Disclaimer: Oh, you know the drill by now...not mine!

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“Hi, Buffy, fancy running into you here...oh, bloody hell..." Spike held his hands in front of him in a placating gesture, but he could tell the Slayer was having none of it. Anya, on the other hand, was shouting at Xander while hitting him on the arm, seeming not to notice he was staring blankly forward and not reacting.

"I don't believe you! You swore you weren't having sex with Spike!" Anya yelled. Buffy looked startled.

"I'm not! We're not!" Spike hastened to yell.

"Spike, I want to know what's going on! You better start explaining, fast." Buffy advanced menacingly towards the vampire, who started backing away.

"Explain. Right. I can explain everything, why don't we all just sit down and-" He had backed himself into a corner. Buffy cut him off by grabbing his jacket.

"On second thought, I don't care about your explanation," she responded, lifting him by his lapels and preparing to toss him across the room.

"Not the window! Not the window!" Spike shrieked. Buffy exchanged a quick glance with Anya, who shrugged. Buffy nodded curtly.

"Fine!" She threw Spike across the room instead. He landed fifteen feet away on a worn loveseat. The impact caused him to knock it over and he fell over backwards, the small sofa landing on top of him.

"And you!" Anya shrieked at Xander's still-frozen form. "You're awfully quiet, Xander! Guilt must be eating away at you, huh? I can't believe you'd do this to me, you're such a...such a...such a man!" On the last word, Anya hauled off and slapped her boyfriend hard across the face. Unfortunately for Xander, this was the moment he emerged from the trance.

"Hey! What the...Ow?!" Xander put his hand to his face, blinking in pain and confusion. He looked from his girlfriend to Buffy, still staring at the overturned loveseat with her fists clenched, and back to Anya again. "Ahn, honey, if you don't mind my asking, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR???"

"Don't play dumb, Xander!" Anya retorted furiously, clearly on the verge of tears. Xander just looked befuddled.

"I'm not playing!" That response brought a snort from under the loveseat, followed by a groan. Two hands and a blonde head slowly emerged. Xander pointed at him. "Hey, that's Spike. What's Spike doing here?" Anya stomped her foot and gave an angry squeal.

"Apparently, making a love connection," Buffy quipped dryly. Xander misunderstood her meaning.

"Hey, is he bugging you again? Because I've got a pointy stick that's got his name on it." Both Anya and Buffy stared at him in disbelief. Spike began checking for the nearest exit. *Nope, there's no way I'd make it before I'd be William the Dusty.*

"Is that what you call it? Your pet name for it? Pointy stick?" Anya sniffled. "Cause it's not very romantic, the names I came up with are much nicer-"

"Xander, you have no idea what's going on, do you?" Buffy cut the ex-demon off as she saw the growing alarm on her friend's face. Xander shook his head, looking at Buffy with a pleading expression. "A few minutes ago, Anya and I walked in here, and you were in Spike's arms. You looked very...close." Xander stared at her, his face as blank as when he’d been in the trance. His mouth opened, then closed, but no sound came out. Finally he managed to respond.

"Nuh-uh!" Anya folded her arms across her chest and looked annoyed.

"Dear God, Xander, we caught you! Admit it. You're Spike's sex toy!" Spike snickered, attracting Buffy's attention again. She gave him a look that Spike knew from experience meant that she was about to do him grave bodily harm. He had to think fast. Xander, in the meantime, was shaking his head so furiously it was about to come off of his shoulders.

"No, not, not Spike, no, no! Not Spike. Definitely not Spike." A burst of hysterical laughter emerged from his lips. "Okay, I get it, this is a not very funny joke, right, guys? Give Xander a nervous breakdown and we all have a really good laugh. Ha!!"

"I can't believe you'd say that, lover, after all we've meant to each other," Spike purred. Buffy turned away from him to advance on Xander instead. Xander just gaped at Spike.

"Could you be more evil? We are not. . .we never. . .you...bloodsucking fiend! I say we stake him, okay, girls?" Buffy had moved to one side of Xander and Anya still stood on the other. They glowered at him through narrowed eyes as his head swiveled back and forth between the two of them like he was watching a tennis match. "You with me, with the staking of Spike? Show of hands? Buff? Ahn?"

"Can I say something?" Spike called to them, lifting one hand like he was trying to answer a question in school, while the other sneaked into his pocket.

"No! I think you've said enough!" Xander responded, panicked. Buffy gave Spike a long-suffering look and sighed.

"Make it good!" Spike smiled at her almost sweetly.

"It’s good. I just wanted to tell you all...good night, kids!" With that, he lobbed the bag of sleep sand he had been given for emergencies at the three. It hit next to their feet, and for a second they all just looked at it. Then soundlessly and at once they slumped to the ground like puppets with cut strings. A small cloud of glittering sand had drifted over them and dissolved. Spike blinked, impressed. "Well, now that was brilliant!"

Spike knew it was time to make his escape, but he couldn't stop staring at Buffy. She looked so peaceful, so perfect. *Don't be such a fool! You've got to go if you're to make it to L.A. in time to finish this!* Despite his self-recriminations, which sounded to him an awful lot like that Watcher girl, he moved over to where they were sleeping. Crouching down, he tentatively reached out and touched Buffy’s hair, then her cheek. She sighed in her sleep and nuzzled her cheek against his hand, startling him. He slowly withdrew his hand and gazed at her softly, a small wondering smile playing on his lips.

"It's never going to happen for you and me, is it, Buffy? No way to make it work. No way you're ever gonna love me." He started to move away, then changed his mind as a much happier thought occurred to him. "Okay, Slayer," he said in a louder voice. "Seein as how I'm doing all this for you, without gettin any credit for it, I think that you owe me some gas money. Now if I were the Slayer's money, where would I be?" He leered at Buffy, then reached out and put his hands on her, running them over her more interesting curves. An unexpected wave of guilt washed over him and he jerked his hands away, almost falling over.

*What the hell is the matter with you?* he thought to himself angrily. *My God, are you an evil vampire or what?* He reached back, this time just reaching into her pockets. *Hello, what's this then?* He pulled out a twenty dollar bill, which he slipped into his own pocket, and then a slip of paper with a name and phone number scrawled on it. *Ben, huh? Must be that nancy boy the girl's all drooly for.* He paused for a moment, the image of himself tearing the paper into shreds and scattering it like confetti over the sleeping trio warring with his common sense. Finally he decided to return it to her pocket, absently flipping it over first. There was a name and address written on the other side. *Warren Mears...that must be the bloke the robot girl was yammering on about.* He hesitated a moment longer, a new, rather horrible idea forming in his head. He could tell right away that this was a really bad idea. A really, really bad idea. He should just forget about it and get out of town. He gave Buffy one more long look, then slipped the paper into his pocket as he strode purposefully from the room. *Maybe there is a way I can have you Buffy...*

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Lydia gasped. Normally she felt such a sense of happiness and contentment when the spell had been performed, but this time something had gone wrong. Not with the saving of the Harris boy, she knew he would be all right. She had a sense that Spike was in trouble, and then she had a sense that he was up to no good. The latter feeling filled her with a sudden sense of fury, and without thinking she picked up a vase and threw it, enjoying the satisfying sound of it shattering against the wall. An instant later she stared at the broken shards, quaking in horror.

“What’s happening to me? Where is this anger coming from?” she asked aloud, putting her shaking hands over her face. She took a deep shuddering breath, and gave out a little shriek at the sound of her doorbell ringing. Fearing that it might be Alan returning, she approached the door with more than a little trepidation. Looking out the peephole, she saw an woman that she didn’t recognize. She opened the door a crack and peered out.

“May I help you?” The woman was hardly the sort of person that Lydia was used to having show up on her doorstep. She wore a black trench coat open over a tight silver dress that barely covered her and was quite indecent, in Lydia’s opinion. Her hair was died a bright scarlet red that matched her garish lipstick. The look she gave Lydia was defiant, but fear shown clearly from her almost black eyes.

“You Lydia?” she asked gruffly.

“I am. And you are?” The woman shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

“Name’s not important. I’m a friend of your brother’s. I need to talk to ye.” Lydia fixed her with an icy glare.

“I believe I know all my brother’s friends, at least by name. And as you have none, I believe our business is concluded.” Lydia made a move to shut the door again, causing the woman to lean forward desperately.

“No! Awright, it’s Janice.”

“Janice. My brother’s never mentioned you, Janice.” At that Janice’s eyes flashed, her chin raised defiantly.

“Well, he wouldn’t ‘ave now, would ‘e? Not exactly a bring around to tea kinda girl, am I? Look, missy, I’ve news about Aldy that you need, so let’s stop bein’ all nosy and get to it!” At Lydia’s closed expression, she gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Aldy told me if I ever needed ‘elp and ‘e wasn’t about, I should come ‘ere and show this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, elaborately carved dragon. Lydia stared at it, stunned. Her brother did indeed fancy himself something of a white knight, and she knew that he gave trinkets shaped as dragons to those he had put under his protection. White-faced, she opened the door and allowed Janice to pass through. *Not a vampire, at least* she mused, *but still, there’s something not quite...human about her.*

Janice took a seat on the sofa with excessive care, as if making a point that her presence might soil it. Lydia rolled her eyes. *Honestly, Aldric, where do you find these people?*

“You said you had news about Aldric. Do you know where he is?” Janice shook her head, the fear back in her eyes.

“I know where ‘e was. Aldy showed up at me place yesterday lookin to hole up for a bit. Didn’t say why, but I gathered it ‘ad something to do with you. ‘E was right-worried bout you, ducks.” Lydia looked away, her face coloring. “Something wrong with you? You sick?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine, just tell me about my brother.”

“Way ‘e’s talkin, sounded like you was sick. No matter, I tucked ‘im in real nice, then ‘ad to go to work. When I got back me door was wide open. And Aldy was gone.”

“Gone! What happened?” Janice spread her hands helplessly.

“That’s all I know, luv. ‘E was gone, and so was that big book of ‘is. No signs of fightin and all but it didn’t sit right. E’ wouldn’t leave without tellin. I think someone took ‘im.” Lydia hugged herself in dismay. Her brother was obviously in even more trouble, and she had no idea where to begin to look for him. Both she and Janice started when the phone rang. Lydia hurried to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Lydia, is that you?”

“Quentin? I didn’t expect - is something the matter with Alan?”

“No, no, my nephew is quite well, my dear. I called you on a quite different, and I’m afraid rather unpleasant matter.” He paused, and Lydia panicked for a moment.

*Dear God, did someone other than my brother see me kill Colin? I didn’t kill him, I know I didn’t, but if Aldric saw me someone else...* Mercifully Quentin continued, but his words brought a new fear to her heart.

“It’s about Aldric.”

“Oh, no, Quentin, has something happened? Is Aldric hurt?” At those words, Janice leapt to her feet, eyeing Lydia anxiously.

“Aldric is quite alright, but I’m afraid the Council was forced to have your brother retrieved, my dear. He’s been captured and the team is taking him for questioning.” Lydia’s heart hammered against her chest.

“Taking him where, Quentin? Questioning about what?”

“He’s suspected of numerous crimes against the Council, including theft and Colin Bixby’s murder. I’m afraid I cannot tell you where he‘s being taken, I’m very sorry. I just thought that you should know.”

“I’ll be right down.” Lydia’s mouth was set in a firm line, and the anger in her eyes struck fear in Janice’s heart.

“Really, Lydia, there’s no need...”

“I’ll be right down, Quentin.” She slammed down the receiver and addressed Janice. “The Watcher’s Council sent a Retrieval Team after him. They’re taking him somewhere to be questioned for crimes they believe he committed against them. This could take a while, I think you should go home and wait for me there. Give me your address.” She handed Janice a pad and pencil and she scribbled it down.

“What are you gonna do?” Janice asked as she handed it back.

“I’m just going to have to convince them they’re wrong.” Something about her tone when she said it made Janice shiver. Or maybe it was Lydia’s chilling smile.

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“I’m not making any more girls.” The fear and uncertainty with which Warren uttered this disclaimer made Spike want to laugh out loud. He already knew he’d won.

“Sure you are. And here’s your specs.” Warren caught the box reflexively as Spike dropped it. Inside was everything Spike had collected about the one girl in the world he had to have, no matter what. “You’re gonna make her real good for me.” Warren stared at the contents of the box, then back at him.

“That’s Buffy Summers.”

“That’s right. You’re gonna make me a very nice Buffy Summers of my very own. I want her just like the original model...but with a few minor modifications. It’s all there, everything you need.” He poked at the box menacingly, backing Warren up a step.

“This’ll take a little time.”

“That’s all right, mate. I’m out of town for the next few days. I’ll check on your progress when we get back. Just don’t take too long.”

“N-no, not too long. Just a couple of weeks, maybe...” Spike saw the look of relief on Warren’s face when he mentioned leaving town, and figured he’d better reinforce the ‘danger’ that the boy was in.

“Like I said, I’ll check in a few days. Make sure you don’t need anything more from me. And Warren, if for some reason you’re not around when I come to call, you do know I’ll find you, wherever you go? And when I do, you do know how unhappy I’ll be? An unhappy Spike means a very, very unhappy Warren.” Warren gulped and nodded.

“I’ll be here. Don’t worry.” Spike grinned coldly and sauntered away.

“Right then, I’ll see myself out. Give your mum my regards.” Spike reached the car and got behind the wheel, grinning wildly. He cranked up the stereo and let the tires squeal loudly as he took off. “Alright, sire, I’m coming for you now. Ready or not, it‘s showtime!”

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Briggs, Saunders and Chilson were the best Retrieval Unit the Watcher’s Council had in their employ. They were cold, hard men who were sadistic enough to enjoy their work, but sensible enough to never let it get out of hand. Saunders was driving the black van as it moved into the countryside, Chilson as always riding shotgun at his side. Briggs was in the back with their new guest.

“Are you sure he’s okay? He’s been out a long time,” Briggs called up to the front of the van. He was starting to worry that perhaps Aldric Stokes-Martin was not going to survive this particular journey. While he couldn’t care less if the man lived or died, it would be quite a spot of embarrassment for the team.

“He’s fine. Saunders put a bit of a spell on him after we nabbed him. If he wakes up here, we might not be able to hold him. According to the file, he’s the strongest mage in the Council,” Chilson answered. Briggs merely grunted in response. The men in the front suddenly leaned forward to get a better look at something in the road in front of them.

“Bloody hell!” The exclamation was all that Saunders had time for before the van ran into a magical containment field. All three men were held paralyzed as unseen forces opened the back of the van. Aldric’s unconscious body floated outside and vanished.

“How the hell did he do that?” Briggs asked in wonder.

“He didn’t. I did. But you don’t need to worry about him anymore.” All three men recognized the voice, but before they could cry out, the van burst into flames, incinerating them instantly. The shadowy speaker watched the billowing smoke for a moment, then faded away as if he’d never been there.