Title: Sodality
Author: Bonster
Email: angelxanderforever@hotmail.com
Feedback: Yeah, definitely. 
Archive: Let me know, because I like knowing where these boys play.
Pairings: S/X
Rating: R, maybe NC-17 later
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss "God" Whedon. Oh and ME, Kuzui, Fox, etc.
Spoilers: Season 6 and back
Summary: Spike gets his soul, returns to Sunnydale, someone has it in for him, and the Scoobies help.
Warnings: character death, angst
Notes: Helen is a GODDESS!!! She is an amazing beta. Thank you again Helen! Any mistakes are my own.




It was mid-summer when Spike and his newly reclaimed soul had arrived back in Sunnydale. He decided to remain hidden from Buffy and those close to her for the first couple of weeks. He had caused them all, especially her, so much pain. He could not bear to face her….

After receiving his soul, all of his actions of the past one hundred and some years had blindsided him. He had inhabited dark caves, hoping some demon would put an end to his suffering. Since he still had the chip and so remained defenseless, the possibility of being dusted by a human was also more than welcome. It never happened.

One night after hours of screaming and thrashing around in a shallow pool of water, he collapsed and when he awoke it was day and he was outside. In fact, he was back in Sunnydale, and not currently a pile of dust because he was underneath the awning of an empty shop which had a ‘For Sale’ sign on the front window.

Seeing a welcomed death so close, Spike almost took advantage of it. But as he lifted his fingers toward the killer rays, he snatched his hand back.

Feeling dejected and cowardly, he began weeping silently. He sat with his legs underneath him as he mulled over why he could not take the final step. “A chance for salvation,” whispered his subconscious. Spike let forth a sigh. Knowing it was true, he used the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face.

He felt more than saw when the sun’s progress caused it to dip slowly below the horizon of the surrounding buildings. He had only seen a few cars pass by throughout the day, and wondered what part of Sunnydale he was in.

He used to go out in the daylight, but only to and from the Magic Box, nowhere near where he currently found himself. There were no telling marks on any of the buildings, and the street sign was too far away for him to make it out properly.

Tilting his head up slightly, he tried to find familiar scents. He was downwind from what, by the smell, could only be a butcher’s shop nearby. Having not had blood for a few days, his body perked up. There had been rats and other nocturnal creatures in the caves to satiate him the first week and a half, but even those began to stay away from the area he was occupying in the caves.

Luckily the butcher’s shop was beside the building he was in front of, and the awning covered enough so that he could walk to it without incident.

Being Sunday, the shop was closed. Quickly smashing the lock on the door, Spike made his way inside. After taking a look around he quickly consumed what blood he could find and left. The sun had set completely by now, so Spike headed towards the nearest cemetery. When in a town that boasted twelve of them, it would not be a long walk.

Noticing the small sign that read “Serenity Yards”, Spike almost smiled. Serenity was definitely something he was seeking, now that he realized his plans of waiting for death to come were disrupted and all but demolished.

Finding an empty crypt with no windows, he quietly began to settle into his new home.

######

One night two weeks after his arrival, Spike was taking a walk when he ran into ‘them’ all at once; those sweet souls to whom he had caused  such pain.

Buffy, Willow, Xander and Dawn had gone to the Bronze on a Friday night, and were about to go their separate ways, or possibly on patrol, when Buffy’s Slayer sense started tingling.

Noticing her slowing pace and watchful eyes Xander and Willow got out their own stakes while Dawn retrieved her crucifix. Spike tried to stay in the shadows, but Buffy started walking towards him. Mentally steeling himself, he stepped forward.

A collective gasp was heard. Dawn dropped her crucifix, and half-smiled, even as she glanced warily at her sister. Xander, clenching his jaw, tightened his hold on his stake. Willow with a confused frown whispered softly, “Spike?”

Looking into Buffy’s widened eyes, Spike realized he was still not prepared for such a confrontation. He bolted, without turning back.

He ran as fast as he could to the place he had started to call home. Silent tears were stinging his eyes as the wind guided them down his cheeks.

When he was finally inside his new home, his eyes searched around for familiarity. The Sex Pistols album, a cheap thirteen-inch black and white television, and the pillow that had literally landed in his arms the night of his return.

He closed his eyes as he picked up the pillow and sat on the floor. The pillow’s smell was of a simple air freshener variety, but still it comforted him. He had been walking by an apartment complex when the pillow had come hurtling out of the window and he had caught it on reflex. The words embroidered on the pillow were, “Home Sweet Home”. Always one to embrace irony, Spike had clung to the pillow night after night, his thoughts straying often to Buffy and Drusilla.

Where his former Dark Princess was he had no idea. His hope that she was not causing the ruination of too many lives caused him to issue a rueful chuckle. Since regaining his soul he had often thought of his life with Dru with dread, and even fear that she might appear again. Not knowing how she would react to his being souled, Spike wondered what exactly the stars would tell her. Planning on staking her rather than letting the demon run free, he shivered. When the time came, if it came, he feared he would take the coward’s way out and run. Just like he had with Buffy and her friends tonight.

Whimpering, Spike leaned his head against the wall, finally drifting off into an exhausted sleep.

#####

Spike awoke to screeching and grunting coming from outside of the crypt. He hugged his pillow tighter to his chest. Perhaps the demons will continue their probably fatal fight elsewhere if I just sit still, he thought.

A large object slammed against the door of the crypt. Recognizing the shout that followed as Buffy’s voice, Spike’s eyes widened and he jumped up. Throwing open the door, he was overcome by the sight of a very pale and bloody Slayer. Scanning the graveyard for the culprit, he could not make out anything. Buffy’s whimpering turned into a soft gurgling noise, and Spike was horrified to see a trail of blood coming out of her mouth.

Using both arms to pick her up, he carried her inside and gently set her on the makeshift bed in the corner. Her blood was flowing in rivers from her sliced open abdomen. Spike bit his lip to choke back a sob.

“Spike…” she managed to croak out.

“Yes, luv?” He leaned closer to her mouth, because even his keen vampire senses had almost not picked up her whispered tones.

Frowning slightly, she said, “I…forgive you.”

Spike was speechless. That she would ever say those words had never crossed his mind. It was then that he noticed her eyes had become pleading with a pinch of acceptance, even as she turned her head, baring her throat.

“What…?” The action confused him. Surely she knew he would never bite her. Not even when he saw her last, when he had almost, he had…violated her; he had never used his fangs. He had not expected her to trust him, but this, this betrayal struck him deep. He shook his head.

Receiving a glare as she turned towards him again, she mouthed the words, “Do it!”

Spike was horror-struck. He was about to lose yet another woman he loved, and she wanted him to play a direct part of it? He shook his head and tightly closed his eyes.

Hearing her whimper, Spike opened his now tear-filled eyes.  “I can’t!” he sobbed.

She blinked slowly, causing a tear to escape down her cheekbone. Nodding her head, perhaps preparing herself for what was to come, she looked again at Spike. She mouthed, “Tell Dawn, I love -.” She gasped and closed her eyes. When she opened them again they were glazed.  Spike realized she was not seeing anything around her anymore. Her heart was still beating faintly, however, the beats were slowing bit by bit.

Just then he heard shouting. Recognizing Willow’s strained call, he yelled brokenly, “In here!”

Willow, followed closely by Xander, burst into the crypt. Seeing Buffy’s prone form, Willow gasped and kneeled beside her friend. Xander hung back slightly, the shock clear on his face.

Even as Willow started sobbing, Buffy’s heart stopped beating. Spike starting hugging himself and rocking. Her death last year had had something of the impermanent about it, but this was different. He shuddered as he saw Willow’s hand brushing a lock of Buffy’s hair behind her ear. Seeing Willow make such a parting gesture brought forth the sob he had been holding back. He closed his eyes and let the tears go.

He was not aware of how long he sat there; he was alone with his grief - needed to be. When his sobs started quieting down, Spike felt a hand on his shoulder, giving comforting squeezes. Without thinking, Spike placed his hand on the warm one. Thinking it was Willow, he looked up to give her a reassuring smile, but upon seeing Xander’s dazed eyes, he frowned.

When Spike’s confused frown registered, Xander quietly pulled back his hand and went to kneel beside Buffy. “Willow went to get someone who can take care of the body.”

Spike shivered at the flat tone. Perhaps it was from grief, or perhaps Buffy had told Xander about that last night he was in Sunnydale. Such cold and automatic movements could be expected in both cases. Shivering again when he remembered that that final encounter had been the last time he had really spoken to her, the last time their skin connected, the last time he would utterly betray her--

The night had long passed into day before Willow returned. Spike sat on his floor lost in his own ruminations, trying not to impose upon the grieving man in front of him. Xander was leaning forward, looking down at Buffy, and softly whispering his parting words.

When all was settled and Buffy’s body was being carried out, Willow looked back as she was leaving, and said softly, “Come by later.”

Spike gave her a tiny smile, and went about discarding the blankets on which Buffy had lain.

Spike kept himself occupied around the crypt until the sun went down, then made his way to Revello Drive.

He sat on the couch, memories swirling into his vision as he looked around the Summer’s home. The others around him each lost in or clawing through their own grief.

Dawn was suddenly next to him. She slumped over and started shaking, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He started petting her hair, in the only comforting gesture he could come up with.

Hours later, only Spike, Willow, Xander, and Dawn remained. Giles was on his way, but his flight was not due until the next afternoon. Anya had came by for a few minutes, and talked privately with Willow. Buffy and Dawn’s father, Hank, had also come by. He left quickly because he didn’t know how to interact with the group, and seeing Dawn cling to Spike, felt the outsider.

The Scooby Gang had managed to drag Spike into their conversations, and now knew he had a soul. When they heard that it was unconditional, they reacted in different ways. Xander just scowled and scoffed faintly. Dawn squealed, and upon realizing that he was feeling a massive amount of guilt, she told him she was sorry, and kissed his forehead. Willow just gave him a tender, sad smile.

The group talked well into the night, reciting their own personal and cherished Buffy memories. When Willow offered to let Spike stay there for the day, he gently declined, excused himself and left. He needed to be in the silent stillness of his crypt. It would still smell of her, but give him the opportunity to make a private good bye.



Part 2

One month later…

Dawn came often to his crypt, as the Summer’s home still made him uncomfortable, holding too many memories. Spike would teach the teenager card games she had never heard of. In turn she would teach him the newer, often lightning fast versions of the very games he had just shown her. Half the time he spent grumbling about a too impatient generation, the other half complaining about the way she dealt the cards. He would catch on to the games as soon as she told him the rules, but he would let her win most of the time. She knew what he was doing, but did not say anything. After all, she did not often get the opportunity to beat a vampire at cards.

Willow would also often stop by.  She would talk about the short time she spent with Giles after her complete breakdown, and how she had finally started listening to the older man’s advice. Spike had listened with a sympathetic ear as she told him of Tara’s death, and the subsequent apocalypse that followed. He had even joked to her that as much as he had missed Dru and even Buffy, he had never gone so far as to try and end the world.

Spike’s visits with Willow and Dawn were giving him a pleasant routine. Not a one of them had gone patrolling since Buffy’s death, as that night’s events were just too fresh. His nights were spent alternately with Willow and Dawn. Sometimes Xander would join them, but that was rare.

Xander was still in a quandary over Spike’s new soul status. It seemed obvious to him that it meant Spike was meant to fight the good fight. He had trouble reconciling that new fact with Spike’s earlier murderous attempts, often leaving after only half an hour, even with Willow's silent pleads for him to give Spike a chance.

Spike knew the situation confused the young man, as he was now basically a human who had super strength and a very ugly, cheap mask. That mask would however remind the human of every negative thing that had passed between them.

Spike sighed when he realized he was moping about the albeit valid reasons for Xander's distant behavior. Still, he could not help but wish the younger man would start warming to him. Xander was a part of Spike’s family, whether he admitted or not.

When he heard the knock on his door, he was surprised the focus of thoughts was standing there, looking sheepish.

“Hey, Spike.”

“Hello, Xander. May I, uh, help you?”, Spike asked, as he moved away from the door back to his faded blue armchair.

“Well, yeah, you can actually. Willow sent me hear to tell you that she has to, and I quote, “Run the potatoes through the strainer”. That mean anything to you?”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. A worried frown crept over his features. They had worked out code sentences for the various evils that could creep up, especially since no one was patrolling. To ‘run the potatoes through the strainer’ meant he was to gather up the remaining Scoobies and get them to Mrs. Lowerton’s house on Sycamore Street as soon as possible.

“Yeah. Means you are going to have to come with me. We’ll stop by and get Dawn, too.” Spike said, as headed for the door.

“Whoa there, Soul Train. Why are we leaving the depot?” Xander had not budged from the doorframe. Spike could just imagine Xander crossing his arms in a pout at any moment.

Taking a breath to restrain the grin that threatened to make an appearance, Spike replied, “The strainer thing means there’re bad things going on. Demon. Mojo. Whatever. Means were all supposed to head somewhere safe, and not one of our usual haunts.”

Xander looked shocked. Whether it was because Spike was so forthcoming or the fact that something very bad was about to happen, Spike didn’t know. He did know the git was standing in his way.

“Xander! Let’s move!” Spike began to edge around the stunned man. Spike shivered as his arms and torso connected with the wall of heat Xander presented. After he made it past, he thought it odd that being so close to the man had caused such a reaction. Shaking his head, he walked away intending on collecting Dawn and getting to Mrs. Lowerton’s.

Looking over his shoulder to see if Xander was following, he rolled his eyes at the sight of the younger man still standing in the doorway. Well, at least he’s wearing a frown now, Spike thought.

“Xander? For the Hellmouth’s sake! Well, maybe not. Anyway, You! The mortal with ugly pants!” Receiving only a half turn from Xander’s body, Spike resolved to make Dawn play a larger role. “Oi! The Nibblet is probably in grave danger!” Ah, finally!

Xander nodded, and walked toward Spike.

Nearly ready to take that last leap into the land of dust, Spike began jogging, hoping Xander would get the idea that speed was very important.

They arrived at the Summer’s home. Spike quickly told Dawn what he had told Xander, except the part where she was in grave danger, as he very much hoped that was not the case.

Dawn went upstairs and grabbed a bag which she said had her “I’m up for whatever” things in it. She came downstairs with a Hello Kitty backpack, wearing what looked like a fisherman’s hat.

At Spike’s speculative look at the hat, she said, “What? I feel like we’re going on an adventure. I can act like we’re going to traverse deep Sunnydale wilds, right?”

“Yep, you’re still very much a child,” Spike said, with a smile, as he led the others out the door.

“Hey!”, Dawn yelled, grabbing his hand and swinging it as they walked.

On the way to Mrs. Lowerton’s, they met a fledge who had just finished draining a man who had been from a car.

“Oh yeah. Fresh and delivered,” the vampire smirked in game face.

Spike growled and shot forward. He had the fledge’s head off before anyone else had even reacted. Surprised eyes turned into swirling dust as the wind picked up.

“Wow, Spike! Good job! And you didn’t get any weird blood spurts on your clothes,” Dawn said, bouncing over to Spike and taking his arm again.

Spike smiled at her and they continued their walk. Xander had only mumbled something that Spike thought was, “Yeah, yeah. Are we supposed to be surprised?”

Wondering at the young man’s comments, Spike almost missed the duck-shaped mailbox which marked Mrs. Lowerton’s house.

Turning onto the driveway, he and Dawn stopped humming their duet of Britney Spears’ “Oops, I Did it Again” .

“I don’t think I’ve ever met Mrs. Lowerton. Is she nice?” Dawn asked a little timidly.

Spike smiled. “Yes, that she is. She also knows not a few good protection and warding spells. See? Comes in handy to go to the supermarket every now and then.” He and Willow had met Mrs. Lowerton at the Sunnydale Foods N Goods on the night they had decided to plan safe havens and codes.

After she had told them which spaghetti sauce was best when they were having trouble deciding, both Willow and Spike had taken a liking to her. Then they had learned that she had magic powers and had asked her if she would like to help them out.

Having just knocked on the door, Spike was standing outside feeling a little anxious. He had not been invited into a house for a very long time.

When Mrs. Lowerton opened the door and saw Spike’s face, she immediately stepped aside, glancing warily at Dawn and Xander. Dawn spoke as she stepped across the threshold, hand in front of her in greeting. “Hi, Mrs. Lowerton. Nice to meet you!”

Xander was still behind Spike, but he spoke up. “Hello, Mrs. Lowerton. It’s nice of you to take us in. You’ll have to excuse us if Spike doesn’t come in.” With that he brushed past Spike. The contact between their arms became Spike’s focus. It filled him with warm feelings that he, for now, couldn’t identify.

His musings nearly caused him to miss Mrs. Lowerton’s words. “Oh yes, dear. I forgot about the invitation. Spike, you are welcome in my home.”

Smiling, Spike stepped forward. Dawn and Xander had taken places on the couch. He headed toward a large recliner, closest to Dawn’s position.

“Has Willow been in touch, Mrs. Lowerton?” Spike asked, as he sat down.

“Yes, she has. She says to tell you “The pretzels are salty”.

Spike sighed in relief. That was the code for when Willow had handled the situation, and only had clean up to do.

“Good. That means we won’t trouble you for long.”

“All right, then. Would you dears care for some cookies? I have peanut butter and snickerdoodles.”

“Oo. I’ll take a snickerdoodle, ma’am,” Dawn said, brightly.

Spike smiled and shook his head at Mrs. Lowerton’s inquiry, but Xander surprisingly requested two of both kinds. Seeing Spike’s raised eyebrow, he said, “What? I’m hungry and nervous. Cookies are good for the heart and soul.”

Seeing Spike’s amused smile, Xander added, “Well, some souls anyway.”

Spike rolled his eyes, clasped his hands and crossed his ankles. He felt like a child ready to be picked up to go home. Sure he was with his friends, and he liked Mrs. Lowerton, but he liked his new home. It no longer felt new in fact. It was more decorative than his last crypt. Dawn and Willow had both helped pick up strange items that, when put together, made the décor seem very homey. They bought tapestries, lamps, a dresser, a queen size bed, and several rugs. The queen size had been on Spike’s insistence that a king was just too large and would make him feel tiny and insignificant. Of course the girls had reassured him that nothing could ever make him such. Secretly he agreed with them. But not really knowing how to tell them that he just plain wanted a queen sized bed, he had made something up.

Instead of writing poetry, I’m inventing excuses when my friends try to buy me too large a bed, Spike thought. He snorted, receiving questioning looks from both Xander and Dawn.

He smiled, half embarrassed that his internal contemplations had made their way to the surface.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Just then, Mrs. Lowerton came in with a large serving plate full of cookies. “Well, dears, I don’t really have any idea how long you’ll be staying, so I just brought the whole thing. I don’t want to have to be getting back up - going to and fro, when I can just put all of them here.”

Spike smiled, knowing she meant that she was probably tired and they had interrupted her quiet solitude. Also being that she just wanted to sit, acting the hostess would not allow her to just sit and relax.

“So, Spike, what’s with all the weird food references from Willow?” Xander asked, taking a bite into the snickerdoodle.

“Well, it’s grown up talk amongst adults, is what it is,” Spike said, seeing that Dawn was not interested in what he was saying. Knowing she would perk up at the adults reference, he waited.

He watched as she frowned and paused mid bite. A few seconds later, she started speaking, little crumbs falling out of her mouth.

“Hey! Does that mean you’re not going to tell? Because that’s really childish. Besides I think I’ve figured it out. It’s just code. Plus it was a good one, because you looked way less tense. Me and Janice have secret language stuff, too. When one of us spots a cute guy, we say ‘You’re wearing pink socks today’ or tonight, if they’ve already moved past us.”

Laughing, Spike reached for a peanut butter cookie. His hand had grasped and started to pick up the cookie, but not before Xander’s hand collided with his own. Looking at the offending hand, Spike’s blue eyes then trailed up to Xander’s brown eyes. The man frowned back at him and tugged on the cookie.

Spike’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed in determination. He had chosen that cookie out of all of them, and he’d be damned if he was going to let Xander, who had already had (at last count) six, take the one he wanted.

Tugging back on the cookie, Spike said, “Had it first.”

Xander blinked. A small smile appeared, and he said, “Nope. Mine.” He pulled harder on the cookie, causing it to split.

Spike would have lost his balance if it were not for vampire reflexes. Looking forlornly at the one inch square piece he held, he stuck out his bottom lip. “Not fair.”

Xander laughed and merrily went about eating the rest of his own hard won cookie.

Dawn looked between them and shook her head. “You two are both rejects.”

Chuckling, Spike plopped his woefully small bit of cookie into his mouth, and using his vampire speed, grabbed up two more cookies in a blur.

Smiling in triumph, he looked at his prize. His face fell. He held two snickerdoodles and he had wanted the peanut butter.

Xander, seizing the opportunity, grabbed the remaining peanut butter cookies. Giving Spike a “I pity you, but not enough to share” look, he put a whole cookie into his mouth.

Spike was sure that if Xander’s mouth wasn’t full, he’d be sticking his tongue out. Spike could not resist a chortle at his own and Xander’s silliness.

They heard a knock on the door. Xander looked suddenly serious, while Dawn sat up anxiously at the sound.

Spike stood to answer the door, but Mrs. Lowerton stopped him. “Maybe I should get that, hun. It’s my house after all.”

Nodding, Spike still followed her to the door.

He knew the being was human from the heartbeat, but he could not place the smell.

Opening the door to a smiling Willow, Spike was ready to jump forward and hug her. But Mrs. Lowerton held out her hand. She turned to Willow, “Well?”

Willow’s smiled flickered. “Ah, it was just a bunch of ruffians. If you’d like I can explain it to you, Mrs. Lowerton. But not right now. I need to talk to Spike.”

Spike frowned. What would she need to talk to him about if she had already taken care of the problem?

Mrs. Lowerton pursed her lips, but nodded slightly.

Spike turned to Dawn and Xander, who were both now standing. “All clear. Xander, will you take Dawn home?”

“Sure.” Xander ushered a rather confused Dawn out the door. Spike thanked Mrs. Lowerton and made good byes, while Willow waited patiently on the front stoop.

After the door closed, Spike asked Willow what had happened.

“There was a group of vamps. At least one master. I had a spell lined up to blow them to smithereens, so no problem there. I got them all, but luckily not before one of them talked. He was just a fledge and I think he thought it would save his undead existence, but he really should have known better. When I get mad and you’re evil and soulless and convenient, you better watch out!”

Spike smiled indulgently. “Willow, what did the fledge tell you?”

She managed to look a bit sheepish. “Well, that’s where the main portion of the “Willow gets mad” part comes in. They were after you.”



Part 3

Part 3

“Did the fledge say why?” Spike was curious. His chipped condition had been known throughout the demon community for some time, and he thought he had sorted old grudges out. There had been last year and the loan shark, but they had made a deal not long after, when Spike had supplied a certain gill cleaner found only in the remote Arctic.

Willow looked down sheepishly, as they continued walking to Spike’s crypt. “He, uh, didn’t get the chance. I-I, well, he kinda turned to dust as soon as he said, ‘Spii-ike’. Cause I had already pushed the stake in most of the way. Then, you know, he said your name and I got all, you know, ‘How dare you even speak my friends name’. And I pushed the stake in.” Willow was blushing now.

“It’s all right, Willow. They may have been working alone. And it’s not like it’s the Order of Terraka or some other assassin group. They wouldn’t send a bunch of fledges and one master. I’ll just have to think about who else in my entire existence I’ve made angry.” Spike sighed. Thank God I never went to Antarctica, Spike thought. Only got six continents to wonder about.

Snorting, he caught Willow’s smell again. “Willow, luv, what perfume are you wearing?”

She grinned. “It’s part of a potion to disguise a human’s scent. Makes you smell like a Garwot demon. Do I smell like a Garwot?”

Spike wrinkled his nose. “Garwot - yeah. You definitely reek of one. Couldn’t place that smell. Only crossed the path of one once, back during my fledge days, and most of that is a blur, until….” He grimaced. He was going to continue the sentence with “I got that first Slayer,”, but the remembrance now caused disgust rather than pride.

Willow just nodded. They had arrived at his crypt, where they found the door open already.

Spike frowned. Xander had been behind him and probably had not shut the door, due to the young man’s mental freeze. Shrugging, Spike stepped inside, Willow close behind him. He stopped suddenly, when he saw all of his things strewn about.

His TV had a pipe through it, his bed was half on one side of the room and half on the other, the lamps were shattered, but the item that caused him the most grief was his pillow. The stuffing was everywhere and someone had hung the material with the ‘Home Sweet Home’ directly in front of them.

“God, Spike.” Willow walked further inside.

Firmly deciding to be angry rather than sad, Spike issued a long sigh. “Willow, looks like I should be staying elsewhere tonight. Would you mind if I stayed at your house tonight? I want a chance to think things over, and if I have to be fighting off demons all night and possibly all day, I want to get some damn sleep first.”

Willow looked at the dangling fabric that had been Spike’s pillow. She shuddered and turned back to Spike. “Yeah, sure you can. Let’s get out of here.”

Spike grabbed the remaining blood out of his overturned refrigerator and followed Willow out the door, which he firmly shut behind him.

The atmosphere felt very subdued. Willow kept glancing at Spike, a worried frown on her forehead. She was also using her senses to detect any movement. “Demon breaking and entering is just lame,” the words left Willow’s lips of their own accord.

Spike smiled slightly and nodded. He was now sure that whoever was after him was very, very pissed off with him. There goes Australia, Spike thought. Only pissed off a few Rengaltu demons and I dusted all the vamps I came across. Five continents left.

Spike sighed. They were almost at the Summer’s home. Spike followed Willow slowly through the door.

“Um. I don’t know where you can sleep. There aren’t any more bedrooms besides…” Willow looked down.

Spike knew she was talking about Buffy’s room. He knew he wasn’t really ready to sleep in the house, let alone in her room. Everything would smell of her, and the memories of times he had snuck in to collect her very personal items from that very room would overwhelm him.

Willow came back into the living room with a hammer, a blanket and some nails. She smiled as she stood on the couch in front of the window. “Not going to use magic for this. If I get a booboo from the hammer, then I’ll suck it up and run to the freezer and put some ice on it.” With a firm nod, Willow started hammering the blanket over the curtains.

Willow finished without incident and hopped from the couch with a wide smile. “Now, I’ll get the blanket you’ll actually sleep with and p…,” Willow paused. “Pillows too.”

Spike nodded. Willow knew how much his pillow had meant to him. Her concern meant more however, and Spike silently said a private good bye to his late cushion.

After getting settled, Spike was content to mull over the day’s events, but instead he fell straight to sleep.

#####

Out of the corner of his tear-filled eyes, Spike saw an out of breath Xander run into the crypt.

Spike opened his mouth to speak, “I-I -,”

Spike could see Xander gazing from the prone form of Buffy to Spike, who was kneeling and hugging himself.

“What happened?” Xander asked, breathlessly.

“She was hurt. Her heart was slowing. I-I turned h-her. B-because, because I just didn't know what else to do.” Spike sniffed. “I didn't want to lose her. Not again. I just -,”

“Spike,” Xander said, anguish apparent. “You know she wouldn’t want this. You know that.”

"Maybe there's another curse, like Angel’s. We,” Spike wiped his eyes, “just have to keep her bound until we find it.” Spike looked at Xander with a pleading expression.

Xander shook his head sadly. Spike watched as the young man closed his eyes. The flat voice that was heard next sounded nothing like Xander’s more usual joyful and alive tone. “Spike, dust her before she wakes. Or I will.”

Spike sobbed, “I can’t! I -,” Spike hugged himself as he started rocking back and forth. “I can’t, Xander! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

Xander’s jaw clenched. Spike watched in horror as a stake came out of nowhere and plunged into Buffy’s chest, causing an explosion of dust.

Spike let out a wretched wail. He barely noticed that Xander had fallen beside him and now held Spike tightly in his arms, whispering soothing words in his ears.

“Spike, I understand. It’s going to be okay. Shh. It’s all going to be okay.”

Spike looked at the young man holding him so tightly. He felt safe and warm suddenly. “It will be?” Spike asked, timidly.

Xander nodded, running his fingers through Spike’s hair. “Yes. What you did was wrong and wholly disrespectful, but you can’t help it that this time you misplaced your priorities and your caring. I’m glad you didn’t turn her when all of this really happened, or I would have had to stake you, too, for being such an arrogant ass.” Xander kissed the top of Spike’s hair. “I never want to have to stake you, Spike.”

Spike answered by burrowing into Xander’s embrace.

#####

Spike woke abruptly. It was the pre-dawn hour. He only vaguely remembered the dream- the nightmare about Buffy. He had turned her. Xander had shown up and demanded that Spike stake her before she could wake up. Xander had been the one to do so.

The turning and the staking, however, were not the part of the dream Spike was dwelling on. He was baffled by the safety and the peaceful calm he had felt when Xander had been holding him.

Pondering the situation, Spike fell back into sleep. This time, the sleep was dreamless.

#####

Waking up, Spike felt groggy. Frowning, he sat up. It was mid-day and he could hear Willow talking on the phone with someone.

Just then Dawn came bounding down the stairs. Seeing Spike’s eyes were open, she said, “Hey sleepyhead! Look at that hair!” Dawn giggled.

Spike put his hands to his head. He closed his eyes to gather himself together. “Not one word. Hair products? Nearest ones?”

After Dawn had laughingly pointed the way, Spike rushed to calm down his hair. He could feel tufts sticking out, and he just knew there were tangles and frizzes.

He nearly ran into Willow on his way. She just snickered as he growled past.

Less than ten minutes later, Spike and his non-out of control hair made it back to the living room.

Spike could hear Dawn talking very loudly and excitedly about something. Probably relating to Willow what my hair looked like, Spike thought. Wait a minute. Willow already saw it, so what’s Dawn talking about?

Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see Xander sitting on the couch with an amused grin.

Dawn was prancing around the room, still chuckling between words. “And then he said, ‘Not one word. Hair products? Nearest ones?’ I swear I could have DIED from laughing right then.”

Renewed giggles from Dawn as she spotted Spike.

Spike attempted to glare daggers at her, but because he was still waking up, it didn’t work. He gave up and sat in a chair. He then looked at Xander.

Xander’s eyes were bright with laughter. The smile on his lips was going for smug, but actual amusement was there. “Hey there. Good to see you and Paul Mitchell have become reacquainted.”

Spike tried to sneer, however, he managed only a smile and looked down, shaking his head.

Looking back up to Xander, Spike said, “What brings you here, anyway? You can’t have known in advance that the little bit here would be in an exaggerating mood.” Glaring at Dawn properly this time, Spike also raised his head in a gesture that, if it were able to speak, would say, “You are of no consequence, and you are short.”

Dawn snorted. “You so said all that. Don’t be Mr. Snarky with me. I have other dirt on you. And you know it.”

Mentally frowning, Spike remained calm and cool on the exterior. Well, he thought. If she thinks that she does, then she probably does. I wonder what dirt she’s talking about?

Looking to Xander for the answer to his previous question, Spike was struck with the recollection of his dream. Xander had held him and it had felt good, better than good, relaxed and safe.

Swallowing, Spike realized that Xander had responded, but the words had been jumbled in his mind. “What?”

Xander looked annoyed. “I said, Willow called and told me what happened to your crypt. I thought we could try to figure out who’s behind it. You know, get in research mode.”

Spike sat back. He was trying to process Xander being nice and thoughtful, the dream, and what it all meant. Mentally shrugging, Spike decided to attribute the former to Xander having a nice day and the latter to his subconscious being an idiot.

Outwardly Spike nodded. “Well, only got five continents to narrow it down to. Let’s get started!”


TBC...