Disclaimer: All Buffy characters belong to Joss Whedon and Co. I did create a few originals here (Colin, Aldric and Alan - you’ll see) but I release them into the Buffyverse. Fly, be free!

Author’s Note: Flashbacks are denoted by brackets [ ].

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Lydia took a deep breath to keep from panicking. Using a trick she had learned in Watcher training, she closed her eyes and reached her senses outward, psychically feeling the room to better pinpoint this foreign presence. *Standing, by the sofa, seems to be human, but definite traces of magick,* she surmised, preparing to defend herself by any means necessary. She slowly inched her hand forward, feeling for the lamp that rested on the table outside her bedroom door. Sensing movement, she grabbed for the lamp and whirled around as the unknown visitor switched on the light. Lydia gasped as she got her first good look at her surprise guest. The face was the same one she saw in the mirror every morning. The other Lydia smirked and pointed towards the lamp.

“Are you going to hit me with that?” her double asked dryly in a voice that was several shades deeper than her own. Lydia put the lamp down, sagging in relief.

“Aldric. What are you doing here?” With a shake of blonde hair, the image of Lydia dissolved into a lanky, fair-skinned young man wearing faded blue jeans and a dark gray cable knit sweater. The slightly amused expression had not left his face, but behind his wire-rimmed glasses his laughing gray eyes also held a touch of concern.

“What do you think? Looking out for my little sister.” Aldric gestured towards the window of the flat. “They’re having you watched. Look outside.” Lydia moved to the window, and while standing flat against the wall to avoid being seen, peaked through the curtain to the street below. She immediately recognized the dark blue car across the street, and the man sitting in the driver’s seat. From the angle she couldn’t tell if he was watching the building or not.

“How long?” she asked softly.

“Started almost immediately after you left. After your little confrontation with Travers, I think he suspected that you might try to contact Rupert Giles. Fortunately, he made the colossal error of assigning Bixby to keep an eye on you. Obsequious ass!” Aldric snorted. “I’ve been imitating you for two days and he’s never been the wiser. Fool wouldn’t recognize a glamour if I made him look like Marilyn Monroe.” Lydia couldn’t help but smile in agreement. Like the Stokes-Martins, the Bixbys were Watchers of long standing, but Colin Bixby was not the finest contribution to the family business. What he lacked in actual intelligence or ability, however, he had more than compensated for in sycophantic deportment, and he had thus manage to ingratiate himself into Quentin Traver’s inner circle. He was too dense to realize that his prized position was little more than that of flunky.

“Quentin isn’t a fool. If he assigned Bixby, he mustn’t really suspect.”

“That you took off for America to contact William the Bloody because you believe him to be the Dark Knight from the contra-prophecy? Oh, I can assure you that idea would not have occurred to him. Despite your little disagreement, you are still golden in his eyes, sister dear.” Although his tone was gentle, Lydia grimaced. Her stellar standing in the Council, and her brother’s lack of same, were a definite sore point for her. Aldric possessed one of the more brilliant minds of any of the Council and a truly extraordinary talent for magicks. These gifts were offset by his independent nature and utter refusal to play Council politics. Some members of the Council had perceived him as a possible threat to stability, and there was actually a movement at work to have him eliminated until it became clear that he had no ambitions to do anything more than translate obscure texts and spells into English and a dozen other languages. He was promptly relegated to those duties and subsequently forgotten by almost everyone, much to the everlasting shame of their father. His aspirations at that point became squarely attached to Lydia. Her rise through the ranks had been swift and sure, and although she was considered too ‘idealistic’ to ever achieve active Watcher status, her father and Quentin Travers had definite plans for her future. Aware of her discomfort, Aldric dropped the subject and moved into the small kitchen.

“Yes, well, fortunately Bixby won’t be a problem. I dropped a little sleep sand when I got here tonight in anticipation of your return. I’m certain he didn’t see you.” Lydia seated herself at her tiny kitchen table and watched him put the kettle on, once again aware of her extreme tiredness.

“That is a relief. Two Lydias might have made him slightly suspicious.” Aldric raised an eyebrow incredulously and she laughed quietly.

“Leaving aside the fascinating subject of Colin Bixby for a moment, are you ever going to tell me what happened in America? Did you find the vampire?” Aldric had discovered the prophecy, of course. Upon finding the Council singularly disinterested, he had shown it to Lydia. She had taken the case to Travers, with no greater success than her brother, much to both of their disbelief. Undeterred, Lydia had gone to Aldric with her plan to persuade Spike to help save the Slayer, and he had helped her secure all the needed items and spells, as well as offering aid in creating the illusion that the Codex was undisturbed. He had a vested interest in the results of this excursion.

“Yes, I found him, and he agreed to help, just like I said he would.” Lydia’s chin lifted somewhat defiantly. As free-spirited as her brother was, he shared the opinion of most of the council that vampires were incapable of acting selflessly, and had doubted that she would be able to bring Spike around.

“Ah, you used the empathy spell,” he grinned.

“No! Well, yes, but I shouldn’t have. It was unnecessary.” Ignoring her brother’s dubious stare, she continued excitedly. “And it’s working! Two of the Friends – sorry, Followers - have already been saved.”

“And just how would you know that?” Lydia looked at her hands guiltily, as her brother’s lightening quick mind came to its own conclusion. “Oh, Lydia, for God’s sake! You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t do what I’m thinking!”

Spike’s thoughts suddenly returned to the present, slightly disoriented by the unexpected memory. He was still in the loft of the Magic Box. *That was it, wasn’t it? That kiss, she did something.* He could feel something was different. He had recalled the good-byes from yesterday as if through the Watcher’s eyes. And several times he had felt as if she was there with him. He shook his head in exasperation. *Nothing to be done about it now, but when this is all over I am definitely finding that girl. She’ll be sorry she messed with my head.* He looked down at the spell he had found to entice Willow into the loft. Fortunately it required no ingredients, only strength of will, which was something Spike was finding he had in overabundance. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he began gathering his energy while listening to the conversation below for an opportunity. Tara and Xander had arrived at the shop a short time after the shop had opened, and were currently talking to Willow while Anya and Giles dealt with customers. Making certain his Cloak was secure, he leaned forward across the railing to observe them more closely. Willow and Tara both were seated at the table below, with Xander sitting on the table between them.

“Has anyone heard from Buffy yet this morning?” Willow asked. Her mildly worried expression was mirrored by her girlfriend. Xander shook his head.

“Nah, but we were doing the training thing until pretty late last night. Working off the revulsion that is ‘Spike has declared his everlasting love and tried to kill me at the same time.’ Pardon me while I shudder at the thought.” Spike felt his game face rising to the surface and suppressed the urge to growl at the young idiot. *You know nothing about it, you stupid whelp!*

“It was bad?” Tara asked softly. Spike thought the girl was pretty much permanently on mute. Xander shrugged, wincing a bit at the stiffness in his shoulder. He quickly looked at Anya to see if she’d noticed before responding.

“She was pretty seriously wigged, and Anya was pretty seriously ticked. Buffy may be laying a bit low for now.”

At Tara’s puzzled look, Willow interjected, “Buffy was upset about Spike and went a bit medieval on Xander last night, which, come to think of it, is an expression that Anya probably has an interesting appreciation of.” Ignoring the glower from Xander, she leaned in conspiratorially to Tara across his body. “She was worried he might be nonfunctional.” Tara smiled and nodded understanding.

“But she’s going to come to the party tonight, right?” Tara looked back and forth between her two friends seeking their agreement. Both Willow and Xander nodded.

“Absolutely. A bit of party fun is exactly what the doctor ordered to chase away the Spike-wants-me-as-a-sextoy blues.” Unfortunately, Anya had come over in time to catch only Xander’s flippant comment.

“Spike wants you as a sextoy?” she shrieked loudly, catching the alarmed attention of several shop patrons and earning a dirty look from Giles.

“As if,” Spike sniggered softly to himself. Xander rose hastily to quiet his girlfriend.

“Not me, Ahn. Buffy,” he said softly but with urgency, flashing a manic smile at the customers who were amusedly returning to their business. Anya looked relieved.

“Good. I knew that. And even if Spike did want to have sex with you, you wouldn’t, because you love me. And you wouldn’t have sex with a vampire.” Xander put his arms around her and gave her a small squeeze.

“Truer words were never spoken,” he agreed. During this exchange, Willow had whispered something to Tara and was now looking at some of the crystals that had arrived in the morning shipment a few feet away. Tara was still watching Xander and Anya with amusement. “I have a small job to do this afternoon, do you want me to pick you up after work?” To Xander’s confusion, Anya immediately looked at Tara, who looked over her shoulder to locate Willow. Seeing that she was out of earshot, she stood up and moved closer to her friends.

“Actually, Anya was going to m-meet with me after work. To h-help me with something,” she volunteered hesitantly. Xander looked back and forth between the two of them, then addressed Tara, matching her quiet tone.

“I take it this is a secret something? A don’t-tell-Willow something?”

“It’s a s-surprise something. Anya’s going to help me learn some computer things. I’ve always been a bit scared of them, and Willow wants to teach me, but I want to learn some of the basics on my own, so I don’t seem too d-dumb. Anya offered to help.” Xander looked at Anya questioningly, and she nodded.

“I’m good at online things, you know.” Xander smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I think that’s great, Ahn. I’m proud of you.” Anya beamed back at him.

None of them noticed Willow climbing the steps to the loft. No one in the Magic Box did.

************************************

“You bonded yourself. To a vampire.” Lydia could see her brother almost shaking with fury.

“I can explain-”

“Not just any vampire, mind you,” he continued as if she hadn‘t spoken. “A master vampire. One who has killed not one, but two Slayers. William the Bloody! You bonded yourself to bloody William the Bloody!!” At the last, he pounded on the table, rattling the teacups at the exact moment the tea kettle whistled shrilly. Aldric slumped into a seat and placed his head in his hands as Lydia arose to remove the kettle, glad of a reason to move away from him.

“It’s only temporary. Three days. Just until the prophecy is averted.” She looked at him beseechingly as she poured the tea. “It’s the only way I could know what was going on. Could help.” He removed his hands from his face and looked at her, his face still awash with dismay.

“Still, Lydia, what were you thinking? Bonding spells are very tricky things. What goes from mind to mind can’t always be controlled. You could end up in Piccadilly trying to bite some wanker of a tourist in the neck! What would our father have to say about that? Or Quentin? Or Alan?” Lydia flinched, but said nothing. Aldric continued, “And I never taught you such a spell, where did you get it?” Lydia’s cheeks now flushed angrily.

“I have been trained, you know. I do have sources of knowledge other than my big brother’s overly egotistical fat head.” Aldric looked only slightly remorseful. As he opened his mouth to comment again, she cut him off. “And as for the rest, I know what I’m doing. I can control it, and there will be no need for Father, or Quentin, or especially Alan to know anything about it.” Her gaze wandered absently to a framed photograph on a small table near the kitchen, and she walked over and picked it up. It showed a darkly handsome man about her brother’s age, standing in front of the Sydney Opera House. He was smiling broadly, and one could almost ignore the cruel set of his mouth and the coldness of his chocolate brown eyes. Alan Travers. Quentin’s nephew, in Australia keeping an eye on a young girl the Council was certain was to be the next Slayer. Alan Travers, her fiancee. A sudden awareness made her almost drop the picture, and she turned to her brother with an expression of rapture. “It’s happening again. He’s performing the spell.”

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Spike had decided not to waste time with small talk this time. The second Willow was far enough back to not be seen, he used the crystal. Placing the talisman on her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her, shocked at how different it felt from hugging the ex-demon. He could feel power, energy. The witch practically hummed with it. As he had with Anya, he put his head in her hair and smelled. Willow smelled of strawberries, fresh and summery, with a trace of something exotic and floral. He imagined that was the scent of her lover. This time as he began the petition to the Amagandar, he could practically feel Lydia inside his mind.

““I beseech you, Amagandar

Protect this innocent soul

From the curse that belongs to another...”

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Aldric watched with fascinated dread as Lydia recited the incantation, knowing she was no longer even aware of his presence.

“...Remove the affliction

Restore the life line

I beseech you, Amagandar...”

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Spike found himself saying the words with a greater intensity than before.

“...Let not this friend be taken

This plea I make with sincere heart

By my words, let it be true.”

Holding her close, he thought about the time Willow had kept him from ending his sorry unlife. *Please, let me return the favor. She deserves life.* He sighed in relief as he smelled the familiar scent, than as he had before, settled into his Cloak and his corner to wait. He vaguely heard Xander making his good-byes.

“So we’ll meet you guys at the party, then? You’ll bring Buffy with you?” he was asking Tara. Spike smiled to himself as they confirmed the location and time of the event. *Just got a new date to pencil into my social calendar. An opportunity to hex a Scooby or too and see Buffy in her pretty party clothes shouldn’t be missed.*

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Lydia opened her eyes to meet her brother’s frantic gaze. She smiled beatifically.

“It worked. We saved her, Willow Rosenberg.”

“Lydia...”

“Don’t you see? You know how important this is to me, Aldric. Everything will be fine.” Aldric shook his head slowly.

“Lydia, Alan is coming. Here. Tomorrow.”