"They're coming now."

The words fell softly on the ears of the plump calico cat dozing before the fire; he opened one eye, saw his mistress get up and cross to the door.

She opened it before the man on the threshhold had time to knock. "Come in, Rupert."

For an instant he was startled, then he smiled at her warmly. "Bronwen. You're looking well."

Despite her more than eighty years, the compliment was justified; but she shrugged it off impatiently. "I can't say the same for you, dear heart."

She moved aside; and called casually over her shoulder, "Place the girl on the sofa, young man."

The dark-haired boy obeyed her without question, carefully depositing his burden and then settling onto the floor beside her.

Last to enter was a slender redhead, staggering under a load of luggage.

Bronwen noticed that neither of the men moved to help her...all their attention was focused on the blonde on the sofa.

Under their collective gaze she stirred, opened large eyes that stared incuriously at Bronwen, then closed again.

Bronwen caught her breath. No, she wanted to protest, I can't, I'm too old, I CAN'T...

She caught the eye of the man dearer to her than any other; and smiled at him.

"Don't worry, Rupert," she said aloud, reassuring herself as well as him. "We will heal our Slayer. That is a promise."

Bronwen led the way up the stairs. Her own room was on the floor below, but up here under the eaves were two guest bedrooms with a connecting bath.

"You and Buffy will have the one overlooking the sea," Bronwen informed Willow.

The room was a soft shade of French blue, with touches of white and gold. Willow felt a rush of delight as she looked about their quarters.

"Isn't this great, Buffy?" she asked excitedly, then bit her lip as her friend's eyes flicked indifferently over their surroundings. Buffy sat down wearily on the nearest bed.

Bronwen studied the blonde. Once she'd obviously been beautiful; but now...she was far too thin, just delicate bird bones. Her long hair was limp and bedraggled, her skin gray, her eyes lifeless.

Bronwen's lips tightened as she straightened her spine. One day, she vowed, this girl would again be vital and sparkling. Bronwen was willing to bet her life on that.

In the hall Bronwen encountered the dark-haired boy, Xander.

"Are you sure...you'll help her?" he asked desperately.

Bronwen said simply, "Yes."

His shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you...she's been like this so long. It's over a week now..."

For an instant Bronwen was tempted to ask him what had happened; but she checked. It would be far better to talk with Rupert first.

They sat before her fire, each with a glass of her finest scotch; and the peace and silence of the little house settled around them.

"I should have come before," he said abruptly. "Carmel isn't far from Sunnydale, but I..."

"You were doing your duty, staying bside your Slayer," she interrupted him. "No regrets, Rupert. I am always here when you need me, dear heart."

He shook his head in anguish. "I can't help her, Bronwen!"

She leaned forward and patted his arm. "Don't worry, Rupert. I can."

"You have to!" It was a cry of despair; but she did not falter.

"I will," she repeated firmly. "Now...tell me as much as you know."

Giles drew a deep breath. "When she was sixteen, Buffy fell in love with a vampire..."

His black queen smiled. "She'll be back. Spike is sure of it."

"Spike!" Angelus' wrath found a new target. "Mr. Know-it-all...never should have listened to him. He persuaded me that, if we let Buffy go after that first night, she'd return of her own free will, and join us! The fool!"

"She may, yet," his consort consoled him. "And if not, we'll see to it that she returns, willing or not! After all, we have such big plans for Buffy!"

Angelus began to smile. "Yes," he all but purred, "we'll have to arrange a suitable punishment for running away, won't we?"

The thought bloomed like a poisonous flower...the torture, the humiliation he could inflict...better than before.

Angelus, his good humor restored, beamed at his dark lady.

"What wonderful ideas you have....Cordelia."

"Where is she?"

In the back room of the bar, the blond vampire clutched Willy by the throat menacingly.

"I...I don't know, Spike," Willy wheezed. "Honest, I ..."

"Why don't I believe you, Willy?" Spike tightened his grip.

"Hey, Spike, I wouldn't lie! The Watcher took her away....her and those two friends of hers."

"Xander and Willow." Spike's mouth was a tight line. "I want them found."

"Yeah Spike, I know. So does Angel."

"Worry about ME, Willy!" Spike shook the bartender roughly. "Forget Angel. Tell me something I want to hear."

"Maybe..maybe I did hear a whisper..."

"That's more like it, Willy. Now what is this whisper, before I tear your bloody tongue out?"

"It was the same at home," Giles told Bronwen. "She locked herself in her room and stayed in bed for a full week. She didn't tell anyone what had happened...not even Willow. But it had to be a confrontation with Angel. Nothing else could have caused this...trauma."

"Yes," Bronwen said thoughtfully, "I think it's time."

She climbed the stairs slowly, gathering her powers like a miser hoarding gold.

The girl stood by the window, gazing sightlessly out to sea.

"Why don't we go down on the beach?" Bronwen suggested.

"No!" The girl's arms came up; she hugged herself defensively.

"Buffy, look at both sides of the beach. What do you see?" Bronwen asked quietly.

"Um, you mean those big rock piles at each end?"

"Jetties," Bronwen nodded. "They're to close off the beach. I have wards all around this property; powerful wards that no vampire can break. You're safe here."

Buffy was trembling violently. Slowly, with infinite care, Bronwen reached for her hand and led her to the stairs. The girl seemed docile, but jumped nervously when Abernethy rubbed against her legs.

"He likes you," Bronwen said.

The girl almost gave a shadow of a smile; and the trembling stopped. Distracted by the cat, Buffy moved automatically out the door and down onto the sand.

"Are...are you a witch?" she asked Bronwen.

"No," the old woman replied, "But I have a friend who is."

"Then...what are you?" Buffy persisted.

"I am a scryer," Bronwen answered.

"You mean, you can see visions in water?"

"In water, or glass. In my case, I use a special mirror that has been in my family for generations."

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall..." quoted Buffy softly.

Xander watched them from the front window.

"Do you think she'll be able to help Buffy?" he asked Willow.

"Yes, I do," Willow tried to sound confident.

He turned his dark, shadowed eyes on his oldest friend. "If she can't, then...we're all finished. You know that, don't you, Will? Angel and...and Cordelia will hunt us down, one by one."

"That won't happen." Willow had grown pale, but her voice was steady.

Xander groaned aloud. "I hope not."

"What do I have to do?" Buffy asked, fascinated.

Out in the living room Giles, Xander and Willow were playing pinochle, but in Bronwen's room she and Buffy sat quietly, the mirror on a small table in front of them.

"Look into the mirror, and tell me what you see," the scryer instructed the Slayer.

Buffy stared at the tiny blonde girl bouncing happily across campus. "It's me."

"Yes. And where are you going?"

"Um, to patrol...."

Buffy grinned when she reached the small crypt in the older part of the cemetery.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she caroled.

"Bloody hell, Slayer!" the blonde vampire in the leather coat emerged angrily. "Is that any way to call me? Can't you just...knock?"

"I would, but you don't have a door," she retorted. "Why don't you rent a decent apartment?"

"Got to save up first," he muttered. "Anything's better than living with Giles; unless it's living with Xander!"

"Ingrate," she said lightly.

"What do you expect? I'm evil!"

She laughed aloud. "I don't think so." The images faded. Glancing at the girl, Bronwen could see that her eyes were closed while tears streamed down her face.

Silently Bronwen removed the mirror.

The Slayer opened enormous sea-green eyes and stared at her.

"He was right," Buffy whispered. "He was evil."

Angelus lay back in his leather chair and listened to the sounds of one of his unlucky minions getting flogged. He usually enjoyed that; but tonight it failed to soothe his burning anger. He raised his voice to be heard above the screams.

"Cordelia, I'm getting tired of waiting. Any ideas?"

His consort swept in, clad in a pewter velvet dress that glimmered in the firelight. Casually, she tossed aside the whip.

"I'm so looking forward to doing that to Xander," she purred, dark eyes glittering.

At his impatient growl, she said hastily, "Actually, I did remember something. Someone who might know something."

"Who?" Angelus barked.

Cordelia smiled complacently. "Anya. Xander 's little ex-demon girl. They dated for quite a long time, and I don't believe she's gotten over him. She might know where he is."

"Then, find her!" Angelus surged to his feet. "Tear apart this whole town, but find her. "

"Won't be necessary." Spike strode in from the direction of the garden. "She's certain to show up at the Bronze sooner or later."

"It better be sooner!" Angelus glared at him. "And don't think I've forgotten whose fault it is that the Slayer got away in the first place."

Cordelia walked up to Angelus and wrapped both arms around his waist. "Angel, just think what fun it would have been, if she'd come back by herself!"

"Next time she will," Spike promised.

"There won't BE a next time," Angelus vowed. "She'll stay chained to my bed until I choose to release her, if ever! I don't make the same mistake twice."

He strode angrily from the room, and they heard an unfortunate fledgling shriek in agony.

Spike lit a cigarette.

Cordelia eyed him speculatively. "Angel will need to work off some of that temper," she said seductively. "He won't be back until dawn. We should ...take advantage of that?"

He shrugged and turned away. "I've got to go out. There'll be time enough for all that once we've got the Slayer back."

Cordelia laughed. "Did you really think Buffy would come back on her own- after everything that happened?"

She tok a long look at his momentarily unguarded eyes, and laughed again. "You did! That's funny!"

He hunched his shoulder and headed for the door.

Cordelia said maliciously, "Sorry, Spike, looks like you over-estimated your charm."

She shook her head hard, and began rubbing in the ointment. It had a curiously refreshing quality; she picked up the tisane and sipped cautiously. Much to her surprise it was delicious, with a faint tang of oranges.

She was asleep almost immediately; and Willow covered her gently and tried to make no noise as she slipped into her own bed. For days now, the redhaired witch had been torn between Buffy's pain and Xander's despair. Yet she felt a glimmer of hope that one day things would again be well with them all.

Because Xander and Buffy were her life...

Spike floored the accelerator; and the black car went roaring through the night on the way to Carmel.

Willy's voice in his ear, that cringing whine that was so grating: "A beach cottage in Carmel. I swear, Spike, that's all I know!"

It would have to be enough.

Spike had no delusions; he had a day's grace, maybe two, before Angel started looking in earnest.

Spike had to find her first.

Anya sat at the end of the bar, drinking beer and watching the crowd. Once in a while she spotted a tall, dark-haired young man; and each time, she twisted around hopefully, until a closer look proved he wasn't Xander. Anya reminded herself that it would make no difference anyway; Xander had left her, left her even before he had left Sunnydale.

Maybe it was time to move on.

"Can I buy you another beer?" asked the young man sliding onto the stool beside her.

She smiled at him flirtatiously. "Why not?"

"Has to be here," he muttered feverishly. They would not have gone far.

"Where in the bloody hell would Giles take her?"

But he found nothing. Desperately he pulled to one side of the road and stared into the far horizon. There had to be... And then he saw the jogger. He seemed to rise out of the ground, but he came from a direction in which there was simply no road. Unless...

With mounting excitement, he leaned forward and studied the boy. He made up his mind.

"What's up that way?" he called to the jogger.

And there was a road, of sorts, almost covered by overhanging trees.

"There? It's a private area, belongs to that old cottage. Let me think, what's it called? Yeah, Sanctuary."

Spike's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

The boy shrugged. "I know, it's a funny name. Takes all kinds."

With shaking hands, Spike fumbled for a cigarette while the jogger watched in disapproval.

"That it does, mate. That it does."

Buffy was feeling better. She regained her appetite. The water was too cold for swimming but she romped on the beach with Xander and Willw, took walks with Giles, played with Abernethy.

Her Watcher felt encouraged. "You've done wonders, Bronwen."

"We haven't even touched the core of her problem, dear heart," the scryer warned.

"Which is?" Giles frowned.

"That she loves someone," Bronwen explained. "Someone who...did this to her. And she won't be fully healed until she deals with her love. And her hate."

The clue had fallen into her hands that morning.

This time, Buffy stared fearlessly into the mirror, although her lips trembled slightly.

"I'm patrolling again," Buffy related, "but I'm alone. I can't find Spike. I can't find anybody."

"Go on," Bronwen encouraged.

Buffy was feeling a decided sense of pique. This was the first time in weeks that Spike had missed patrolling with her. She felt strangely uneasy, as though she were being watched; but she could see nothing.

She did a quick sweep through the Eternal Rest cemetery but found nothing unusual; still the uneasy feeling grew stronger.

"Wiggy," she shrugged. "Maybe I should hit the Bronze and dance my cares away?"

She turned to leave; and spotted a lean figure with bleached hair,clad in a long black leather coat.

Buffy grinned, and hurried toward him. "Spike! There you are, you lazybones! Why..."

He turned in her direction; and her voice died. Because his eyes...his eyes looked like two burned-out holes in a strained white face, and his mouth was a grim line.

She stopped, frowning. "Spike?"

But he didn't answer; instead she heard a voice she thought she'd never hear again, and the hair rose up on the back of her neck.

"Hello, lover."

She started to turn, then felt a crashing blow as she fell into a dark void.

Spike couldn't get his car past a certain point. It was as if the road dead-ended, yet he could see that it continued around a curve up ahead. He decided to approach from the beach, but when he reached the jetty, he found he could proceed no farther.

He could see the cottage, small and gray-shingled; the light in the window looked somehow welcoming. Spike climbed up to the top of the jetty and gazed hungrily.

And as he did, the door opened and she ran onto the beach, a calico cat scampering at her heels.

Shock held him immobile, almost invisible on the black rocks- and she didn't see him.

Spike watched her in silence for a few minutes. She wore cotton pants, rolled above her knees; and a thick sweater that was probably Xander's. She and the cat played a little game, dancing along the shore- then leaping gracefully aside as the incoming tide threatened to drench her bare feet.

He watched her; and everything inside him was one aching mass of pain.

"Buffy..." he whispered her name, he thought, but somehow, above the surf, she heard him.

"Spike?" she approached the jetty slowly, stopping several feet away as if she feared he'd grab her. She stood hugging herself, and the cat, sensing her distress, meowed loudly.

He found his voice. "Invite me in."

Buffy shook her head.

"Look, I won't...hurt you, I swear. I just need to talk to you."

She said nothing for a moment. Then, "But you did."

He'd known it was coming- the accusation.

"Buffy," he tried again. "I never intended for you to get hurt. Never."

Her green eyes flashed. "Liar! You let it happen! You..."

"Buffy, he...is my sire. My SIRE! Do you know what that means, to a vampire? DO YOU?"

"Oh yes." Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. "It means you could laugh with me, and kiss me; and then hand me over to him. It means you could let him rape me and torture me..." her voice choked with tears and she couldn't speak.

"What could I do?" Spike snarled. "What in bloody hell do you think I could do against Angel and Cordelia together? He warned me, said if I tried to interfere he'd...hand you over to his minions, and then kill you when they were finished!"

Buffy met his eyes. "You could have warned me. Instead, you did nothing."

"Buffy!" his eyes were agonized. "listen to me! If you come back, of your own free will, then he...he'd let us be together, sometimes. He wouldn't...he did what he did to you because he was angry that you wouldn't submit to him, that's all. But if you didn't defy him, he'd get over it and.."

Her scornful expression stopped him. "I'll never submit to him. He'll have to kill me first; and what's more, he knows it. Apparently he knows me better than you do. Tell me, is he blaming you for letting me go? Of course that's it, isn't it? That's the reason you want me to come back!"

Spike clenched his jaw. "No! I thought that you still cared for him. He said...that you loved him and you always would."

She turned away, scooping up the cat. "I never cared for Angelus, Spike. For Angel I did, a long time ago. But never Angelus."

She ran, then... tearing up the expanse of sand in the direction of the cottage; and he was helpless to follow.

"Oh pet, no," he groaned. "You don't understand. I never meant...he swore to me he wouldn't hurt you! He told me..." he stopped, swallowing hard.

He stayed on the jetty until just before sunrise.

"So, now you know," she said softly. "Angel had left me and gone to L.A., where he began working with Cordelia. Then Spike came back to Sunnydale."

"But it is hard to be alone," Bronwen continued, "and soon you began to have feelings for Spike. As Cordelia did for your Angel."

"Yes. And Angel lost his soul again, and turned Cordelia. And then, they returned to Sunnydale to find me."

Bronwen eyed her flushed face and downcast eyes. "He learned of your love for Spike; and he was furious and decided to punish you both. Am I right?" "Yes," Buffy whispered.

But other times Giles still had to wake him; and he'd find himself moaning her name in a sickening mix of terror and desire.

"Xander?" Willow dropped to the sand beside him. "Are you okay?"

"No," he answered honestly. But I know I will be, as long as Buffy is. What about you, Will?"

"Me?" she asked,surprised. "As long as you and Buffy are hurting, then I am too. That's the way I've always felt."

"Do you ever think about Oz?" he asked unexpectedly.

"Sometimes, I do," she admitted, "but not so much, any more. As long as I have you...and Buffy..."

He nodded his acceptance of the words she didn't say.

"Yeah Will, I know. I mean, I did care about Cordelia once. More than I ever felt for Anya. But I..."

Willow put her hand on his shoulder. "You felt that you should love her, but you didn't. And- Cordelia thought that she shouldn't love you, but she did."

His throat tightened, he couldn't speak. But he covered her hand with his and squeezed gently.

Then they sat together in silence.

When the sun went down he paused to feed; but within ten minutes he'd brought the blood up. He crouched in the alley while his stomach rid itself of its hard-won contents...it had been happening with increasing frequency lately.

Oddly enough animal blood seemed easier on his digestion; he wondered dully if he was sickening for something, or if it was only himself he was sick of.

"I can't thank you enough, Bronwen," Giles began.

"Healed, but not restored," she warned. "They must fight these demons; and it will be hard for your Slayer to fight the one she loved."

"Angel," Giles murmured.

"No," Bronwen said softly. "Spike."

Angelus...and one of his minions, he decided. Or perhaps some unlucky twit who'd been carelessly caught out after dark.

Wearily he wondered if he could make it to his room unobserved. Not that he would sleep...he didn't, much; and when he did the nightmares came and made it impossible for him to get any rest. But he had to try.

He entered quietly through the garden, but Cordelia had anticipated him. Tonight she wore a beaded copper dress with a low-cut neckline that emphasized her cleavage.

"Spike, you've missed all the fun," she purred.

Fear lurched through him. "Fun?"

Cordelia smiled. "One of the boys found the former demon tonight. Angel is...dealing with her."

He knew that, by the volume of the screams. But only one thing mattered.

"Did she tell him anything?"

Cordelia tilted her head. "Ooh, Spikey, are you that eager to find your little Slayer? Well, so am I. Because where we find her, we'll find...Xander. And Angel has promised him to me!"

"He's not known for keeping his promises," Spike said, clenching his fists.

She ignored him, closing her eyes in a mockery of bliss. "How I'll enjoy myself with Xander! After I kill Willow, of course."

"What did the demon tell Angel?" Spike snapped, unable to control his anxiety.

Cordelia opened her eyes. "A name," she said precisely. "Bronwen the Scryer."

Abruptly she changed the subject. "Did you know, Spike, that scryers have to be virgins? " She stepped closer to him. "Lucky for me, that isn't true of all visionaries."

The screaming stopped abruptly; a few minutes later Angel walked into the room, tossing a blood-stained hunting knife onto a chair.

"Spike...nice of you to finally join us!"

He strode over to Cordelia and put his big hands on her waist.

"Anya?" Cordelia asked.

Angel shrugged. "I expected a former demon to last longer," he said casually. "But it didn't matter, she didn't know much."

Cordelia put her hands on his shoulders. "Why don't we go to bed?"

"Yes. And Spike will join us," Angel decided.

Spike gritted his teeth...the last thing he needed was a session with his sire and Cordelia.

Angel fixed him with a cold stare. "Well?"

Spike followed them up the stairs.

If only, he thought dully, it could cleanse his mind along with his body.

He let himself remember one night not so long ago, when it seemed like all things were possible. The storm that came on suddenly just when they'd encountered a few Partha demons. And the rain poured down on the fresh-turned earth in the graveyard as they'd fought on, getting wetter and wetter, and muddier and muddier. Until finally it was over, and they faced one another laughing.

Then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her and stroking her streaming hair; and finding out for himself how close a vampire could get to heaven...

Spike shut off the water abruptly; but no matter how vigorously he towelled himself dry, his eyes were still wet.

"No!" Buffy protested. "I still don't know...don't know..."

"What?" Bronwen asked gently.

Buffy's eyes dropped. "If I can kill him."

Bronwen touched her hand. "You must find the answer to that in your own heart."

"He didn't help me," the Slayer said wonderingly. "I thought he...cared about me; but ...he..."

"Do you know of the blood link between sire and childe?" asked Bronwen. "It's very nearly invincible."

Buffy shook her head stubbornly. "Twice he broke that link, for Drusilla's sake!" Her large eyes filled with tears. "He did it for Drusilla...but not for me."

Bronwen said no more, her wise eyes filled with sympathy for the little girl who'd come to her in such pain.

That night, Buffy did not touch the tisane. Instead she waited, waited until the household slept; then crept silently down the stairs and onto the beach. There was a strong wind from the sea; she huddled within Xander's sweater but still felt chilled.

He was there again on the jetty; as she had known he would be.

"Invite me," he urged. "Please."

It wasn't like him to beg, but once again she shok her head, grateful for the wards.

"He knows where you are," Spike warned.

Her stomach clenched; and he saw the expression on her face.

"Pet," he began.

"No," she managed."I won't leave. I ran away once before but never again! Anyway- he'd find me, no matter where I went. You know that."

"Then come back!" Spike pleaded. He hesitated, then added, "He promised that you...that I could have you. He's...he would have...given you to me! Don't you understand?"

"Oh, I understand," Buffy told him grimly. "I understand very well. After he'd finished with me, he'd hand me over to you; that is, until the next time he felt like hurting me. Or you."

"He's my sire!" Spike said despairingly.

Buffy nodded. "He's your Master." She turned to leave him. "But he'll never be mine. If I die, then I die; but I'll do my best to take Angelus with me! As for you," she gave him a look of withering contempt, "You'd better go back to the mansion, before you're missed."

"That's it then?" he asked in disbelief.

She kept walking back up the beach.

"Buffy!" He screamed her name to the night sky; it as the tortured cry of the damned, and it called her back to him.

"If I kill him for you," he said deliberately, "then, will you...come back? To me?"

"No," she said flatly. "It's too late."

She started to run.

"No!" he howled. "Not too late! Not...too late..."

Inside the darkened cottage, a Slayer dropped, sobbing, to her knees.

And outside on the rocks, a vampire did the same.

Two days later, Angelus' minions discovered Sanctuary.

"It will be tonight," Bronwen held out the mirror to Buffy.

"I don't understand," the Slayer said, puzzled. "I don't see anything."

"Don't you?" Bronwen asked. "look again."

"There's just my reflection," Buffy said slowly. "As if it was just...an ordinary mirror."

"But dear heart," Bronwen said in surprise, "what else would it be?"

They came that night. Angelus' minions, laughing and boasting about the end of a Slayer- until they found the wards could not be breached.

Then they howled with rage, until the rising sun forced them away.

On the following night, he came alone. He stood where Spike had been, calling Buffy's name.

Defiantly, she went to meet him.

"Hello, lover," he said calmly. "You've cost me quite a lot of trouble, tracking you down. But I'm feeling generous. Come to me now; and I'll let Giles and Willow go."

"And Xander?"

"No. He's already been promised. To my queen."

"Cordelia," Buffy nodded.

He cocked his head. "Cordelia, for now. But, I might be persuaded to make a change, lover. Think about that."

Buffy was unable to repress a shudder.

Angelus laughed. "Dear little Buffy, you will come back. Sooner or later, willing or not. And the longer you make me wait, the angrier I will be! Better think about that."

The menace in his voice was clear; with a swift gesture he flung a bundle at her feet. Then he was gone, disappearing soundlessly into the night.

Buffy scooped up the bundle; and her face went white as she realized what she held.

It was Spike's leather duster.

And- the lining was streaked with blood.

Buffy waited until the cottage was dark and quiet, then stole silently down the stairs.

There was the slightest click as the front door closed behind her; she held her breath, but heard no movement.

She did not see Abernethy, dozing in his favorite corner by the fire, open one green eye...

She hurried in the direction of the main road. She never heard the sound of someone behind her. There was a sharp blow, and Buffy slid into unconsciousness.

Buffy came to slowly; there was a roughness of plaster behind her, and she felt chilled to the bone. She opened her eyes slowly...and found herself staring into Angelus' gloating face.

"Hello, lover," he smirked.

Buffy tried to lift her hand to her aching head, only to find that they were chained behind her. Her blurred vision cleared; and she saw that she was back in the mansion, naked except for her chains.

Across the room sat Cordelia, smiling at her.

"Hi Buffy," she said cheerfully, "We figured you''d come if you thought Spike was in danger. You were always stupid like that."

Buffy refused to respond. They had her; and she knew she could expect no mercy- why give them the satisfaction of hearing her beg?

Angelus snapped his fingers. "Knew there was something I forgot. Spike!" Still grinning, he left the room.

Buffy decided to ignore Cordelia; but the vampiress wuld have none of it. She got to her feet and strolled towards the Slayer.

"We're going to have fun, Buffy! Well, not you...but the rest of us! As soon as Spike gives up his claim."

"His claim?" Buffy could have bitten her tongue out.

Cordelia studied her. "Why, yes. Didn't you know about that? When Angel brought you here, that other time, Spike got him to promise that Angel would hand you over to Spike once you'd had your punishment. See, Angel went to Spike the first thing when we came back to Sunnydale; and it wasn't easy to teach him who the Master here was! But even so, Spike only went along with Angel's plans after Angel promised he wouldn't hurt you...much. And afterwards, you would belong to Spike."

"He went along," Buffy repeated dully.

"He had to," Cordelia said impatiently. "Angel swore that, if he didn't, you'd be given to the minions to play with!"

Despite herself, Buffy went white. So that was what Spike had meant, when he'd said Angel had promised they'd be together.

Angel strode into the room, followed by two of his creatures, dragging Spike.

Buffy couldn't help but cry out at the sight of him; and Angelus' eyes crinkled with satisfaction.

Spike was as naked as she was herself; but his skin was criss-crossed with welts and cuts, some so deep that his flesh hung in strips.

He raised his head and saw her. "Buffy," he croaked, through his dry, cracked lips.

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Crying, lover?" Angelus mocked. "Well, don't bother. You'll soon have enough to cry about on your own account! This is what happens..." he kicked Spike hard in the ribs..."to a rebellious childe who tries to kill his sire!"

Buffy caught her breath. Spike hadn't been lying when he'd said he would kill Angelus for her...

"Release your claim," Angelus demanded. He kicked Spike again; and the blond vampire grunted, but shook his head.

Angelus' face darkened. Deliberately he began to unbutton his shirt. "You know what comes next, Spike," he said coldly. "Will it be her...or you?"

Spike managed to pick his head up. "Me."

For the next hour, Buffy witnessed the most brutal assault, both physical and sexual, she had ever seen. In the end she was crying and shaking; but Spike never wavered. Every time Angelus would pause, he would say "no" loud and clear. Even after he could no longer speak, he managed to shake his head.

Buffy tried to close her eyes; but she could still hear the screams.

Finally she could bear it no longer. "Stop it, please! I'll do whatever you want, just..stop it!"

Angelus' face lit with triumph. "Hear that, Spike? The little bitch is willing! Now, surrender your claim."

Spike's eyes could hardly focus; but he moved his lips. "No."

Angelus reached for the leather whip; but Cordelia forestalled him. 'You'll kill him; and if he dies without giving up the claim, you can't touch her. Let me try."

She stepped daintily across to a small round table; and carefully pulled on a pair of gloves. Then she picked up a square bottle.

Grinning like a crazed clown, she let a few drops trickle onto Spike's back.

He screamed and screamed as the holy water sizzled his flesh.

Buffy bit her lips until she tasted blood, wishing desperately that the sheer pain would render him unconscious.

But Cordelia knew what she was doing; she paused, waiting. "Well?"

Stubbornly he shook his head.

"I've had enough of this!" Angelus snarled. "Surrender the claim, Spike- or I'll kill you!"

"Go ahead," hissed Spike. "It's the only way."

Angelus took a single step forward.

The long French window shattered.

The small brown missile began to emit a cloud of thick noxious fumes.

"What...." Cordelia stared. "Tear gas? But, vampires don't need to breathe."

One of the minions began to choke. "It's ...garlic!"

Another cannister was lobbed through the window, as chaos erupted.

Angelus spun around and started for Buffy; but as he passed Spike's broken body, the blond vampire shot one hand out and closed it around his sire's ankle. Angelus fell heavily, cursing loudly.

Then Giles was somehow there; he used his wirecutters and Buffy was free.

"Spike!" she cried aloud, rushing to him.

Angelus loomed out of the cloud of fumes. "He's dead, Buffy. Just like you'll be."

He lunged for her, strong hands closing around her throat. She fought him frantically; she must not, would not black out....

Angelus' body exploded, showering Buffy with a cloud of dust.

Behind them stood Giles, holding a stake, staring down at the ashes with an inscrutable expression on his face.

Then he caught his Slayer in his arms. "Are you hurt? We need to get you to safety!"

"No!" she glanced around wildly, unable to see through the thick fumes.

"Spike!" Buffy struggled weakly as Giles dragged her to the window.

"I'll go back," Giles promised. "Wait outside!"

He disappeared into the fog....

Cordelia fled into the garden.

She knew Angel was lost to her; he would stay to confront Buffy. But Queen C had always known when to cut her losses. She'd need a fast car...like Spike's.

"Stop!" Xander blocked her way, aiming his crossbow at her heart.

"You won't use that," Cordelia said softly. "We could...go away together, Xander. I could show you a new life...one that would never have to end."

"I told you to stop," Xander held the weapon rock steady.

"You won't fire." Cordelia stood right in front of him, staring fearlessly into his eyes. "You can't."

Xander gazed hopelessly at her, slowly lowering the bow.

"You're right; I can't do it!"

There was the whirr of an arrow being loosed; and Cordelia looked in disbelief at the bolt in her chest. Then she fell back, disintegrating before she hit the floor.

Xander whipped around to see Willow clutching her own crossbow.

"Don't worry, Xander. I can."

Buffy sat quietly in her own room, keeping watch over the blond vampire now asleep in her bed. She and Giles had brought Spike to the house on Revello Drive; wearily Buffy wondered if they'd ever get the blood cleaned up.

Giles seemed to know her thoughts. "He will heal, Buffy. His injuries are terrible, but in time..."

She held up her hand to stop him. "What happened to Xander and Willow?"

"They went to Xander's basement," Giles told her. "I think...they'll be spending a lot of time together from now on."

"They belong together," Buffy confessed. "I always knew it."

She glanced up at the man who was the only real father she'd ever known. "I owe them, and you, so much!"

"And Abernethy," Giles smiled at her. "He woke Bronwen; or we'd never have got to the mansion on time. As it is..."

"Yes." Buffy said somberly.

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Bad as things are, they could be worse. Remember that."

She managed a weak smile for him. "I know."

But in the dark, watching Spike sleep, Buffy couldn't avoid a shiver when she thought of the future. What would it be like for them, a vampire and a Slayer?

She would most likely not live long enough to reach her thirties.

Well then, their future would be short. But, he'd be fighting his nature the whole time.

Spike stirred, moaning as his tortured muscles protested.

Buffy got up and crossed to him, placing a tiny hand soothingly on his forehead. "It's okay. Shhh."

His blue eyes opened, gazing longingly into hers. "Buffy?"

It was there, in that question...all her hopes and fears, magnified. It had never occurred to her before, that he could be as uncertain and frightened as she was herself.

She pulled back the covers and slipped into bed beside him.

"I'm here, Spike," Buffy whispered.

And burned her bridges.

The End