Evil walked the night and as Buffy Summers glided through the cemetery she felt it crawl up her spine with icy fingers. Wondering absently if Glory happened to be near, she grabbed her stake from the back pocket of her pink leather pants and peered around a crypt.

"No need to skulk, Slayer. Just little ol'me."

"Spike" she snapped, turning to see the bleached blond vampire leaning indolently against a gravestone, smoking a cigarette with pleasure. "Would you please put out the cancer stick?" she coughed, waving a hand around dramatically.

He scowled, dropping it to the lush grass and stamping out the embers with one booted foot. "Never did thank me for helping you with that alien thing," he reminded her and she laughed.

"Thanks for screaming like a girl," Buffy scoffed. "What are you doing out here?"

"What do you think I'm doing? Looking for a fight, you know, that's what vampires do," he remarked with a toothy grin and pulled another cigarette from his pocket, sliding it behind his ear for later use. "In case you've forgotten…haven't seen you out patrolling much lately Slayer."

"Hospital time," she muttered, brushing a wayward lock of golden hair away from her face. "You know that. Besides, Riley and the gang have been taking care of it for me."

Spike blinked and took a step closer to her. "The Scoobies? Yeah, see 'em out here…but can't recall Captain Cardboard ever making an entrance," he drawled and her hazel eyes widened noticeably.

"Are you sure? Or are you just messing with me?" she questioned, holding up the stake threateningly. His hands went out in protest.

"Honest…Agent Boring didn't show his face at all," he confirmed and Buffy didn't even bother to hide her surprise. Scratching her head distractedly, she tried to think back to the last time she had really talked to Riley and realized it was quite a while ago.

"Well, I'm sure he had a good reason," she offered lamely, scuffing the grass with her foot, watching the patterns it traced in the mud. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't talk about this with Spike…she had to talk to her boyfriend.

Spike regarded her seriously for a moment. "How's your Mum?" he asked and her head snapped up.

"Oh…the surgery's going on right now…I won't know for a couple hours," she answered, and was surprised when he didn't ask her why she wasn't at the hospital. Perhaps he understood her need to kill, to hunt, and release her frustrations. Hadn't he told her, she wanted to dance? That she liked the fight, the parry, and the thrust of the stake. It got rid of the toxins in her blood, the fire under her flesh that couldn't be squelched. Faith had known the strength of that to, the secrets of being a Slayer that she herself hadn't even understood. Faith…that name brought pain. She wouldn't think it anymore.

"Anyway, gotta get going," she informed him, nodding as she whirled to go.

"Alliteration," he noted, and she spun back around.

"What?"

"I was a poet once-" he trailed off and shrugged. "Nothing, on your merry way."

And she was off, the demon that loved her gazing at her back wistfully.

~~~~~~
Opening the door to her house, Buffy stepped inside, wincing at how quiet it was. So very still and cold. Rubbing her arms, she closed a window that had been left open and went upstairs to drop her bag on her bedroom floor.

Crossing the room, she grabbed a little back sweater from her closet and pulled it over a lacy bra, deciding without much thought to wear a pair of cropped back pants with the outfit.

She didn't need make-up, just needed to tie her hair back in a messy knot and apply a touch of lip chap. Giles and Willow had been looking after Dawn at the hospital for a few hours now, and she wanted to get over there and relieve them as soon as she could. But first…her keys…

Wrenching open her bedside table drawer, she accidentally pulled it all out and the contents spilled on the carpet in haphazard piles. "Damnit…" she swore, dropping to her knees to pick everything up.

Always

As the word caught her eye, Buffy gasped softly and picked up the item that had on it written that word. A poetry book. The poetry book Angel had given to her for her eighteenth birthday. A rush of memories hit her, filled her head with yesterday.

Then how come you seemed more exited last year when you got a severed arm in a box?
I'm sorry, its just that there's a chance my calling's a wrong number

Buffy, you couldn't be boring even if you tried

Angel, if I'm not the slayer, who am I? What do I do? Why would you like me?
I saw you before you became the Slayer... I saw you and I loved you

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she forced back the words, the voices drowning her ears with sweet sounds…Buffy felt a tear slip into the corner of her eye and visions again swept over her.

Another tear crept up under her eyelash but Buffy didn't blink. She let it come, felt the trail of fire down her cheek, the salt burning against her flesh. Then she got up, stuffing the book into the back of the drawer. I'll burn it later, she thought with conviction, grabbing the set of keys she had wanted and heading out the door.

~~~~
"So she's in a…coma? What does that mean? For how long? Is she all right?" Dawn stammered frenetically, and Buffy soothed her with a hug, holding her close for a moment.

"She'll be fine, don't worry. We just have to be strong for her right now ok?" she told her sister, stroking her hair with a careful hand. "How do you feel about staying with Xander and Anya tonight?"

Dawn clung to her; "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," the Slayer answered, "I gotta stay here…but Xander says that you can sleep at his place." She paused. "He really wants you to."

Dawn brightened for a quick second, "He does?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied tenderly, glad to see that slight spark in her younger sibling's eyes again. "And I think you should go…get a good sleep. I'll be there in the morning to pick you up, I promise."

Dawn considered for a moment, cocking her head to the side in concentration. "Okay, I'll go, but only if…you'll be ok without me."

Buffy's heart melted and she kissed her forehead, "I will. You go, eat junk. Don't even think about me, ok honey?"

~~ The nights were long at the hospital. Buffy paced up and down the hallways, smelling the smells…medicine, stale food, antiseptic. She waited for any change on her mother, but there was none. The surgery seemed to have gone reasonably well, but she wasn't waking up. Buffy could tell the doctors were worried. Sometimes her lower lip quivered but she stopped it with a firm bite from her teeth. The blood surprised her in the mirror.

~~
She didn't sleep. Paced and paced and occasionally stopped for a coffee, which tasted so horrible she took one sip and threw it out. Giles came in at about three am, to lend her a comforting arm, but soon he himself fell asleep in one of the waiting room chairs. She didn't blame him. She would fall asleep herself if she could afford to.

~~
Buffy picked Dawn up the next morning and after dropping her off at school; went in search of Riley. Usually he would be sleeping at this time in the morning, usually with her…but that had stopped a few weeks ago. Understandably, Buffy reasoned. She was too worried about her mother to think about sex. He wasn't at his apartment, so she checked every place she could think of, the gym, the basketball courts, and then even the bars. However he was nowhere to be found. Frowning, Buffy parked at the main cemetery in Sunnydale. She knew he wouldn't be here but she felt like she had to check at least.

Trekking across the soggy lawn, she stepped over graves, skirted around headstones and reached the first crypt. Grasping the door handle, she pulled it open. What met her eyes as she glanced inside was a sight she would never forget.

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