Spike sat on the ground with his back pressed up against a sarcophagus. He stuck his feet out in front of him and glared up at the Slayer. “I saw them together. The other night. Xander was out walking and Dru came up to him, threw herself into his arms. They kissed and fondled each other until I was just about sick, Dru protecting him if any vampire dared to go near them. I followed him the next night, and then again last night, and each time it was the same. They would meet up, Dru just showing up out of nowhere, and they would kiss and pet and then they’d go off somewhere else, usually to Xander’s house. I’ve seen that look before, Buffy,” Spike said, somewhat sadly, and Buffy felt his pain tug on her heart before she could think better of it. “Dru’s in love with him. She looks at him the way she used to look at me.”

Buffy sat down next to him and put her hand on his knee, and Spike looked up at her in surprise. “You don’t need her, Spike. She’s insane and freaky and she treats you horribly.”

“But that’s why I love her,” Spike said mournfully.

“Are you going to let the rest of the vampire world see what a pathetic mess she’s turned you into?” Buffy asked urgently. “They already think you’re sad enough, being chipped and everything. But you couldn’t help that. You *can* help how you react to her betrayal.”

Spike looked over at Buffy, new respect shining in his eyes. “You know what, Slayer, I think you’re right,” he said thoughtfully. He pulled himself up and, pausing for a second, reached out a hand to help pull Buffy up as well. Reluctantly, she took it, surprised by the tingle that coursed down her spine when Spike’s hand wrapped around hers.

Spike smiled cruelly as a thought crossed his mind. “It doesn’t help your friend, though, Slayer,” he mused. “I ever get the chip out and Xander’s dead where he stands.”

Buffy immediately went on the defensive. She whipped out her stake and pressed the tip right to Spike’s heart. “You hurt Xander and you won’t have to worry about looking like a pathetic mess. You’ll be looking like a big pile of ashes,” she warned with a dark glare.

Spike just smiled in amusement and pushed the stake away from his chest. “If you really wanted to kill me you’d have done it long before now,” he chuckled, walking away. He opened the entrance to the mausoleum and set one foot outside. “Only you can figure out why you haven’t.”

The second half of him disappeared, leaving Buffy alone, her mouth hanging open in shock. She glared at where Spike had been standing just moments before, refusing to think about the truth of his words.

“Really, Willow, *must* you use my home as your battlegrounds?” Giles complained as Willow got off the phone with Xander. “I don’t see why your personal melodramas should impede the necessary research that *should* be our primary focus.”

It was the following day, and after having given everyone a few hours to think about what had happened, Willow had decided they needed to meet and talk things out.

Willow ignored Giles’ whining and set about pushing the couch so that it faced the chair. “Because, Giles,” she began finally, after the seating arrangements were situated to her liking, “we need equal ground. If we talk at Xander’s house, he has control. If we talk at mine, I have control. We need to be someplace where we both feel equal. Plus you have better food.”

Giles rolled his eyes as the doorbell rang. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, taking off his glasses as Willow stalked to the door. “One of these days they’re going to realize that if the world ends while they’re bickering, they’re never going to bicker again.”

Xander stood at the door, Buffy right behind him. Willow ushered them in, started to close the door, and then swung it wide again. Spike bolted inside, his duster over his head, faint trails of smoke emerging from beneath it.

“Boy, you English sure are big on the dramatic entrances,” Xander cracked, drawing a glare from Buffy, Willow, and Spike. Giles, on the other hand, blew his top.

“We *English* are dramatic?” he sputtered angrily. “You Americans define the word! Here we are in the middle of an impending apocalypse and you insist on mucking up our time with petty jealousies and insecurities! Now would you *please* just get on with your soul-searching so that we can move on to more *important* things, such as the fact that the body of Donnalei DiCaffrey is going to rise and set the whole bloody world ablaze while you people pout and carry on about relationships that don’t bloody exist!” Giles exploded, his face cherry red and his eyes blazing.

Willow, Buffy, and Xander’s jaws dropped while they stared at Giles in fear. Spike, on the other hand, just smirked.

“Uh, uh, o-o-ver h-here,” Willow stuttered, guiding Buffy to the couch and Xander to the chair. She herself took a seat, glancing nervously at Giles out of the corner of her eye.

Giles muttered a barely intelligible “Bah,” threw his hands up, and went upstairs.

Spike sat on the arm of the couch, hovering, as Willow noted, over Buffy. He glared at Xander, even more angrily than the two girls. “So, you little poof, you care to explain why you felt it was necessary that you move in on Drusilla?” Spike snarled.

Xander started to open his mouth, but Willow spoke up first. “I just don’t understand, Xander. Why her? I could understand if you still were in love with Buffy, or if Faith were still in town, but I don’t understand how Drusilla could be more important to you than I am.”

Xander’s eyes turned sad. “She’s not more important than you, Wills. No one is.”

“Then why did you reject her for that basket case on a power trip?” Buffy inserted, earning her a reproachful glare from Spike.

Xander shot her an evil look as well. “Don’t talk about her like that. You don’t even know her.” Both Buffy and Willow opened their mouths, but Xander silenced them with another dirty look. “I didn’t reject you, Will. *You* rejected *me*. I wasn’t going to spend my life waiting for you to get over Oz and then decide I was good enough for you.”

Buffy blinked in surprise. Xander was nearly parroting word for word her argument to Willow the night before. “But why Drusilla?” she asked again, trying for a softer tone.

Xander half-smiled. “Why *not* Dru?” he said with a shrug. “Why, though? Honestly, I don’t know. She’s beautiful and special and she doesn’t need me, but she still wants me. No one has ever wanted me when they didn’t need me, before. Except Faith,” he added as an afterthought. He shrugged again. “There’s something there.”

“Yeah, a lot of insane voices,” Willow mumbled. Buffy giggled, but put on a sober face when both Spike and Xander darted irritated glances at her.

“She had a vision,” Xander added slowly. Spike looked at him in curiosity. “She said that she came back for me, because she knew that we were fated. And she also said that her return would bring realization to others about what they needed, who they wanted.”

Willow and Buffy shared a side-long look. Spike’s fingers tightened on the arm of the couch and Willow gazed at him speculatively. Before she could voice any of the thoughts whirling around in her head, Spike directed himself to Xander.

“I’m not going to forgive you, Peaches,” he sneered. “I can’t even promise you I won’t try and take a bite once I have this blasted piece of technology out of my cranium. But I have to believe that what you’re saying is true. I went through too many of Dru’s visions to discount what they mean. If she says that the two of you were fated to be, then it must be true. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, though,” he sulked.

Buffy patted his knee, which didn’t escape Willow’s attention. “There, there, Spike,” she cooed. She darted a grin at Willow. “Maybe Dru saw that in order for you to find out why you came back to Sunnydale, you had to realize that you and she were over. I mean, how can you and Willy the Snitch find that perfect happiness if you’re still hung up on Dru?”

Spike growled and tried to backhand her, but immediately winced in pain and grabbed his head, falling off the arm of the couch and landing on the floor with a thud.

Willow giggled along with Buffy and Xander, then sighed inwardly. She was still upset about Xander and Dru, but she couldn’t do anything about it. If Xander thought he was in love with the beautiful vampire, nothing she said would make a difference. Smiling slightly as she watched Spike try and pick himself up off the floor, she called upstairs.

“Giles! I think we’re ready to do research now!”

Giles emerged from the upstairs room and descended the staircase. “It’s about bloody time,” he muttered.