was missing right under his nose grew stronger. "Er, just start with a general search for anything about Slayers, specifically in regards to the Line of the Chosen. I'm not even quite sure what to look for."

Dawn nodded, and started her search. "I'll start with a couple of sites I have book marked. There is this one great archive that has all sorts of stuff. It's not very organized, but I found some really interesting stuff on B'lgesh demons there..."

"That's it!" Giles blurted out, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Good Lord, I must be getting daft in my old age!"

Dawn regarded him strangely. "A B'lgesh demon is it? Did I miss something?"

"Yes, actually. Just my utter idiocy." He shook his head and smiled at her. "Dawn, do you still have copies of all the books and documents that Willow and I archived the summer before Dracula came to Sunnydale?"

She thought for a second, then her face brightened into a smile. "Yeah! Willow burned everything onto CD's so we could have copies here, at the Magic Box and at Xander's. But we always ended up doing book research at the Magic Box before you left, and after that, we seemed to be able to find stuff so easily online..."

"And you forgot all about the archives."

She nodded and gave him a chagrined look. His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Don't feel too badly. Willow and I spent over 4 months doing the archiving, and I forgot all about it till just now. Do you know where they are?"

The youngest Summers jumped up and rushed out of the room before he'd even finished speaking. He smiled at her exuberance, then started to jot down a list of things he wanted her to look for. Having her do this would serve a double purpose; it would help Dawn to feel useful and it would save him from having to work on that infernal machine.



***


The First wandered silent, invisible through the house, watching the frenetic activity in amusement. They scrambled and searched and trained and organized and planned... and all for naught. They had so little clue about the scope of what they were dealing with, the forces that were at work.

The slayer had defeated a Hellgod, but even the God had possessed a mere smattering of Its power. But ever, as always, the First was constrained to act within the Balance. It could only take advantage of the imbalance the slayer had caused, not tip the scales in Its own favour. If it acted rashly and did so, The Powers of Good would send an agent to aid them - to restore the balance. It could, however, apply a few well-placed nudges. Right now, Its goal was to carefully nurture the illusion they had about being on the right path. Slowly, but surely, the vulnerability of the Chosen line would increase as the dissonance in the mystic forces grew stronger. All It needed to do was wait.

***


Chloe's face was anxious. "You're going to leave us alone?" she asked, voice quavering just the slightest bit. Behind her, the other girls stood in a loose cluster, their individual body language portraying a range of emotions from hostility to dismay.

Buffy stood by the front door, trying very hard to be sympathetic with the potential slayers, but it was taxing her patience. She crossed her arms and drew a deep breath before replying. "I know you guys are scared. You have reason to be. But if I don't go back to work, there is no money coming in. That means I can't pay the mortgage, the electric and the water. And if you think it's been bad up till now, you've never had to deal with bill collectors." She scrunched up her nose for a second. "Actually, I think bill collectors are minions of the First. They're definitely evil enough." She stopped and looked them over, catching each of their eyes briefly before continuing.

"Besides, you aren't going to be alone. Anya and Giles are here. Xander will be back to check on you sometime during the day, Willow only has two classes today, so she'll be back around noon. And I'll be back with Dawn right after school."

Rona crossed her arms and looked at the floor while she spoke. "So, we're stuck here with your watcher, an ex demon, an injured vampire, and some guy who killed his friend?" She gave Buffy an incredulous look. "You'll pardon me for not feeling totally secure."

"Spike is not a danger to you."

"He bit me!" rang out an unwelcome voice from the front room. "He tried to ki-"

"Andrew, shut up."

Buffy rubbed her eyes, then looked back up at the six skeptical faces before her. "Yes, Spike did bite him. But he was under the control of the First at the time. It won't happen again. We figured out that he was being triggered by the First, and he's aware of it now. He can fight it."

"How do you know?" asked Vi, glancing up the stairs to where the vampire in question was sleeping. "What if he can't, and he attacks us?"

Kennedy let out a sound of disgust. "Then I'll stake him." She shrugged and planted her hands on her hips. "I can't believe what wimps you guys are." She looked over at Buffy. "You had better stay alive. I shudder to think what might happen if one of them were called."

"I plan on it," she replied grimly. "And no staking of Spike. I didn't fight the Ubervamp and get him back so that you could make him all dusty." The girls all began to protest at this, and Buffy gave them a stern look. "No staking!"

Giles cleared his throat, and the hubbub quieted. "Someone will be with him at all times. If something untoward seems to be happening, he will be subdued before he can harm anyone."

"I am *not* going to become some vampire's breakfast just because you-"

"Buffy." Spike's voice cut Kennedy off mid tirade, and they all turned to find him shakily making his way down the stairs.

"Spike! You should be in bed!" Buffy moved towards the stairs, intent on escorting him back to her bedroom, but he shook his head and waved her away.

Finally, he reached the bottom step, took a moment to collect himself, then looked her in the eye. "Buffy, they have the right to protect themselves. You can't tell them not to. If I attack any one of them, they need to be able to stop me by whatever means necessary." He turned his gaze to Kennedy, who met it steadily. "If that turns out to be a stake, then so be it." He looked back to the Slayer. "I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen. If I start seein' things or hearing voices, I'll tell the Watcher. They can chain me up." His voice changed, pleading with her, self-loathing evident. "I can't live with the thought of hurting anyone else, Buffy. If there's a chance I might kill one of them because they've no choice but to try and keep me alive, I'll take a walk in the sun right now."

Cold dread twisted in Buffy's stomach as she looked into his face and knew with certainty that he meant it. "But you know what's happening now. You can fight it!" she insisted.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I still don't know exactly how that wretched ponce manages to make me go all fangy, pet. I'm not willing to risk their lives on it." He spared a glance for Giles. "And no offence, Rupert, but if I suddenly got a mind to munch on one of these ladies, there wouldn't be a hell of a lot you could do to stop me - other than a stake through the chest, and you know it."

Buffy clenched her hands so tightly she felt her fingernails cutting into her palms. A second later, she saw Spike's nostrils flare as he caught the scent. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh of defeat then looked back up at the girls standing before her. "Okay. *If* something happens, do what you have to do. But only what you have to do." Again, her eyes locked with Kennedy's. "Only what you have to do, and no more. Please?"

"It's a deal," agreed the brunette, a satisfied look on her face.

With a final nod, Buffy walked out of the house. As she approached the car where Xander and Dawn were waiting for her, she wondered if Spike would still be there when she got home. And realized that the thought he might not caused far more anguish than she wanted to admit.


*****


"This is hopeless."

Giles rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache gathering there. "Anya, I know the research is frustrating, but-"

"No, not the research," she replied impatiently. "These files! Who catalogued this? M'thris demons should be filed under the Kerzanti classification. This is a mess. Whoever did this really didn't know what they were doing."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I did this. With Willow's help."

The look she gave him spoke volumes as to her opinion about that. "This whole database needs to be reorganized, Giles. I could use the same program I had for the inventory at the Magic Box and file things properly. It would be a lot easier to find things if they were cross referenced, and had a table of contents."

"Perhaps you could worry about organizing the files after we deal with the present threat?"

She gave him a sullen look before turning her attention back to the laptop in front of her.

With a sigh, Giles turned his attention back to the printouts stacked before him. He and Anya had been searching all morning for any solid reference to the mystical power surrounding the Chosen Line, but everything was maddeningly obscure. He was beginning to despair of ever finding anything useful.

A sudden gasp from Anya pulled his gaze to her. And the short man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and a fedora who was suddenly leaning against the table near her.

"Whistler." He enunciated the name carefully, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

The newest addition to the room smiled at him and spread his arms expansively. "The one and only."

"Thank God," Giles muttered under his breath.

Whistler glanced down at Anya then back over at Giles. "How you got a Vengeance demon on your side still has the powers all abuzz, you know?" he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"I doubt that you've appeared here just to tell us about how we managed to startle the Powers that Be." Giles retorted. "If there is something useful that you have to share with us regarding the current crisis, it would be most welcome."

"Yeah," the slight demon agreed. "But, hey. I'm a little parched. They don't keep a lot of liquid refreshment in the upper realms, if you know what I mean." His expression turned hopeful. "Don't suppose you've got anything to drink in the house?"

"I was just considering putting on some tea, actually..."

"Giles! Who is this man, and how did he know about my past?" Anya demanded.

"He's a demon. And he works for the Powers That Be. Helping to maintain the balance."

She turned to Whistler and addressed him directly. "With the Powers? You do realize that when doing such important work, a good first impression is essential. Do you have any idea what a terribly fashion statement you are making? It took me two years to get Xander to part with those horrible shirts. You really should think about trying something in a nice solid colour."

Giles felt the tension headache blossom into a full-fledged migraine. "Or perhaps a good, stiff shot of scotch might be in order."

Whistler smiled beatifically. "Now you're speaking my language."



**********


Vi and Molly sat in Buffy's room talking with Spike in something akin to awe. Fear and trepidation were beginning to give way to admiration, and perhaps just a bit of a crush on the part of both girls.

"So, you and the Slayer have been working together for over four years then?" asked Molly, sitting cross-legged on the bed near Spike's feet. "I'm well and truly gobsmacked."

Vi leaned forward in the bedside chair she occupied. "My Watcher told me that Vampires were totally evil and could never change." She looked troubled. "Does this mean... were they wrong? Was the Council wrong?"

"First off," Spike corrected, "I wouldn't say four years. Yeah, it was about then that we called a truce to fight Angelus, but that was in my own self-interest. And it was almost a year and half later before I started to willing help the Scoobies out. And secondly-"

Molly's curious voice cut him off. "Scoobies?"

He sighed. "S'what the Slayer's little band of friends used to call themselves. Still do, I reckon." He chuckled as he thought back to the first time he'd ever watched them come up with a plan. "I'm still not quite sure how that raggle taggle mob managed to thwart me at every turn. Had a good lot to do with sheer, blind luck I'd imagine. But, back to what I was saying."

He tapped Vi's hand lightly, then shook a finger at her. "You mind your Watcher, young lady. What he's telling you, you don't forget that. I was totally evil. I wanted nothing better than death and blood and mayhem. It took getting a Government Issue microchip in my brain to make that stop. I'd still be killing today if that hadn't happened." He gave her a wry smile. "Actually, s'lot more likely I'd be a dust pile behind the Bronze or some such right now. Buffy would have put me out of her misery long before now if I'd still been evil."

"So what really happened?" came a new voice from hallway. The three of them looked up to find Kennedy lounging in the doorjamb, obviously listening in on the conversation. "I mean, you had minions. You were a Master Vampire! If you had wanted to be evil, you still could have been." Her casual demeanor belied the steel in her voice. "What made a totally evil, though chipped, demon like you decide that you needed a soul?" She took a step into the room, nonchalantly pulling a stake from the back of her waistband as she approached the bed.

"Kennedy!" Vi let out a panicked squawk. "You promised Buffy!"

The brunett inspected the point of the stake, ignoring her nervous counterpart. Molly quickly scrambled off the bed to stand in front of her. "He hasn't done anything! You can't hurt him."

Kennedy looked the other girl up and down and then shook her head. "I'm not here to hurt him - unless, of course, he's lying. Unless this is just some big scheme on the part of the First to get an agent in this house and lull us into false sense of security so that it can kill us unsuspecting. I just want to know that I can trust him." She stepped around Molly to look down at Spike where he sat back against the headboard. "Can I, Spike? Can I trust that you won't go all evil again and try to tear our throats out? Can I trust that this whole soul thing that you seem to have the Slayer and her friends convinced of - well, except for Xander, *he* doesn't seem to trust you - isn't just some elaborate ruse?"

"You do realize that you're a raving paranoid," Molly commented, earning a dark look for her troubles.

Kennedy stood fast for a moment and looked for all the world as if she was ready to plunge the stake into Spike's chest. Then she sighed tiredly and and backed away, tucking the stake back into the waistband of her jeans. "Yeah. But I'd rather be paranoid then dead."

"You keep thinking that way, pet," instructed Spike. "That's the kind of thing that's going to keep you alive."

She nodded at him, still somewhat wary, then addressed Molly and Vi. "It's my turn to stand watch now. You guys can go."

Vi skirted around Kennedy and shot out of the room. Molly glanced back at Spike, then caught Kennedy's eyes. "You're not supposed to be watching him alone."

"Chole will be up in a minute."

"You're not going to do anything foolish?"

Kennedy rolled her eyes. "If he keeps his teeth to himself, he gets to stay undusty. I promise I'll only do what I absolutely have to do."

Molly gave her a curt nod and walked out of the room, leaving Kennedy and Spike to face each other. He gave her a smirk. "I bet your interpritation of what you absolutely have to do is a little bit looser than what Buffy had in mind."

As she sat in the chair Vi had just vacated, she set her stake in her lap and gave him wintry smile. "I bet you're right."






Andrew meandered aimlessly throughout the house, trying to engage the pre-slayers in conversation, but his efforts were singularly unsuccessfully. After trying to wheedle his way into helping with the research, he earned a scolding from Anya that set his face flaming. He stayed away from where she and Giles were working after that.

He'd been lying on the couch staring morosely at the floor for the better part of the morning when he noticed a book wedged under the coffee table. Curious, he pulled it Free. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized it was a book of incantations and charms. He glanced around surreptitiously, before opening it and beginning to read.

"Occludo!"

"Gah!" Andrew jumped back as the book snapped shut, almost catching his nose in the process. He looked up to find Willow standing there, hands clasped together before her. She did not look pleased.

Xander stood beside her, giving him a stony look. "Oh, just what we needed, a homicidal dork mucking around with magic behind our backs during a possible apocalypse." He stepped forward and relieved Andrew of the book "I think not."

"I just wanted to help," he whined, sulking. "I could be, you know, all noble and use my powers for good and stuff like that."

"News flash, Nemesis-boy. You don't *have* any powers. And even if you did, we wouldn't want them."

Andrew started to protest, and Xander held up a hand to stem the flow. "Ah-ah! Remember what Buffy said. Do you *want* to star in Misery, The Sunnydale Story?" The young man quailed and sat back on the couch with a whimper.

Willow 's threw Xander a questioning glance. "Misery?" she mouthed silently. Xander gave her a motion that said 'tell you later', and reached up to place the book on the top of the bookshelf. With a stern parting glance from Willow, the two of them left him in the front room and went to check on Giles and Anya's progress.

Papers and books were piled on the dinning room table, but no one was there. Willow looked questioningly at Xander.

"Maybe they're up with Spike," he guessed with a shrug. They were about to head back towards the stairs when they heard Giles's voice coming from the kitchen. "Or not." He walked back across the room to push through the adjoining door. "Hey, G-man, how goes the..." He stopped short, and Willow almost walked right into him. "Ahh... who is *this*?"

"Whistler," offered the man who was standing at the island constructing a large sandwich. He piled on a few more pickles, slapped a slice of bread on the top and cut the sandwich in two. Picking up a piece, he took a huge bite, a blissful expression on his features as he chewed.

Xander paled. "Giles, please tell me that's not another musical type demon!"

Giles was sitting at the island nursing a tumbler of scotch. "No. Just a 'bearer-of-unwelcome-information-in-the-form-of-cryptic-clues' type."

"Whistler," Willow spoke, frowning. "That name sounds familiar. I remember Buffy saying something about a demon named Whistler, once."

"One in the same," the demon assured her, before taking another bite.

"It turns out that there might be more going on than just the resurrection spell," Anya supplied. "He says that Buffy did something." She glared at the demon for a moment then looked back to Xander and Willow. "But he won't tell us what."

"Can't," Whistler corrected her as she wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm here to see that the balance is preserved. It's not my place to give you all the answers."

"And why not?" demanded Xander. "You're here telling us there's something more going on. Why can't you just help us out a little?"

Whistler shook his head ruefully. "It's against the rules, kid. I give you too much information and it tips the scales. Then the First has a right to act directly to balance it all out." He sighed. "The First is only allowed to act through agents, just like the Powers that Be. That's the way it works. When It goes to far, pushes where It's not allowed to, then the Powers give you guys a little extra help. That's why I'm here. But trust me on this one, kid. You don't want me to tell you anything more than I already have, or the First will have the right to manifest corporeally. And then we won't be having anymore little conversations."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

Whistler picked up the other half of his sandwich. "Because you'll be dead." With that, he took a big bite. "Mmm. I love this dimension!"

Willow took a deep breath and put on her resolve face. "Okay. Maybe we don't want you to tell us more. But could you fill us in on the part that won't get us instantly killed by the First? You might have noticed that we sort of missed the telling part, what with the whole not being here thing going on."

Whistler nodded, and swallowed his bite. "Fair enough. I can tell you that I'm here because the vampire being kidnapped and bled dry was putting the foot over the line. That's why you guys are getting the heads up."

"Bled dry?" Anya had a puzzled look on her face. "Spike still had some blood in him when Buffy rescued him. He wasn't completely desiccated."

"Actually, he was," replied the demon, wiping mayo off his cheek after wolfing down the rest of his lunch. "The Powers intervened. And then sent me out." He grabbed the bottle of scotch from where it sat in front of Giles and poured himself two fingers worth. "It knows I'm here. It's furious about it, but It has to play by the rules." He looked up at Willow. "Time is running out. Your Slayer needs to deal with this before it gets any worse."

"For God's sake, man!" Giles thundered out, frustration oozing from every pore. "She's more than willing to do whatever it takes, just as she always has. But she needs to know *what* to do! We're rather in the dark about that!"

Whistler shrugged. "I can't tell you anything else. She has to figure this out herself."

"Could you at least give us a hint where she should start looking?" Willow pleaded. "Just a crumb?"

"I dunno," he hedged. "I suppose... well, okay, I can tell you this. The Slayer needs to reconsider what her Spirit Guide told her."

Willow's face screwed up in disbelief. "That's it?"

A bloodcurdling scream tore through the house.

Whistler sighed. "I *told* you, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to try and wheedle more information out of me, and now look."

Xander and Giles made a beeline for the stairs, Willow and Anya close on their heels. They almost ran into Vi, Rona and Molly, who had come up from training in the basement to see what was the matter. Xander caught Chloe as she came flying down the stairs, weeping in terror.

"H-h-h-he vamped out and a-a-attacked me! Kennedy slammed him into the w-w-w-wall, oh my God, HELP HER!" She clung to his arms. He gently disengaged her and handed her off to Molly before racing up to the bedroom, followed by the others. They arrived to find Kennedy and Spike circling one another warily, the proto-slayer with her stake ready, the vampire in full game face.

The men eased into the room, trying to flank Spike. He feinted towards Giles, then rushed Xander, and slammed him into the wall. Kennedy charged, stake held high, but a sweep kick knocked her back across the room and into Giles, tumbling them both out the door. Xander stared wide-eyed into Spike's face and realized that death was a very real possibility. The vampire snarled and lunged for his neck. Xander squawked when he felt fangs close over his jugular - but the expected pain did not come. He took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Spike hadn't let him go, but he hadn't bitten him either. Yet.

Xander saw Kennedy approaching again, and he shook his head ever so slightly, afraid that the girl might trigger Spike into finishing the job. He took another deep breath, and when there was still no searing pain, he decided to take a chance.

"Spike?" His voice was easily a half octave higher than normal. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Spike?" Xander tried to pull back a bit and crane his head over to see Spike's face, but it was hopeless. He felt the pressure over his jugular slacken, followed by an odd sensation. After a moment, Xander realized that Spike was speaking; the sensation was the feeling of the vampire's lips moving against his skin. He strained to hear what Spike was saying.

"I won't do it, I won't, I won't, you can't make me, I won't," Spike repeated the litany over and over. Xander looked up to see Willow coming slowly towards them. She gently touched Spike's shoulder and he shuddered at the contact, slowly pulling his head away from Xander's throat. Spike's game face melted away and he looked bleakly into the other man's eyes.

"I... Xander, I-"

Willow reached out once more, this time placing her hand on Spike's arm. He shifted his gaze to her. "Just let him go, Spike."

It was then Spike realized he still had Xander up against the wall, wrists pinned in his punishing grasp. He let go with alacrity, almost stumbling backwards in his effort to release Xander quickly enough. He kept backing away, stopping only when he hit the back of the bed. He slid down to the floor, wrapped his arms around his legs and began to rock back and forth. "It's never gonna stop, never. I'll never be free."

Xander stepped gingerly past the distressed vampire to where Giles stood watching. He rubbed his wrists, then brought a hand to his neck. "I thought I was nummy treats for sure. Xander tartare." He gave Giles a puzzled look. "What do you think stopped him?"

"I haven't the faintest."

Willow had settled on floor beside Spike, speaking soothingly, comfortingly as one might to a distraught child. Kennedy grabbed her stake from where it had fallen and started across the room with a purpose in her stride when Giles reached out and grabbed her arm.
"No," he said with quiet authority.

She looked at him, disbelieving. "No? What part of this did you miss? The part where he almost killed Chloe or the part where he was trying to kill me? Or maybe the part where he just about ripped out your friend's throat?"

"He didn't."

"Yeah, but he could have!" The young woman was shaking, the aftermath of the fear and adrenaline finally catching up with her. "Maybe next time he will! I'm not willing to bet my life that he can stay in control. I'd rather take my chances with the Harbringers - at least they're predictable!"

Whistler stepped into the room. "No, honey, you wouldn't." She looked at him askance. "This only happened because things were slightly out of Balance," he assured her, with a meaningful look at Xander and Giles. "It's extremely unlikely it's going to happen again." He looked at Spike on floor, and then moved his gaze to the empty bed. "Enough. The Balance has been restored for the time being." Whistler waited a moment, then frowned and crossed his arms. "Show's over. Curtain call, time for all the actors to show themselves."

There was a flash, and just as 'Eve' had winked out of existence in the basement, 'Buffy' winked in. She was sprawled out on the bed, leaning on her elbows and whispering in Spike's ear, inches from Willow. The witch recoiled at the sudden appearance of the First in the form of her friend.

"What the fuck?" Kennedy paled and took a step backwards. She shot Giles a look. "I thought this thing could only take the form of a dead person! Does that mean..."

"No," Giles assured her. "I'll explain later."

'Buffy' slowly turned her head to fix Whistler with a malevolent glare. "You're interfering, demon. You have no right."

Whistler looked bored. "Yeah. Whatever. Time to go, Morphy."

"Or what?" 'Buffy' mocked, then turned her attention back to Spike. "C'mon, Spike. You know you want to. She'd be so tasty. And then you *know* that Buffy would stake you for sure."

"Okay, that's it," Whistler said in an annoyed tone. "You know you've overstepped yourself." 'Buffy' ignored him and started to hum a tune. Spike jerked, his eyes starting to glaze over.

Whistler snapped his fingers. "Get out."

The air shimmered and 'Buffy' screamed with rage. The figure on the bed writhed and twisted, then literally turned itself inside out before vanishing with a loud pop.

"Stubborn bastard," Whistler muttered under his breath. He sighed deeply. "It should be gone for awhile.

Xander stepped up beside him while watching Willow resume her place beside Spike, trying to bring him out of the thrall he'd started to fall under. "So," he began, trying to understand what he'd just seen. "That... 'Buffy' we saw. Is that what Spike has been seeing since he came back? When he's been talking to himself? The First?"

Whistler caught him with piercing look. "I can't answer that. But ask yourself - how would you manipulate a recently re-souled, confused and heartsick vampire?"

Xander shivered. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something for Spike other than anger, suspicion and distrust - he felt pity.

Buffy pushed the front door open with a sigh of relief. It had been a most exhausting day. She'd spent most the morning trying to catch up on paperwork she'd been too tired to complete while hunting for Spike - and then spent the afternoon trying to make it right with the students she'd dozed off on while she was listening to them. Her explanations about having insomnia and looking after a sick friend had gone a long way to healing hurt feelings with most the kids, but she knew there was still some begging and scraping she would have to do with several of them.

It was nice to be home - somewhere that people understood there really were things that went bump in the night. That it was her job to kill them. And that demon goo had to be rinsed out of a silk shirt before it set.

Dawn breezed past her and headed upstairs.

"Do you have homework?"

Snort. Hair flip. Eyeroll. Avoidy Behaviour 101: Don't answer, don't lie. Buffy remembered this course. It was one of the few she had aced in High School.

"Uh-huh. You are so not calling Janice. Homework before phone."

"Buffy!"

The Slayer cocked an eyebrow at her little sister. "You do your homework, we're both happy, and then you can call Janice and talk to her all night."

"Fine," Dawn grumbled as she continued up the stairs. "There better not be an apocalypse before I'm finished or I'll be pissed."

"Dawn! Language!"

Dawn glanced over her shoulder, about to make a snarky comment when Xander appeared unexpectedly at the top of the stairs. His haggard appearance put a sudden end to their sisterly bickering.

"Buffy."

Fear tore through her belly. "Spike?" she whispered, frozen to the spot. But only for a moment. Before he could answer, she was up the stairs, past Dawn, past Xander and in the bedroom. She was already halfway across the room when Willow shook her head and laid a finger across her lips.

Spike lay there on the bed. Buffy watched him tossing and turning, gripped by nightmares or memories, perhaps both. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that he was okay. About a second after that, her knees turned to jelly. She stepped back and leaned against the door jam for support. And breathing. Yes, breathing was good.

Dawn stepped into the room, took one look at Spike, and crossed the room to sit on her knees beside the bed. She reached up and tentatively took one of his hands in her own. The moment she touched him, he calmed, turning toward her in his sleep as if seeking comfort. Willow rose from the chair she'd been sitting in and crossed over to join Buffy by the door.

Buffy looked back at Xander, then at Willow. "What happened?" she demanded quietly.

Xander ran a hand through his hair. "Things almost got ugly, Buff," he replied. "While we were talking to Whistler-"

She cut him off, face tight with anger. "Whistler's back? Where is he?"

"I think he left, Buffy," Willow spoke softly. "The First paid Spike a visit while we were downstairs talking to him." She looked guiltily at the floor. "I think it was my fault. He told us that he couldn't tell us anymore, but I just kept on pushing him for more information and the second he told us something, the First got to Spike and made him attack Chloe."

Buffy blanched at that. "Is she okay?"

Xander nodded. "She's fine. A little shaken up, but fine." He grinned wryly. "Just like me." At her questioning look, he shrugged and looked away. "Giles and I tried to stop him. Didn't work out so well." He turned back to her. "Buffy, he had me cold. He was *this* close to ripping my throat out, but he stopped himself." Xander shook his head, amazement evident. "I thought I was dead, and he just - stopped. Then Whistler comes in and snaps his fingers, and there you are, lying on the bed, whispering murderous suggestions in his ear. Except it's not you, it's the First. Geeze, Buff! It's a wonder the guy can put two coherent thoughts together considering the way that thing has been playing mind games with him! And have I mentioned the part where he could have killed me and didn't? When all this is over, I'm going to have to apologize to him." He chuckled. "You know there's an apocalypse coming when *I* admit I need to apologize to Spike."

Buffy processed that for a moment before speaking. "Okay. I'm going on record here to say that when this is all over, and I finally kick the First's way evil ass out of my town, I'm going to go sit in a corner and wig for about a week. Advanced warning, just so you know."

Willow nodded vigorously. "I'll bring the Ben and Jerry's and keep you company."

Xander raised a hand. "Make a reservation in that corner for a party of three."

Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She glanced over at Dawn. Her sister had pulled the chair over to the bed to sit beside Spike, and still held his hand. Buffy motioned the two of them out into the hall, then began to ask questions. "Okay. Willow. Explain to me the bit about this information, and what it had to do with the First making Spike go all bitey."

Her two friends quickly brought her up to speed on the conversation that had taken place earlier that day in the kitchen. She tried to puzzle through it.

"I don't get it," she mused, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall. "The Eye of Borax said that I messed things up. Whistler said that I need to reconsider what the guide told me. The guide said that Death was my gift. Okay. I died. Glory is gone, the portal is closed, end of story. How is any of this relevant to what's happening?"

"Did she say anything else?" Xander probed.

"Loving, giving, death being my gift." Buffy shrugged. "It was all about giving up my life. I didn't understand when she told me, but it made perfect sense when I was standing on that tower faced with the choice of Dawn's death or mine."

"Buffy. Try to remember everything she said to you," Willow encouraged. "Word for word, no matter how inconsequential or trivial it seems. Maybe there was something else that you missed, or misinterpreted."

"Willow, there was no other interpretation!" Buffy insisted. "What else could it have been? Death was my gift. If I hadn't died, it would have been of the bad, with the whole dimensions mushing into each other and everything. Giles said so. He's usually right about that sort of stuff."

Xander opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated and said nothing.

"What?" she demanded.

"It's just... I'm not saying that you're wrong, Buffy. And I'm not saying that I would have wanted it to happen the other way, because I love her, just like I love you. I would have been devastated if anything had happened to her, you know that. But..."

Buffy's eyes widened as she realized what he was implying. "Are you trying to say that Dawn should have...? Are you crazy?" She looked like she was about to blow her stack. Willow touched her arm, trying to calm her down.

"No, Buffy, that's not what he's trying to say. He's trying to tell you that we need to know everything that the Spirit Guide said to you so we can see if there was something more that she was telling you, something that maybe you missed."

Xander spoke again. "I love Dawn, Buffy. You can't even question that. All I'm saying is that there was another person who could have closed that portal. I'm not saying that she should have, just that she could have." His eyes begged her to understand. "Please don't hate me for saying it."

She couldn't look at him. "I don't Xander. But I don't like you a lot for saying it, either."

"Buffy, please." Willow implored her. "Try to remember."

She heaved a sigh. "Okay. Let me think."

Buffy closed her eyes and took a centering breath, drawing on the skills that Giles had spent years drumming into her to calm the disquiet raging through her. She slid down the wall and sat cross-legged, then turned her focus inward to the memories of her quest. She could see, in her mind's eye, the rocky landscape, the fire dancing between her and her guide. Slowly, she began to speak.

"The guide told me that I was full of love, that I love with all my soul. That it was brighter than fire... blinding. And that was why I pull away from it."

"She said I would lose it only if I rejected it. She told me that love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain." Buffy paused for a moment, then her voice shifted, and she was echoing the voice of the guide rather than just explaining what it had said. "Love ... give ... forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift."

Willow knelt in front of her. "She said that love would bring you to your gift?"

"Yes."

"What is your gift, Buffy?"

Buffy's eyes fluttered open and she spoke in a whisper. "Death is my gift." She looked up at Willow, stricken. "Death. My gift is death. It's all I have to offer, Willow. Maybe... maybe this really is all my fault. If I had just stayed dead-"

"No!" Xander exclaimed. "I *can't* accept that. I won't. If your coming back was going to set everything so out of balance that it would trigger the next apocalypse, the Powers never should have let us do it. If they did, then there has to be a loophole somewhere. I've read enough contracts to know that there are always stipulations and clauses and quid pro quos and *dammit*! There is another way, Buffy Summers, because you are NOT going to die over this!" Xander's face was flushed, his hands clenched tightly by the time he finished. He tried to put on a grin, but it came out lopsided. "I'm just sayin'."

Willow sniffled. "Yeah. What he said."

Buffy clambered back to her feet, drew a shaky breath, then gave her friends a nod. "Okay. I'm with you on that. Last year was tough, but I made it - we all made I t- and I want to be here. So. Help me out here, guys, 'cuz I'm not big with the interpreting. *What* does this all mean?"

"Maybe Xander was right, Buffy. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be you in the first place."

The three of them spun around to find Dawn standing there, tears running down her face. "You were trying to love me, even though I'm not real. In the hospital, when you told me that it was Summers blood, that I was part of you, I started to believe it. And on that tower, when I saw you were willing to sacrifice everything for me, I knew it. I knew that you really loved me. And I was willing to die then. But you jumped. Buffy, you loved me, and maybe the gift your love was supposed to lead you to was my death, not yours. Maybe..." Dawn choked back a sob. "Maybe this is all my fault. It should have been me."

"Oh, Dawnster!" Xander was full of remorse. He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders "No way! I was trying to tell Buffy that sometimes we hear something and take it to mean one thing and then we find out it didn't mean what we thought after all!" He slipped a hand under her chin and made her look into his eyes. "I feel the same way about you as I do about Buffy. I have declared a moratorium on and Summers women dying over this thing. You got that, kiddo?"

She nodded, and then he pulled her into his embrace. She stood there for a moment, then pulled away. "Uhm... I don't want to snot all over your shirt. Gotta.." she waved towards the bathroom, then darted across the hall and into it, locking the door behind her.

"Well." Xander covered his eyes with one hand. "That covers the 'make a total heel of yourself' portion of my day."

"I should talk to her..." Buffy stepped across to bathroom door. "Dawn? Dawn, please let me in."

Xander headed downstairs and left Willow to slip back in the bedroom to keep vigil over Spike.




"And then Dawn came out? She *heard* what you said?"

"I didn't know she was there, An. I never meant to hurt her."

Anya bit back the reply she wanted to make, but from the way that Xander squirmed, she could tell that he was quite aware of that which was unsaid. Which was just as good.

"It was a valid point, Xander," Giles remarked, "If somewhat carelessly delivered. Buffy does need to think about what else the message she received from the spirit guide might have meant."

Anya jumped up before Giles could turn back to full research mode. She needed to get away from the books. And Xander.

"I'm going to help Willow. If Spike goes all fangy and out of control, at least I'll be safe since Buffy's home now." Both men spluttered as she left the room. She smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs. You can take the girl out of the vengeance biz...

As she approached the bedroom, Anya heard muted voices coming from the bathroom. Buffy was obviously picking up the pieces of the Xanderific wordfest. She sighed as she walked into the bedroom. She knew he really didn't mean to hurt Dawn, but she still ached from what he'd done less than a year before, and it would be some time before she was able to let it go. She shook herself out of her preoccupation with Xander as Willow looked up at her in surprise. Nothing better than focusing on a possible end of the world scenario to pull one out of the doldrums.

"I am here to help," she informed Willow with a nod of her head. "What would you like me to do?"

"Uhm..." Willow tried, and failed to come up with a job for her. "Nothing much to do but sit with him, Anya. Why don't you just sit here and keep me company?"

"I can do that." Anya pulled up the stool from in front of the vanity and settled in beside Willow. She leaned towards the other girl, and spoke sotto voice. "I like this job. Much easier than research."

They were both silent for few minutes, before Anya began to fidget. She looked up at Willow. "I want to talk."

The other woman eyed her warily. "About what?"

"Well, you and Xander did talk to Buffy. He told me what she said. What the spirit guide told Buffy. What do you think it means?"

Willow sighed. "I... I really don't know, Anya. It could be exactly what Buffy thought."

"But if so, why would the Whistler demon say that she needed to reexamine it?"

"You're right. But I really don't know what it could be. Not a clue."

Anya was silent for a moment, thinking. She had a half formed theory of her own, something she'd been toying with ever since Whistler had shown up that morning. After she'd learned what the spirit guide had told Buffy, she was even more convinced that she was on the right track. But she knew that none of them were going to be in the least bit receptive to it.

"What if it's about someone who loved her?"

Willow looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the guide said that love would lead her to her gift. Death was her gift. Okay. Putting aside the Glory/Dawn/Key/portal business - because I think that it had to happen the way it did - and setting aside the whole resurrection thing as well - because having spent many years in the demon realms, I can tell you that if the Powers really had a problem with it, it would NOT have happened - what if it's not about her at all?"

"I... huh?" Willow's face screwed up in confusion. "Anya, what are you talking about?"

Anya leaned in closer, warming up to her pet theory. "Think for a minute, Willow. *Who* has loved Buffy, maybe poorly, but fully, unconditionally, for a long time now? I'll give you a hint." She smiled. "He's dead."

Willow gaped. "SPIKE?"

"Shhh!!!

Willow slapped her hand over her mouth, and glanced down at the vampire. He was still sleeping soundly. She looked back up at Anya who had a cat-and-the-canary expression on her face. "What are you trying to say here, exactly?"

Anya rolled her eyes and let out a derisive snort. "You know exactly what I am saying. Maybe *Spike* was her gift. He loved her. Loves her still. He's dead. Maybe she was supposed to love, give, forgive - him! But she didn't. She wouldn't."

"But... but how would that have created this imbalance in the Chosen line?"

Anya sighed. "It's all about Balance, Willow. It always has been, always will be. Something in all of this smells suspiciously like destiny to me. As in, Spike and Buffy. I felt it from time to time before, I just didn't realize what it was. They're like yin and yang. Good touched by darkness, evil tempered by good." Anya stared at her hands, clasped in her lap. "I think Spike was a gift to Buffy - and maybe she was a gift for him too, I don't know. God know, after everything she's been through, she deserved a gift. And after all Spike has done to try and change his ways..." She looked back at Willow. "You remember how he was there for us all summer? There for Dawn? How he saved all of us more than once?" She laughed mirthlessly.

"We all pushed him away after she came back. Never saw the good he was striving for. Then she used him. They used each other. And it broke. And he ran off to get a soul."

"But... but, what does that have to do with this?"

Anya looked back at Spike. "Willow, what do you think that soul did to the balance?" She stood up abruptly. "Of course, I could be totally wrong. It's been nice chatting with you and not having to pretend I'm reading badly catalogued reference material. Which I am planning on itemizing and cross-referencing at my earliest opportunity so that Giles can find whatever obscure text he's looking for without my help."

With that, she strolled out of the room.

Willow sat frozen in her chair, thinking about what Anya had said. It couldn't be anything so fantastical... could it? And if so, then what? What would Buffy have to do to restore the balance?

She suddenly felt stifled, like she couldn't breath. She glanced down at the sleeping vampire once more, then rose to her feet and began pacing the room. No, that wasn't enough. Fresh air, that's what she needed. And no opening of the windows and possibly letting lethal afternoon sun in on Spike. She stuck her head out the bedroom door and looked down the hall to see if there was anyone there. She heard Buffy's voice coming from the bathroom.

"Buffy?"

A blonde head popped out the bathroom door. "Yeah?"

"Uhm... I just need to get some air. He's still sleeping."

She nodded. "We'll be there in a minute, Will." Buffy ducked back in the door.

Willow closed the bedroom door most the way, then slipped down the stairs, through the dining room and kitchen, and out the back door. She sat on the bench and tilted her face back to absorb some sunshine. Two of the potentials were outside as well, sitting on the grass talking as the got some much needed sun after being cooped up all day.

A few minutes later, Xander traipsed outside to come sit beside her.

"Penny for them."

She smiled ruefully "I think you would want a refund."

"C'mon, Will. Share with the Xanman. I've got broad shoulders."

She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, Dawn flying through the back door. "Willow! Spike's gone!"

Willow looked up at the almost hysterical girl to see Anya standing behind her. Their eyes met, and they spoke as one.

"Oh, no..."




Part 5



The house was in an uproar. They checked every nook and cranny, looking everywhere, from the cubbyhole under the stairs to the attic crawlspace. Spike had vanished.

"You don't think the First got to him and..." Dawn trailed off, looking out the window. The evening shadows were lengthening, but it was still lethally sunny outdoors.

"No unexplained piles of dust on the front porch or steps," Buffy informed her. "He didn't take a sunlit stroll."

They were gathered in the kitchen. Dawn, Anya and Buffy sat at the island while Xander and Giles leaned against the counter. Willow stood by the door to the dinning area. She took a quick glance out to make sure that none of the potential slayers were within earshot, and then cleared her throat.

"Uh, guys?"

They all waited expectantly. After a few moments of watching Willow fidget while she tried to figure out what to say, Anya spoke up. "She's trying to tell you that Spike might have left because he overheard us talking about him being Buffy's gift."

A cacophony of voices erupted.

"What?"

"That's absurd!"

"It's official. You have *lost* your mind."

"I *knew* this was going to happen," the ex-demon muttered under her breath.

Dawn looked at Anya, a hopeful expression on her face. "You mean... maybe this isn't all my fault?"

Buffy reached out and placed a hand on Dawn's arm. "We've been through this already. I told you, there is no way this is your fault." Then she addressed Anya. "Would you mind explaining exactly what the hell you mean by that?"

Anya rolled her eyes at the men's hostile reactions, then turned her attention to Buffy. "Oh, come on! If we're honest about examining all possibilities, you have to at least consider it."

"Consider what?" The slayer demanded. "That *Spike* is my gift?"

Anya shook her head. "You know he loves you, Buffy. And what if his love was what your spirit guide was talking about?"

Buffy gestured towards her sister. "That was about saving the world - and saving Dawn. She meant that *my* death was the gift."

"Or maybe your death was your choice," Anya shot back. "Freely given, because you love your sister, and saving the world is part of you job description. But tell me, where does the forgiveness part fit in with that?"

Buffy opened her mouth, then closed it, stymied. She turned to Giles. "Uh... help me out with this one?"

Giles was studying Anya intently. "Let me be certain that I understand you correctly. You are opining that... Spike's 'love'," he pronounced the word with distaste "was the vehicle through which Buffy was to receive her gift. And that gift was... Spike."

Anya beamed. "Exactly!"

Xander looked a little green. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Giles pressed on. "And she was to love him back? Forgive him?"

She nodded. "It fits with what her guide told her."

"I can't buy that, Anya." Buffy shook her head. "Free will, here. No moldy prophesies that I'm aware of saying that I have to love a vampire."

"But do you?" Willow questioned. Buffy turned to face her friend, a wary look on her face.

"He's a vampire, Will. With a soul now, but still undead. Blood sucking. And part of many not happy memories, some of which involve him trying to kill me."

Willow shook her head. "I know. But do you love him?"

Buffy hesitated. "I... "

"Buff?" Xander stared at her. She looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face, then dropped her gaze to the floor.

"I... I don't know," she finally admitted. "I feel for him. I care about what happens to him."

Dawn crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at her sister. "That doesn't sound like a no, Buffy." She snorted. "I thought you said 'no' just a little too quickly that day we talked on the bleachers."

"Okay, ignoring the extremely wiggy concept that there could be any feelings warmer than 'ewww-ick-dead-thing' between the souled-wonder and the Buffster, can I just ask - so what?" Xander held out upturned hands. "What difference does any of this make?"

Willow glanced at Anya, then replied. "If what she is proposing is correct, Xander, then when Spike went to get his soul, the balance was altered in favour of the good."

"And again, so what? Why is that Buffy's problem? Like she said, free will. She didn't want to be with him. His choices are *his*."

Giles looked thoughtful. "This is all supposition and conjecture, but..." He paused, trying to work it through in his mind even as he spoke. "If we run with this theory, her choice to reject him as he was before placed Spike in an untenable position. He was unable to be truly good with no conscience to guide or control him - and unable to be truly evil with both the chip and his extended exposure to us having caused a paradigm shift in the way he perceived humans." His expression grew bleak. "In which case, Buffy forced his hand. And as her gift from the powers, he, in essence, became part of the mystical forces surrounding her. When he was granted his soul - that was when those forces became unstable."

Buffy's eyes filled with anguish. "Oh my god."

Xander laughed nervously. "But this is just one theory. A totally whacked theory. Someone has to have another interpretation." He looked around at Willow, then Giles. "Watcher man! You have another theory? Tell me you have another theory!"

Giles slowly shook his head, never taking his eyes off Buffy who seemed to be wilting into her seat. Anya sat back, a smug expression on her face. Willow came up to her stricken friend and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was Dawn who asked the pertinent question.

"Uhm... so, how does Buffy fix it?" she asked, casting a worried glance at her sister. "Does she just go say "Hey, Spike, I love you!" and all is well?"

Giles sighed tiredly. "I'm afraid it's not the simple, Dawn. The damage has been done. The Beljoxa Eye said the forces have become irrevocably altered. I don't believe a proclamation of love would make any difference at this point."

"I'm still voting for alternate theories, here," Xander chimed in.

Anya glared at him. "Xander, everyone else has accepted this," she said in a no nonsense tone. "Stop living in the land of denial and get over it. We have more important things to do than hold your hand and coddle you through a temper tantrum."

"Giles?" Buffy looked up at her Watcher. "How do I fix this?"

Compassion filled his tone. "If Spike is truly what is causing this imbalance in the Slayer line and making it vulnerable to attack, then it logically follows that his removal is the only thing that would rectify the situation."

They all fell silent as the implications of what Giles had said sunk in.

Buffy clenched her hands tightly, knuckles going white. "You mean I'm going to have to stake him." It came out as a whisper. "I don't know if I can." She looked at her hands. "It's just like with Angel, only worse - at least I went to kill him because he'd lost his soul. It almost destroyed me. How can I do this again?"

"Not a problem," came a voice from the dinning room entrance. Kennedy, Molly and the other potentials were standing there. "Point me in the right direction. I'll take care of it."

"Girls," Giles began, but Kennedy cut him off.

"If he's the reason that thing is able to take us out so easily, then I'm taking him out. Soul, no soul, it's all the same to me. " She gave Buffy a disdainful look. "Stake, heart, poof. No more vampire, no more problem, then we can all go back to our lives."

Willow bristled. "You know, this was a private conversation. And there are things going on that you have no idea about. And no right to judge anyone about. And didn't you know eavesdropping is rude?"

Molly had the good graces to look abashed. "Weren't trying to eavesdrop, exactly. We were downstairs talking, and there was a lull in the conversation and, well... there is an air duct here in the kitchen," she pointed to a small grate set in the wall, "and sound carries really well into the basement."

"And you weren't exactly being really quiet," Vi piped up from behind Kennedy.

"So." Kennedy tucked her stake in her waistband and crossed her arms. "Let's go vamp hunting."

Buffy drew herself up and squared off with the younger girl. "No, let's not. You are staying here. I am going to find Spike." Her face grew hard. "I have always done what I needed to do, no matter how much it cost me personally, and I'm not going to quit now."

Kennedy shook her head. "I think you might need a little help with this one, *Slayer*," she replied.

"Did you not notice the way she totally kicked the Turok Han's ass?" Xander inquired evenly, belying the anger in his face. "I think she can take care of one weak, souled vamp."

"She wasn't sleeping with the Turok Han."

There was a collective gasp in stereo around the room, and for a moment, it looked like Buffy might just lose her temper and punch the other girl. She managed to reign herself in, and nodded.

"Fine. But I'm warning you. Stay the hell out of my way."

Kennedy nodded. "I wouldn't dream of interfering."




Spike slogged through the sewers, driven by one thing. He had to get rid of his soul. And there certainly wasn't time to hop on a ship for the long trip back to Africa, which left only one option. He looked around for the access hatch. He knew it was around here somewhere. Ah! About ten feet ahead.

He reached up painfully, and gave it a mighty shove. The hatch flew open, and he heard voices above. He cleared his throat, then called up. "Oi! Willie! Drop a ladder down here." A moment later, the requested ladder slid down, landing with a thud. He slowly clambered up.

"Spike!" came the nervous voice. "What brings you here?"

Spike ignored the man till he was fully within the establishment and back on his feet. He turned to face the barkeeper. "I'm lookin' for a particular demon."

Willie nodded, wide eyed. "Uh, sure. Haven't seen you in such a long time, it's just a surprise is all." He quickly dragged the ladder up and threw it in the back storage room before closing the hatch. He motioned Spike to a barstool. "The usual? I've got some fresh O Neg."

Spike waved him off. "Just want to know where I can find the soul stealer."

Willie's eyes widened. "Him? Haven't heard from him since the Mayor had him in town to steal... well, that's all in the past." Willie looked around at his other patrons, most of whom were giving Spike the jaundiced eye. "Uh, Spike? You wanna sit down? You're kind of attracting a lot of attention. I'll go call a few contacts and see what I can find out."

Spike sighed wearily and nodded, then settled onto the stool. "Willie?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurry. Please."

The barkeep raised an eyebrow. Spike? Say please? And life on the Hellmouth just kept getting weirder.





The First slipped invisibly through the bar and watched Spike. It toyed with tormenting him, but knew that it would backfire. Whistler was lurking somewhere in the background and would be right there to stop things before they could get interesting.

It instantaneously transported itself to the Summers home just in time to see the Slayer and her friends leave with one of the proto-slayers in tow. It flitted inside to check up on the other potentials. As it listened in on the conversation between those left behind, it was filled with evil glee. So close to its goal, it had been thwarted by Whistler - and now Buffy was charging off with just enough misinformation to make a fatal mistake and leave the Chosen line open for complete destruction. Things could not get any better if it had planned them this way.




Buffy and Xander were arguing about where to go. "I say the high school, Buff. If he's wigging out, it makes sense that he'd go somewhere that felt familiar."

"We went with that idea and checked the crypt first. No Spike," she reminded him. "I still say that unsouled Spike went on a bender when he was depressed, and the souled version is likely to do the same thing."

"Why don't you guys go check the High School, and let Buffy and me check the demon bar?" Kennedy suggested. Buffy just gave her a look.

Giles spoke up. "I would tend to agree that the pub is a more logical option."

"Thank you, Giles." Buffy gave Xander a smirk. "See? Psychology girl, that's me."

"Actually, it's more that being English, the local is the first place one would be likely to head after earth shattering news. But your idea has merit as well."

Buffy rolled her eyes, then started out down the street, leading them towards Willy's. Kennedy fell into step beside her, the two of them pulling a moderate distance ahead of the rest of the team.

"So what's the plan?" she asked. "Just walk up and stake him? You don't think he's just going to let you do it, do you?"

Buffy gave her a sidelong glance and kept walking. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I think that if I walked up and told him to pull his shirt open so that I could get a better aim, he'd do that exactly that. And he'd turn his face away from me so that I wouldn't even have to look him in the eye while I did it."

Kennedy frowned. "I don't get it, Buffy. I don't understand you, and I sure as hell don't understand him. None of this is covered in the Slayer's Handbook."

Buffy chuckled. "That's what they keep telling me. I wouldn't know. I've never read the damn thing."

"That explains a lot." Kennedy kicked a stone and watched it skittering along in front of them. "My Watcher made it all seem so black and white. Good, Evil. Kill Vampires. Kill demons. Live on the edge, die young. But you..." Kennedy shook her head. "Giles has told us a few things. Dawn filled in a lot of blanks that he wouldn't. And between the things that Willow, Xander and Anya have said or hinted at, it sounds like you go out of your way to break the rules."

"No, not really," Buffy clarified. "Like I said, no handbook. I never knew the rules, so I made up my own. I drove Giles crazy and I really pissed off the council a bunch of times. I kinda felt bad about Giles, but... did you ever meet Travers?"

"Once." Kennedy smiled. "You pissed him off? That's cool."

"Yeah, I felt pretty good about it."

They were quiet for a few moments, but Kennedy continued, curiosity getting the best of her. "I just don't understand how you ended up sleeping with a vampire." There was distaste evident in her tone. "I mean, okay - Dawn told us about Angel, and I sort of understand, being that he had a soul, and was fighting by your side from the beginning and all... but Spike? He was evil." She gave Buffy a searching look. "Why?"

Buffy sighed. "It's a long, complicated story. The simplest way to explain it is that Spike loved me, but he didn't expect anything from me. I needed to be loved without expectations and demands." Her expression was solemn as she caught the other girl's gaze. "Spike has always been more complex then other vampires I have known. He's been a pain in my ass many times because he could always see past the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter - even when no one else wanted to see the truth. He knew that Willow was in trouble before any of us did, tried to tell us - no one listened. He knows all of us a lot better than we're comfortable with. And he tells the truth." A smiled played around her lips. "That's probably mostly because he's a lousy liar, but still."

"And you love him?"

"I... I don't really know how I feel about him. I care, I have to admit that." Her face got hard again. "But it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that I have to do this. He'll understand." The last part seemed more like a plea that he would than certain knowledge. She came to a halt.

"Buffy?"

She pointed to the entranceway to a dingy looking building. "We're here."




Willy looked up as he heard the door open. "What can I get... oh. Slayer." He smiled nervously. "How can I help you?"

"Where's Spike?"

His gaze darted nervously to the back before returning to her face. "Spike? Uhm, haven't seen him in ages. Couldn't tell you."

Buffy stepped up to the bar and fingered the charred cotton blanket draped over one of the bar stools. "Willy. Where. Is. Spike? Don't make me ask you again."

He sighed. "In the back."

As she turned to make her way across the room, Willie spoke again, this time addressing Kennedy. "Hey, you're new around here." He eyed her speculatively. "I don't suppose you're interested in making a few bucks? I have a cousin who's a photographer..."

Kennedy scowled at him. He gulped. "Or maybe not."

The group of them walked to the back of the bar and stopped in front of the door to the back room. Buffy turned to face them. "Look, you guys. I appreciate that you are here for me and all. But I really need to do this alone."

Xander started to protest, but Giles stilled him with a look. "We'll wait right here. If you need us, just call."

"I'm going in with you," Kennedy disagreed.

Buffy shook her head. "Kennedy, I promise you, if I need help to do this, I will call you. Please let me talk to him alone. I owe him that much."

The other girl looked ready to argue the point, but backed down. "Fine. But don't take too long, or I'm coming in, invited or not."




Buffy stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind her with a solid click. Spike was sitting alone at the poker table, his eyes closed. She noted that he looked tired, the dark shadows of bruises still adorning his face.

"S'bout time," he spoke, eyes still closed. "Startin' to wonder if you were ever gonna..." he trailed off, cracked an eye open. When he saw her, he bolted upright. "Buffy? What are you doin' here, luv?"

"Looking for you."

"Huh. Well, you found me. Listen, pet, I'm waiting to see a bloke. It's important. Would you mind...." He realized she was trying not to cry, and failing. "Buffy?" He got out of the chair and walked over to her. "What's wrong luv?"

She raised her moist eyes to meet his concerned blue ones, and her heart constricted within her. "You heard what Anya said."

He nodded. "I did."

"We talked about it." She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "We... Willow, Xander, Giles even... me. I think - I think Anya was right. So this is all my fault."

"You had to do what you thought was best, Buffy. It's not your fault."

"And now it's too late," she went on as if he hadn't spoken at all. "It doesn't even matter if I love you or not, because the damage is done. You went out and got a soul to prove yourself to me, and now everything is messed up."

Spike was looking at the floor now. "I'm sorry I screwed things up, luv. I want to try and fix it. That's why-"

"It's too *late* to fix it," she whispered. "Giles was right. There is only one way to stabilize the Balance." She pulled the stake out of her jacket pocket and held it out in front of her, staring at it. Light glinted off the highly polished wood. "I don't want to. But I have to."

Spike considered telling her about the soul stealer, but only for a moment. It was probably better this way. Without his soul or the chip, he really wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep from turning evil again. It was so much easier to just let the demon be in control and to stop striving. What he'd done to Buffy the previous spring was a testament to that. And there was certainly no possibility of ever earning Buffy's love the way he was before.

Slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt. Buffy looked up as the movement caught her eye. "Just want to make sure you have a clear target, luv." Tears rolled unchecked down her face as he continued. "Don't cry, pet. Just strike hard and true." He pulled his shirt open, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Do it, Buffy.

She started to weep in earnest, and lifted the stake. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I wish there was some other way. I have no choice!"

"Don't you?"

Buffy whirled around, and her stake clattered to the floor. "Whistler?"

"Well? Time's a wastin'."

She was nonplussed. "What... what do you mean?"

"Choices, Slayer. Do you honestly believe you have no other choice?"

Spike growled at the other demon. "Don't make things any more difficult for her than they already are, mate!"

Whistler clucked his tongue and wagged his finger at the vampire. "You've been a dishonest boy, William. Don't you have anything that you want to tell her?"

Buffy swiveled around to face Spike again. "Tell me what?" Her voice quavered.

Spike slumped forward and hung his head. "S'not important, Buffy. It really is better this way."

"Tell. Me. WHAT?" she ground out.

He sighed. "I was here to meet with the soul stealer." He glanced up at her. "Figured if getting' the soul was what mucked everything up, maybe getting rid of it would make things right again." He snorted in derision. "But I reckon I'll just muck that up, too. Buffy, without a soul - well, Spike's not fixed anymore, you know that. And I remember what Angelus was like when he lost his soul. Demon was half crazed. I'm thinkin' mine might be a little crazed after being trapped in here for the last few months." He dropped his gaze from hers. "Rather have you stake me now, luv. Then you could remember me like this, not as a evil thing trying to kill you."






Kennedy stood up and marched towards the door. "I'm going in there."

Giles arm shot out to bar the way. "Wait."

"It's been 10 minutes already. How long does it take to stake a vampire?"

"If she needs your help, she'll call you."

"What if he fooled her? What if she thought he was okay and let her guard down and he got the drop on her? What if she's lying there dead on the carpet right now?"

Xander looked a little nervous at the idea, but Giles stood firm. "We wait."

"I don't think the Watcher is very concerned with your safety," came a soft, southern accented voice from behind them. They turned to find Eve standing there. 'She' addressed Kennedy directly. "I think the only one he really cares about is his slayer."

The girl's hand tightened convulsively around her stake. Giles noted the movement.

"Kennedy. Don't forget this is the First. It is not interested in anything but seeing you and all the others dead. Anything it has to say is suspect."

"Spike has to die," she reasoned, gaze still locked with 'Eve's'. "We agreed on that. It wouldn't hurt to go and see what's going on." With that, the girl darted past Giles's outstretched arm and pushed the door open. Her mouth turned down into a grimace when she saw Spike standing there. "I *knew* it." She started towards him. Buffy blocked her way.

"You can't do it, can you?" she sneered. "He's your lover and so you're going to sacrifice us all to save him!"

"No, it's not like that," Buffy insisted. "There might be another way."

Giles and Xander followed Kennedy into the room and tried to intercept her, but she evaded them and rushed Buffy, momentum sending them crashing across the room.

'Eve' sauntered in, smirking. "You were right," she continued. "The Slayer doesn't seem to be able to do her job anymore. Looks like someone has to step in and do the job for her."

Xander waded into the fray and earned a kick in the jaw that sent him sprawling. Giles managed to get an arm around Kennedy's waist and pulled her, kicking and screaming, off Buffy.

"Okay, that's enough, Morphy." Whistler intervened. "Leave it alone."

'Eve' glared at him. "You have been aiding the slayer."

"I have not and you know it. I'm allowed to ask questions. I'm not answering any. You, on the other hand, are provoking the girl."

Buffy jumped to her feet and reached out to give Xander a hand up.

Giles spoke over Kennedy's cursing. "Buffy, what did you mean there might be another way?"

Before he could answer, a swirling cloud appeared in the center of the room. It cleared quickly, leaving behind a tall, robed figure. 'Eve' let out a scream of fury. "No! You are a servant of evil!"

Kennedy had ceased her struggles, staring at the new arrival wide eyed. Giles relieved her of her stake, then pushed her into a chair. "Stay. There," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. She nodded. He turned then to address the man in the center of the room. "It's good to see you again, my friend."

The mage acknowledged him with a tilt of his head. "And you, also." He turned to the First. "I serve only the balance. I received a summons here, and the Powers bid me come. And so I have."

Whistler spoke up. "There is the one who sought you out," he informed the mage, indicating Spike. The mage studied the vampire for a moment.

"His soul is not like that of the other. It is anchored. To remove it will require a large blood sacrifice."

"I'm sure Willy's got lots of blood up front," Xander offered. "How much do you need?"

"This cannot be done with the blood of animals. It must be preformed with the fresh blood of a willing person." His gaze traveled to Buffy. "He is connected to you."

She nodded slowly, and started to roll up a sleeve. Spike took a step forward.

"Wait just a soddin' minute! No one said anything about blood." He grabbed Buffy's shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "You don't have to do this. You could just stake me and be done with it." His face wore an agonized look. "You're probably just going to have to stake me afterwards anyway, pet. Don't put yourself through this. If you're weakened, I might end up killing you."

"You know he's right." Buffy gasped at the voice that spoke those words. She pulled free of Spike's grasp and looked over to find her mother standing there. "Honey, haven't you suffered enough? Just accept it. Stake him and it will all be over."

"I have just about *had* it with you," Whistler barked. The First morphed back into the form of Eve and raised an eyebrow at the demon.

Buffy drew a shuddering breath. "Can we please just do this?" she implored the mage.

Giles stepped up to her. "Are you absolutely certain about this, Buffy?" She nodded. He searched her face for any sign of doubt and found none. With a sigh, moved back to stand with Xander behind Kennedy.

The mage stepped forward and drew an ornately decorated blade from beneath his robes with one hand, a silver chalice with the other. Buffy extended her arm, and Xander turned his face away as the mage drew the knife quickly across her upturned wrist. He moved the chalice beneath the catch the blood as it spilled forth. It seemed like only moments before the chalice was full to overflowing.

Buffy staggered, the abrupt blood loss making her woozy. Spike started forward to catch her, but the mage stopped him. "It begins." With that, he splashed the contents all over the vampire, and his eyes began to glow.


***

Her blood was everywhere, some even dripping down his face, splattered on his lips. Spike tried to resist the temptation to lick them clean, but failed entirely. The taste of it was potent wine, and it burned through him like fire. His hands were covered with it, as he had reflexively raised them in an ineffectual attempt to ward off the mage. Without consciously thinking about it, he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking the sweet nectar from them as well. Dimly, he was aware of the mage chanting in the background. Then the pain hit.


***


Buffy clasped her hand over the bloody wound on her wrist and struggled desperately to remain upright. A moment later, there were strong arms wrapped around her, and she glanced back to find Xander there supporting her.

Her gaze wandered back to Spike, licking blood off his fingers. He was in full gameface, and looked completely dazed. Then his features twisted in agony and he convulsed, dropping to the floor.

"This one's hold on his soul is strong." The mage turned back to her with the chalice. "It requires more blood."

She heard Xander protesting, and Giles as well, but the all of her attention was on Spike, writhing on the floor. Silently, she removed her hand from the wound and extended her wrist again. "Whatever it takes," she whispered.

The knife slice into her wrist and she felt the blood begin to flow once more. Her vision grew fuzzy around the edges, but she never took her eyes off Spike. "Just fix it in a way that makes him not have to die."

"You... you really love him, don't you Buffy?"

The question seemed to come from a million miles away. She nodded. "I think I do, Xander."

She heard him sigh. "Oh, Buffy..."



***

She couldn't believe this was happening. They were just sitting there, watching that demon, or whatever it was, take Spike's soul away. As if he wasn't dangerous enough with it! And not just watching, in Buffy's case, but actively helping. She had to do something to stop it. That vampire was going to kill them all.

Kennedy watched for her chance. Buffy was incapacitated, and Xander was preoccupied with her. Giles was watching the proceedings with keen interest, and in contrast, herself not well at all. She glanced around and located her stake. There. On the table. If the watcher would just move over a little bit more...

As if obliging her, Giles took another half step over, trying to get a better view. Of what she didn't know - a demon chanting, a slayer bleeding, and a vampire having a seizure on the floor. What was to see? But she really didn't care. As soon as he was clear, she lunged forward, grabbed the stake and dove across the table in one smooth motion.

Giles reached for her, but was left clutching at empty air. She heard Buffy cry out, but nothing could stop her now. She rolled Spike onto his back, knelt down beside him, and raised her stake high.


***


The mage threw the final chalice of blood just as Kennedy sank to her knees beside Spike. It splattered all over her as well, breaking her concentration. Some of the thick fluid splashed in her eyes, temporarily blinding her.

Xander eased Buffy into a chair and started forward to pull the proto-slayer away from Spike. Just before he reached her, the mage finished his chant and stretched his arms out in front of him. Light poured from his hands to envelope Spike's body, and Kennedy was caught in the nimbus. She screamed as it threw her clear, and she landed in a heap by Xander's feet, unconscious. He slipped his hands under her arms and pulled her back around the table. Giles helped him get her into a seat.

By the time the men looked back over, it was finished. Giles walked over to the Mage. "Did it work?"

The man nodded, watching the vampire. "His soul is gone. He is fully demon once more." He turned to face Giles. "It is certainly a strange twist of events to find you seeking with one that which you sought to avoid with the other."

"I'll say."

"When last we parted, the balance restored was personal in nature. It is a novel experience to be involved in the restoration of the eternal balance between good and evil."

"Thank you, my friend."

The Mage bowed slightly. "Peace with you."

"And with you, also."

As Giles watched, he walked backwards and faded into thin air.

"That was way wiggy," commented Xander. "I think I like it better with the swirling smoke. The whole fade out thing is just creepy."

A whimper from Buffy caught their attention. Giles crouched down beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Ohhhh. Like I just fought a dozen vamps." She tried to sit up. "Did it work? Is he okay?" She peered around, eyes apparently not focusing too well. "Where's the blue robed guy? And Kennedy!" Buffy lurched forward, almost falling out of her seat. "She was gonna stake Spike, I saw, and then there were flashing lights, and I think I passed out. What happened?"

Giles put up a hand to slow the tide of questions. "Kennedy did not stake Spike. The ritual succeeded. He no longer has his soul. "

"And?" she prodded. "Is he all evil now?"

"He's all unconscious now," Xander quipped, directing her attention to the figure still lying on the floor.

Buffy shook her head, struggling to think "And the First? Where did the it go?"

Whistler fielded that one. "Gone - for now."

She sighed and slumped back in the chair. "That doesn't sound as permanent as I was hoping," she complained, then looked at the demon through slitted eyes. "I thought this was supposed to restore balance."

He cocked his head to one side. "It did."

Giles frowned at him. "Then what, might I ask, is the problem exactly?"

Spike chose that moment to groan. "Bloody, buggering fuck!" he cursed as he rolled onto his side. He curled into fetal position facing them, hands going up to cradle his head. He continued to paint the air blue for a few moments, surprising and impressing both Xander and Giles with the scope of his cussing. When he finally quieted, the Watcher spoke.

"So, Spike," he asked without a hint of guile. "How are you feeling?"

"Fuck you, Rupert."

Xander tried not to laugh, coughed to cover it. Spike opened one eye just long enough to cast and evil look his way. "Fuck you too, whelp." The eye closed, and he clenched his teeth.

"Spike?"

At Buffy's voice, Spike's eyes snapped open, regardless of the pain he was feeling. "Yes, luv?" Despite his own condition, he realized immediately that she wasn't doing to well herself. He forced himself to sit up. "Buffy? Are you alright?"

She smiled wanly. "Oh, is this the evil, demon who was going to kill me as soon as he got de-souled?"

He grunted. "It didn't work."

They all gaped at him.

Giles protested. "The Mage said the ritual was a success."

"I don't bloody well care *what* he said, Giles." Spike let out a snort. "I don't feel any different at all." He scowled at the floor. "Still feel it. The weight of all the things I've done. It's still sittin' on me, like an ocean of guilt. I shouldn't feel that without the soul."

Whistler pulled out a chair and sat down in front of him. "That's just your conscience."

"I'm a DEMON! A vampire. Vamps don't *have* a bleedin' conscience."

"Alright, not exactly, no. But you have the imprint of one. It's not something you'll ever be able to forget. Without a soul, it never occurred to you to feel guilt for anything. Why should you have?" Whistler looked at him shrewdly. "But you were already learning to, weren't you? It's why you went seeking the soul in the first place."

Spike grudgingly agreed. "Okay, that makes sense." He grunted again. "So. I'm soul free, am I?" He gingerly rose to his feet, and looked around the room. His gaze settled on Kennedy, and his expression went hard. He took a step towards her, death in his eye. Giles stood up in alarm. "Spike!"

He stopped short, tearing his eyes away from the young woman to look at the Watcher. "Well," he said grimly. "Looks like I am after all. Soul free, I mean. Had a real urge to rip that bint's throat out." He hung his head. "Conscience won't do me a bleedin' bit of good if I get provoked. You know me. Always flying off half-cocked. At least the chip made sure I couldn't hurt anyone."

Buffy looked pensively at Spike for a minute, then turned to Whistler. "You never answered."

He gave her a slow smile. "Attentive girl." He leaned back in the chair and folded his hands across his stomach, legs stretched out in front of him.

She looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?"

She sighed. "What is the problem? Why isn't the First gone for good? Why does it feel like there is still a 'maybe it will be back' hanging over our heads?"

"How about this," he countered. "What just changed?"

She gave him a funny look. "Spike lost his soul."

"What didn't?"

She felt all the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up as she considered the question. Whistler leaned in close to her and spoke in a very soft voice, one that only she could hear. "Yeah. He's back where he was when this first started, kid. He's an unsouled, evil demon - and he loves you. The balance between good and evil may have been restored, but the forces surrounding the slayer line in general, and the two of you specifically are still unstable. And like he said, there is nothing in him serving as a moral compass anymore. The only guide he has is his desire to become the man he thinks you would want him to be - which, believe it or not, was your gift to him. So tell me, Slayer, are you going to choose to love with all of your soul, or pull away from it?"

Buffy's stared at him mutely, the words her spirit guide had spoken a year earlier coming back to haunt her.

The demon abruptly rose to his feet. "Well, my job is done here. The rest is up to you kids." He straightened his hat, then glanced down at Buffy one last time. "Just a word to the wise, kiddo. If you leave this thing unresolved, it's likely to come back and bite you on the ass. Make a choice." There was a flash and a pop and Whistler was gone.

"Man, I *hate* it when they do that!" Xander griped. "Is it too much to ask for them to walk out of a room before they go *poof* and vanish?"

Buffy's gaze was fixed on Spike. He'd settled into a chair against the back wall, head resting against the wall, eyes closed. She considered what Whistler had said, and searched her heart. She knew what she had to do.

She forced herself to her feet. Giles appeared instantly at her side, putting out a hand to support her. "You should rest, Buffy. Let us take you home."

She shook her head, and brushed his arm away. "No, Giles. Take Kennedy and go home. I have to finish this."

He opened his mouth to argue with her, but her pleading look silenced him. He gave her a curt nod. He motioned to Xander to come with him. The two of them roused the proto-slayer and escorted her from the room.

Spike opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "You gonna finish this then?" He finally looked at her. She nodded.

He rose slowly and came over to stand before her. Their eyes locked for a moment, then he abruptly bent down and retrieved Kennedy's stake from the floor and held it out to her.

"Go on, then," he bit out. "Get it over with." There was pain evident in his face, and anger. And an overwhelming sadness that bespoke of a great, unrequited love. "Don't want to give the First any opportunity to make me muck things up again."

She stared down at the stake, then back up at him. "You're just so sure that this is what I'm planning to do."

His nostrils flared. "Well, innit?" he demanded. "He told you to make a choice. I know how you feel about me. Or don't more like. The whole reason I went and got that sodding soul in the first place was to be good enough for you, because I sure couldn't go on the way I was." He laughed bitterly. "And look how well *that* turned out. In my quest to be worthy, I managed to get a whole whack of potential slayers *and* the bloody council of wankers killed! I haven't caused that much carnage as an unsouled, evil demon in years, Buffy! And now I'm right back where I was. I can't live like this." He shoved the stake at her again. "Take the damn thing and do your bloody job!"

She knocked the stake from his hand. "I'm not killing you, Spike."

"News flash, you stupid bint. Already dead. Just need you to finish me off." He retrieved the stake, this time grabbing her hand and wrapping her fingers around it before placing it directly over his heart. "Fucking well DO it already!" he yelled.

She tore her hand free from his and threw the stake as hard as she could across the room. It embedded itself several inches into the wall. Then she screamed back. "You are the most irritating, insufferable, unreasonable person I know! And you're *my* gift! And I'm keeping you!"

He blinked. Tilted his head to one side, expression of disbelief stealing across his face. Blinked once more. "Say that again?"

"You stupid vampire!" She let out a huff of frustration. "How long is it going to take you to get it?" Her expression softened, and her voice grew gentle. " It's taken me a long time to figure this one out. But I get it now, I really do. Anya said we were yin and yang. I didn't want to accept it, but it's true. You balance me out, Spike. You know me better than anyone else. You've always got my back." She placed a hand on his chest. "I know you love me. And... " She looked up into his face and saw dread and hope, fear and joy. "I think I love you, Spike. I'm not very good at love. I don't think I do it well. But I'm willing to try, to take the chance."

His voice was harsh, strained. "You had better be absolutely sure about this, Buffy. I'm not willing to be the guilty secret anymore. I can't do that again, I won't."

She pressed into him, slipping her other hand up to the back of his neck, running her fingers through the silky curls she had missed so much. "I'm sure."

With a groan, he caught her up in his arms, crushing her to him as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was passionate, yet sweet in a way that their kisses had never been before. Buffy realized that the sweetness was because she wanted to be in his arms with no reservations for the very first time ever. Then it intensified and Buffy couldn't think about anything at all.


***

Whistler watched the two of them from the dimension he was presently in and smiled. It was good to see she'd made the right choice. The slayer and her vampire were so wrapped up in each other they would hardly notice and earthquake, but Whistler could feel it - the mystical energies around them were beginning to stabilize. The energies would forever be altered because of the vampire, but they were growing strong again, and the First would never again be able to attack the line of the Chosen through this avenue.

The demon turned away, satisfied, then turned his attention to the Powers. Hmm. Interesting. Seemed like there were portentous events going down in LA. And... Angelus? He shook his head. Souled vampires, always getting into mischief. He hummed a jaunty tune and headed off to see what kind of trouble Angel was involved in this time.


~ fin