"Will you be alright, Buffy?" Lydia’s brow wrinkled with concern.

Buffy nodded. "I can take care of this. I’ll be in touch."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You girls are awfully friendly. Been talking about me?"

Buffy ignored his comment. One thing at a time, Buffy. One thing at a time. "Drive safely, Lydia."

Lydia glanced speculatively at William the Bloody and tried to read his expression as she moved past him towards her car. She wished she could be a fly on the wall for this conversation.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Hecate, blessed goddess of the moon, goddess of night, goddess of all things dark. Grant me the power to do my will."

Willow’s pupils dilated as the aromatic fumes from the bubbling saucepan she’d placed on a hot plate wafted through her dorm room. She’d had to improvise. A cauldron wouldn’t really fit with the dorm décor and besides, where would she find a fire to make it double, double, boil and bubble?

"Just the eye of newt." Willow added the final ingredient with a self-satisfied flourish. "There. All done." The potion in the saucepan flashed green.

Willow picked up a 3x5" inch glossy of Tara from the floor. "Wipe clean her memory, make her forget." Willow felt the energy flow through her. She never tired of that feeling--the feeling of absolute control.

Now she just had to wait for Tara to come back to her. Willow smiled contentedly and kissed Miss Kitty’s furry head.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"How’re you doing, Little Bit?" Spike tried to be polite.

"Fine, Spike." Dawn smirked. "Why don’t I let you guys talk and stuff? I’ll be upstairs if you need me, which I doubt you will." Dawn giggled and dashed inside the house.

Buffy cleared her throat. Talk about an awkward moment! Here he was, the vampire she couldn’t kill, the vampire Angel said she loved.

"Where’s Angel?" As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she regretted them. Buffy watched Spike’s mouth twist into sardonic smirk. Great. This was going ever so well.

"He’s gone back to L.A., I guess. Said there was nothing for him here. Said he should never have come back." Spike sighed. "Buffy, do you mind if we do this in the house? I don’t fancy putting on a show for the neighbours."

A smile played around the corners of Buffy’s mouth as she palmed a stake. "What kind of show, Spike?"

Spike didn’t smile back. "This is serious, Buffy. Put the stake away."

Buffy shrugged and slipped the stake into her pocket. "Whatever. You were begging me to kill you about an hour ago."

Spike regarded her relentlessly. For a moment, he didn’t speak. When he finally did, his voice was deeper than usual, almost husky. "We both know you can’t kill me." He licked his lips and took a step towards Buffy. "We both know what you’d rather do."

Wow. Serious Spike. This was something rare. Buffy forced herself to look him in the eyes. Yup. There it was. Hope, big time, gleaming right back at her. What did he want to hear? Yeah, Spike, I’ll forget all those people you killed over the years and might kill in the future if I wasn’t around to be your "soul." Your compact, yet muscular, body is just too much for me! How can I not give in? But that was the problem wasn’t it? She wanted to give in. Boy, did she want to give in.

Buffy kept her face a perfectly impassive mask and gestured towards the door. "OK. Come in, Spike."

Spike walked through the doorway and stood nervously in the living room, fists clenched into tight balls. In a minute he might start pacing. Buffy couldn’t help but smile. Still a Victorian suitor.

"Alright, Spike. What do you want to talk about?"

"You ran away without answering my question."

Buffy continued to smile pleasantly. Totally under control. "Can I get you anything? Hot chocolate with little marshmallows? Blood? I think we still have a packet in the back of the fridge. Hey, how about those spicy buffalo wings? We shouldn’t talk on an empty stomach. I’ll just go to the store and get some." Buffy grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Nope." Spike grabbed her wrist. "You’re not running away again, Buffy." With his fingertips he could feel her pulse racing beneath her thin, soft skin. "Answer my question. Was Angel right?" His eyes searched hers for the answer he wanted. "Do you love me?"

Buffy wrenched her wrist away. Her face flushed. Desperately, she tried to keep her voice level and calm. "Maybe I do, but . . ."

Her words were cut off by Spike. Spike’s lips. Soft, exploring. Her mouth opened with pleasure. Buffy moaned as Spike’s hand slid under the back of her shirt. She tingled in response as his lips brushed against her cheek.

"Buffy."

The sound of her name broke the spell. "Spike." She pushed him away, breathing hard. "Spike, no."

"Bloody hell, woman! What now? You love me. The great poof’s going back to L.A. What’s the problem?"

Buffy straightened her rumpled blouse. "What I feel for you doesn’t matter. I can’t be with someone who might wake up tomorrow and say, ‘hey, I think I want a nice happy meal on legs. Sounds yummy.’"

"So, you still think I’m a killer, Slayer."

"Without the chip . . ."

"Without the chip I have to wake up everyday and make the decision to be good, to not feed."

"And I’ll help you with that. I promised I would. But I can’t be with you. I can’t go through it again. When Angel turned into Angelus . . ."

Spike grasped Buffy by the shoulders, anger contorting his features. "I’m not Angel! When will you realise that? Look, I’m sorry he betrayed you. But I would never do what he did. I mean it when I say you are my soul. I don’t think I’m capable of it anymore--the killing. When I tried to drain that bloke in the alley, all I saw was you. You and Dawn."

Buffy suppressed the urge to flee. She wasn’t good at this--the talking, the sorting things out. What had her Spirit Guide told her? "Risk the pain." Loving Spike could definitely be painful.

"Buffy, just give me a chance. Will you do that?"

Buffy could hear the ticking of her mother’s old clock in the living room. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Then it began to chime. One. Two. Three. Four. 4 am. Way too early in the morning to think about this stuff. Maybe he’d go away, and they could talk about it tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow would be good. Tomorrow was another day.

Buffy drew a shaky breath and steeled her nerves. She was so not good at this. Buffy and relationships were bad. Buffy and relationships with vampires--very, very bad. OK. She had to give him an answer. The next word would be the hardest. Had she ever said it to Spike?

"Yes."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

4 am and still no Tara. Where could she be?

A knot of worry began to form in Willow’s stomach. What if something had gone terribly wrong with the spell? What if Tara was wandering around, bespelled, enchanted, not knowing what was going on?

"I have to find her." Willow blew out the candle on her bedside table and grabbed her purse. She opened the door and suddenly the knot in her stomach released. "Tara!"

Tara’s eyes opened wide and her face blanched white with surprise and fear. "Who are you?! What are you doing in my room?!"

End Part Nineteen